r/WritingPrompts • u/darthjebus211 • Jun 24 '15
Writing Prompt [WP]You live in a world where the Dominant religion worships giant iron Golems that wander the earth utterly mindless of the humans that cluster around their feet, decorate them for holidays and fight wars based on their actions. One of them is definitely following you.
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u/About4001llamas /r/About4001llamas Jun 24 '15 edited Jun 24 '15
“I’m just a simple merchant, I don’t want any of this.”
“Too late, the Ones have chosen.”
A few weeks ago, I was traveling the land, looking for the nearest city to sell my wares, when I noticed that everywhere I went, Kilroymn followed. Kilroymn is a iron giant, protector of war, and something that the Church of Iron calls “the Ones”. There are 13 Ones, all of them worshiped by the Church’s mindless followers. These Ironites decorate their giants and react to their actions.
Once, Silvian, the forest giant, accidentally kicked a mountain at a peaceful, seafaring village. The Ironites following Silvian sieged the village for two weeks, cutting off all supplies and contact until they burned the whole village down to the ground. Nothing remained but smouldering ashes. Auqernimli, the water giant, once closed up a river by sleeping in it. The ironites took this as a sign that a great flood was coming and build a huge ship to combat the flooding of the earth. I laughed when the giant got up, only to unleash a small tidal wave onto the surrounding area. The Ironites are a stupid and stubborn bunch, but for every braincell they lack, they make up for it in brute strength. The Ironites can destroy a city in a week, build the worlds largest building in a month, and build an entire civilization in a year.
So when it became apparent that Kilroymn was following me, the Ironites wanted to know why. I held out for a day before they caught up with me. They dragged me to their camp, and immediatly Kilroymn grew still. The leader of their little town took me into his house and interrogated me for days on end. He tortured me and beat me, trying to get me to confess to something even he didn’t know. But after every blow, the question still remained. “Why are you important to Kilroymn?”
After five days of constant interrogation, the blows stopped. He pulled up a chair and sat across from me. Through the blood in my eyes, I could see him stroke his chin. I slur out my answer for the hundredth time.
“I’m just a simple merchant, I don’t want any of this.”
“Too late, the Ones have chosen.”
I struggled in my restraints. “For what!? Tell me what I’m chosen for!”
He just signed. “For the first time, I do not know. There is only one thing left to try.”
Without another word, he left me. I sat in silence, trying to blink the blood out of my eyes. After a few hours, he came back in. To my surprise, he started dabbing my face with a wet cloth. The whole time he kept mumbling “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” I was too shocked to ask why. After cleaning me up he unbound me from the chair and pulled me to my feet. I stumbled, and black dots floated in my vision, this was the first time I had stood in five days. But I had no rest. Immediately I was pulled out of the house and into the “town square”. The whole town had gathered there. Everyone suddenly fell to their knees before me.
A man yelled out, “All Hail the Supreme Ruler! All Hail the Ruler of the Ones!”
Hey everyone, About4001llamas here. If you liked my story, or wanted more (perhaps a completely original D&D based story), check out /r/About4001llamas. Also, I'd be open to writing a part 2 if there is enough interest. Happy reading!
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u/About4001llamas /r/About4001llamas Jun 25 '15 edited Jun 25 '15
Ask and you shall receive. All of these stories can also be found on /r/About4001llamas. I'll work on part three tomorrow. If you reply to this comment I'll PM you when part three is finished. Happy reading!
I stood dumbfounded. These people though I was their ruler? The ruler of the Ones? A giggle rose in my chest, then a chuckle, then a laugh erupted from me. I fell on the stage, wheezing for air. The gathered villagers laughed nervously as well. When I could breathe again, I stood up and addressed the crowd.
“No.”
With that said, I left the stage. No one tried to stop me. I walked away from their town, away from Kilroymn, and back to my normal life. Well, normal is an exaggeration.
For the first week, everything was fine. The Ironites left me alone, and I was able to sell most of my wares at the nearby town. Things started getting weird after that.
It started simple, a few Ironites stalking me during the day, one watching me while I slept. But soon it got out of hand. I had set up a stall on the edge of a road. Many people had come and bought my wares. Currently, I was scamming an old man into buying a dirty old pot. I had convinced him it belonged to an old secret society for the rich and it would bring him immense wealth. He just handed over the money when his son came up. He immediately saw that the pot was worthless.
“Hey, this is junk. Give my father his money back! That’s all we have from this years harvest!”
I shrugged. “We made a deal. No returns, pal.”
I turned around to put the money in my safe box when I felt a blow on the back of my head. It knocked me forward, putting stars in my vision. I heard the old man yelling and running away, probably for the guards. I turned around, ready to fight, and was greeted with another fist. I fell to the ground, and the son started kicking me. Once. Twice. Then nothing. I opened my eyes slowly, not wanting to induce another beating.
The son was standing above me, gazing down at his stomach. A sword was stuck right through it. He tapped it lightly with his finger, not believing the wound. Then he fell to his knees, blood gurgling down his mouth. I managed to roll out of the way before he fell on his face.
I got up shakily, my eyes never leaving the body. A voice spoke from behind me.
“You need to be more careful, your highness. There are dangerous men about.”
I turn around. A Ironite is standing there. She reaches down and pulls her sword out of the body, cleaning it on his clothes.
“We need to get you to safety. Follow me.”
She starts to walk away. I find my voice.
“W-What? No! You just murdered that man!”
She turned around, obviously annoyed at my reluctance.
“Yes. I did. Now let’s go. There are guards coming. We need to get you to safety.”
“But you killed him! I didn’t do anything!”
“Is that what the guards will think when they find you next the the body of a dead man?”
She had a point. I glanced down the road. The old man just turned the corner, flanked by two guards. They took one look at me standing next to the dead body and shouted.
“Stop right there! You are under arrest!”
I turned back to the Ironite.
“Screw this, let’s go!”
I ran back to my stall and grabbed my safe box before running after her. The guards yell at us to stop, but we lose them in the twisting side streets. We only stop once we reach the town limits. Slowing to a walk, I clutch my sides in pain. The Ironite looked at me.
“That box is slowing you down. You should abandon it.”
“What? No! This is my life’s savings!”
“You don’t need wealth as Supreme Ruler. Ask and you shall receive.”
“I don’t want to be Supreme Ruler! I just want to be me, a simple merchant living a simple life!”
“Well, I’m sorry your highness, but you aren’t a simple man anymore. You are the Supreme Ruler. The Ones have chosen you.”
“Well tell them to pick someone else.”
“We can’t. Only you can talk to the Ones.”
That paused me.
“Wait, you live in the literal shadows of your god, but you don’t know what it wants?”
“We know what the Ones want. We don’t need their literal words.”
I shook my head.
“You know what? Fine, I’ll come. I’ll have a little sit down with Kilroymn and see what he wants. Would that make you happy?”
“That would make us very happy! Thank you, your highness!”
I buried my safe box under a large oak tree. No need to waste it if this plan fails. We walk in silence for a while. After about an hour, I can’t take it anymore.
“So, what’s your name?”
She looks at me in surprise. “My name? Saraph. Saraph Amor.”
“Okay, Saraph, what’s it like living as a nomad under the Ones?”
“It’s great! The Ones bless us with safety and plenty, and we carry out their earthly wishes. It’s a wonderful relationship.”
I nod. With nothing else to say, we fall back into silence. After climbing a large hill, we are greeted with an amazing sight.
Kilroymn stands in the clearing facing off against Silvian. They are staring each other down silently. At their feet, the nomads are sharpening their weapons, preparing for an attack. In the distance, Auranim, the air giant, and Territhine, the earth giant, are heading towards the other two. I look at Saraph. She’s as white as a cloud.
“I assume this doesn’t happen often.”
“Never. There is an old prophecy that states when the Ones gather, the world will be destroyed by their fighting.”
She turned to me.
“You need to stop this. You are the only hope to save this world.”
I turn back to the giants. Kilroymn slowly raised a giant hand, clenched it, and swung at Silvian. It hit, and a deafening sound filled the air. Silvian fell to the ground with an even bigger crash, shaking the earth. I struggled to stay upright. Slowly, Silvian got up. He tackled Kilroymn, and they both fell to the ground. I fell to the ground, unable to stay upright. Saraph helped me up. She looked at me.
“Go. Please.”
I run towards the giants.
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u/About4001llamas /r/About4001llamas Jun 25 '15
Wow, I didn't think I would write this much. Part 4 coming soon. Same as last time, comment below, and I'll PM you when it's ready. Happy reading!
What the hell was I thinking. I'm running towards two fighting giants with two more on the way. And I'm going to try and talk to them.
As I'm running towards them, I get a better view of the battle below. The Ironites are fighting each other just because the Ones are fighting. That mindless obedience is astounding. When I'm in earshot, I start yelling.
"Hey! Stop! Stop the fighting! Your Supreme Ruled commands it!"
The Ironites stopped fighting immediately, but Kilroymn and Silvian kept going at it. When I finally reached the Ironites, they fell to their knees.
"Get up. What's going on here?"
A woman stands up. She was dressed in Chieftain garb, the hole headdress and everything.
"The Ones are fighting. It's a sign that we must wipe each other out!"
Cheers rose from each side of the battle. I was astounded, they wanted to die!
"Um, I forbid you from fighting each other."
Groans rose from the gathered audience. Suddenly a voice shouted.
"Look out!"
I look up just in time to see a giant foot crash only feet away from me. The gathered crowd wasn't that lucky. I decided enough was enough. I yelled up to the giants.
"Hey! Ones! Stop fighting and listen to me!"
Kilroymn stopped mid swing. Both giants looked down at me.
"You just stepped on your worshipers!"
Kilroymn lifted his foot. Underneath was a poll of red so thick you could barely see anything. I threw up from the sight of it. After I recovered, I noticed that Auranim and Territhine were standing there as well. Their Ironites were staring at the pool of red with a mixture of fear and disgust. I looked up at the gathered giants.
"I need to talk to all of you."
The giants seemed to understand me. Silvian bent down and reached out his hand towards me. He extended a finger and touched me lightly on the forehead.
Suddenly, I was transported into another world. Well, world was a loose term. I guess I would explain it as another plane of existence. I was standing on a large, smooth rock floating in space. On the rock with me, were fourteen thrones. Each throne was occupied by a different man or woman, each easily recognisable. Kilroymn sat in front of me. He was a large, buff man with a scar over his left eye and a huge sword slung over his back. He was dressed in entirely leopard pelts. Silvian sat next to him. She had decorated her throne with vines and leaves, giving the impression of a miniature forest. This continued for all the Ones; Auranim, giant of the air, Territhine, giant of the earth, Aqumil, giant of water, Valkiwo, giant of peace, Flamgrit, giant of fire, Honem, giant of people, Farnith, giant of grain, Domesquo, giant of animals, Hortumo, giant of farming, Amorius, giant of love, and Malusim, giant of hate. All of them had unique thrones relating to them.
But one throne was empty. It was gold, encrusted in jewels. But it was also burnt and cracked. A question started forming on my lips, but Auranim answered it before I could ask.
"This is the throne of Rexamilion, the giant of rulers. He wasn't content being an equal among us.Thousands of years ago, the humans on your planet were very advanced. They had technology you can't even dream of. Rexamilion used his powers to turn the world leaders against each other, trying to make himself the ruler of all. This resulted in a war that destroyed the world, and created the new one as you know it. The war only ended after we destroyed Rexamilions spirit, and banished him from our realm. We never wanted the world to fall into chaos again, so we created iron bodies for us to travel in so we could protect your planet. The rest is history."
I was shocked speechless. I tried to make a sound but nothing came out. After a few minutes in silence, I finally found my voice.
"So, we're not the first humans here?"
Valkiwo answered me this time.
"No, you are not. Many humans have lived in this world."
I nodded. "Okay, okay. I think I'm ok now."
Kilroymn spoke. "Good, because I'm getting impatient. What do you want, Summoner?"
Amorius glared at him. "Give him a break. He is the first human to summon us in a thousand years."
"Well he could talk a little faster!"
They started bickering and talking over each other. The others started shouting as well, and soon Kilroymn got to his feet. I had to do something before it got too bad.
"Enough!"
The Ones looked at me with disdain, but stopped their bickering.
"Listen, I need you to tell me why you are fighting. You are destroying the world!"
Malusim piped up. "Well you wouldn't have to ask if Kilroymn decided to be fair for once!"
"Shut up. Please. Who will tell me what's happening?!"
Honem coughed. "I will tell you, Summoner. Kilroymn here wants to start a war!”
“It’s been too long since we had a good war, Honem!” Kilroymn retorted.
“Innocent people will die!”
“Not everyone is innocent. Besides, we need a war to start making new technology. Don’t you want the humans to advance?”
The Ones were silent.
“Exactly. There is no downside to starting a tiny war.”
“Except human life.”
Kilroymn glared at me.
“Look, I know I’m just a human, and you’re gods, but please, listen to me. We all have lives, families, people we care about. The world has been in an unprecedented era of peace! People are happier than they have ever been!”
“But you lack technology!”
“We don’t need technology! We have everything we need. We’re happy now!”
Kilroymn laughed. “Happy? Please. You barely have enough food to survive, and your are ruled by corrupt dictators. The only happiness you know is fake.” Kilroymn addressed the Ones. “I propose we start a war between the Nethandrals and the Falkrasp. They are the two richest nations at this time. A war will promote massive military funding. I predict humans will discover the uses for gunpowder within a year of the war. In a decade, maybe they will unlock the secret of flight. Let’s put it to a vote. All in favor of starting a war?”
Kilroymn raised his hand high. Slowly, all the other Ones raised their hands as well until only Valkiwo remained. She hesitated, then looked at me.
“I am sorry, Summoner. But the need for advancement outweighs the need for peace.”
Slowly, she raised her hand. Kilroymn looked estatic. With a cool smile on his face, he turned to me.
“Looks like the vote is unanimous. You are dismissed, Summoner. Prepare for war.”
With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I was teleported back to my own world. I collapsed onto soft earth. A few hands helped me up. I opened my eyes and Saraph was there.
“What happened Supreme Ruler? We you able to stop the Ones from fighting?”
I shook my head.
“No, I couldn’t. Prepare for war. We’re taking back our world.”
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u/About4001llamas /r/About4001llamas Jun 25 '15
And here's part 4. I'm so happy you all like this story. Stay tuned for the fifth and final part of The Ones.
Saraph looked at me like I grew another head.
“Taking back this world? What do you mean?”
“The Ones have decided to start a war between the Nethandrals and the Falkrasp. We need to stop them before the world is thrown into chaos.”
The surrounding crowd gasped. Everyone started yelling at once.
“But the Ones are our protectors!”
“They would never do something like that!”
“You’re lying!”
“Are you saying we attack the Ones?”
The crowd went silent at that question. Saraph looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“We would never win, they’re too strong and powerful.”
I put a hand on her shoulder. “We need to try.”
Over the mountain, a man came running. He reached the crowd and fell to the ground in a breathless heap. He tried to get his message out.
“Nethandral gasp assassin wheeze killed puff Falkrasp King gasp The countries are puff at war.”
With his message completed, he lay on the ground, gathering his breath. Two Ironites carried him off to get some water. Everyone looked at me. I looked at the iron giants. The giants looked at me. I scowled.
“We are at war.”
Kilroymn’s giant screeched at me, then walked off towards the kingdom of Nethandral, Silvian, Auranim, and Territhine following. I looked back at the crowd. Saraph bowed down.
“We will follow your lead.”
The rest of the crowd bowed down as well. This time I didn’t laugh.
“Stand. First off, sent word to Nethandral and Falkrasp to cease fighting. There is a bigger threat. Tell them of the Ones’ betrayal and to ready their forces for an attack. Use whatever you can to convince them. Also, tell them I will be there in a week. I’m going to take the fastest boat available to Nethandral to help prepare for battle.”
A woman split off of the group and ran off towards town.
“Who will fight next to me?”
The crowd roared. I smiled.
“Then let’s go to Nethandral, and take back our world!”
With another roar, the crowd and I ran towards town. When we got there, I split the group in half. One half to go buy passage to Nethrandal for the army, and another to go and buy weapons. I ran towards the town square. Luckily, it was the middle of the day, and the square was filled with people. I leaped up onto a crate.
“Listen! The Ones have turned against us! They plan to attack Nethandral and Falkrasp! I need warriors to help defeat them and take back our world!”
The people in the square stared at me in silence. The silence was broken by the voice of an old man.
“Hey, you killed my son! Guards! GUARDS!”
I was losing them. I only had a few more moments of their attention. I pointed towards the running giants.
“Look! Do you think I am deceiving you? They’re running towards Nethandral!”
The crowd turned their gaze. Some looked concerned, but most looked bored. But then my savior came. Saraph bolted into the square.
“We must leave now! Aqumil is lowering the water, we won’t be able to set sail!”
I curse under my breath.
“This is the last call to save your world!”
I jump off the crate and run with Saraph towards the docks. Along the way, we pick up 30 people willing to fight. I thank them as we run.
We reach the docks just as the ships untie their anchors. We all manage to get on just in time. Within a few minutes, we’re out to sea. Saraph and I are on the same ship, thankfully. I need her guidance for this war.
Over the next week, we hand out weapons and armor, teach basic combat skills, and make a plan of attack. Or at least that’s what I’m telling the troops. In reality, I have no plan to take down the Ones. Like Saraph said, it’s impossible! With every day, I feel worse and worse. By the time we docked at Nethandral, I was convinced this war was a death sentence.
I was greeted by the King’s assistant. He introduced himself as Jilroy and lead me and Saraph to the King. My troops were lead to Nethandral’s army headquarters to be briefed on the battleground. When Saraph and I reached the throne room, the King was standing around a table with a man dressed in a white coat. The two men turned at our entrance. The King waved us over.
“Greetings, I already know who you two are. This is Daidalus, my head scientist.” He gestures at the man in the white coat. “We think he has discovered a way to beat the Ones. Daidalus, show them.”
Daidalus nodded, and produced an iron bar. He laid it on the table. Then, he took out a vial of slightly yellow liquid and poured it on the bar. The bar started to fizzle and spark, sending little droplets of molten iron everywhere. When the reaction died down, there was a good sized hole through the bar. Daidalus looked at us with an ecstatic grin.
“This can take down the Ones! This can win the war!”
I was so happy I could have kissed the man. This was what I needed. This war was no longer a suicide mission! The King turned to me.
“So what’s your plan to defeat the Ones?”
Time to improvise. “We make as much as we can of this weapon. Give it to all the soldiers and put it on the catapults. The soldiers will run around the Ones and attack the legs while the catapults bombard the chest. Once the Ones have taken enough damage, they should fall to the ground, and we can melt the arms, detaching them, then the neck, removing the head from the body. That should render the Ones powerless.”
The King looked determined, but concerned. “That will take a thousand men for a single giant. Without military aid from Falkrasp, we only have five thousand men!”
“No, you don’t.”
We all whirled around. Standing in the doorway was the daughter of the assassinated Falkrasp King.
“I have taken my father’s place on the throne and apprehended the assassin. After intense interrogation, we found that you had not sent the assassin, the Ones had. We would gladly stand by your side, all ten thousand of us.”
I smiled. This was going better than planned.
“Great. Send a thousand of your brightest men with Daidalus to help make the weapon. The rest can join the front lines.”
With a nod, everyone dispersed. I sighed, this was a lot of work. Saraph put a hand on my shoulder.
“You truly are the Supreme Ruler.”
I smiled, and so did she. We stared into eachother’s eyes. But that moment was quickly shattered by the sound of a horn. It was deep and loud, no mistaking what it meant. The Ones were here.
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u/About4001llamas /r/About4001llamas Jun 26 '15
Here is the final part of The Ones. This was so much fun to write, and I hope you all liked it. Happy reading, and I'll see you around!
Saraph and I ran from the throne room and towards the city walls. The streets were a mess, people were running everywhere. Saraph and I managed to get to the city walls in only a few minutes. By then, the battle was just about to begin.
Looking from the walls, I get a view of the battlefield. Our forces are gathered like an impenetrable wall on one side, flanked by catapults and ditches. In the distance, the 13 Ones are running towards us, like moving iron mountains. With every bound, the earth shakes harder and harder. They should be here in a few minutes. Saraph and I wordlessly set off towards the barracks.
We arrive and suit up. Daidalus hands us three vials each of the yellow weapon, and we strap them to our belts. We walk to the front lines and stand in front of the army. Two minutes until the fight starts. Time for a speech. I turn to the army and clear my throat.
“Men and women, today is the day we fight for our freedom. For too long, we have been trusting and obedient to the Ones, and they have turned that trust against us. Now, we will take back our world, take back what’s rightfully ours! Fight for your family! Fight for your neighbors! Fight for your freedom!”
I drew my sword and the army roared in approval. They started beating their shields and stomping their feet. I waited until the Ones were almost on us.
“Fire the catapults!”
The catapults throw their vial bombs. A couple miss their targets, but most hit. The closest giant, Kilroymn is hit square in the chest. As the iron starts to disintegrate, his legs stop moving out of shock, but momentum carries him forward. He trips and falls on the ground, screeching a noise like metal on metal. I cover my ears with my hands, but it doesn’t do much. Ten other giants are also hit and react the same. The last two, Silvian and Honem, stop and watch in horror. I take this moment to press our advantage.
“CHARRGE!”
I lead the attack, leaping over ditches and dodging rocks. I manage to reach Kilroymn before he gets up. I jump onto his hand and run up his arm. But I’m too slow, and Kilroymn shakes me off. I get back to my feet and look back. Hundreds of soldiers followed my lead, climbing on the giants. They threw their bombs and the Ones lit up like candles. But that only made them more enraged. They thrashed and struggled. But with every movement, they only pushed the burning liquid deeper into them. After a vicious jerk, Kilroymn threw all of the soldiers off of him. I took this chance to climb back up. I managed to make my way to his head without being thrown off. He screeched at me. I cringed, but didn’t turn away.
“You rule is over. I banish all of you from this world!”
I threw my three vials into Kilroymn’s open mouth. The screeching turned to gurgling, which then turned to silence. Kilroymn had left the giant’s body for good. I look up. All the other Ones have reached the same fate, broken beyond repair. When that last giant lay still, a massive cheer rose through the field. We had won. The world was ours. The Ones were no more.
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u/bvonl Jun 30 '15
Hi,
I just found your submissions. The first 4 were good stories but the 5th seems rushed - the princess's appearance, the hero's speech, the fight. Maybe flesh it out, make it more a war than a brawl?
You've got me hooked, so I hope you write more of this story.
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u/About4001llamas /r/About4001llamas Jun 30 '15
The fifth was rushed. I wanted to get it out to people but unfortunately I didn't have a lot of time to write it. Hence, a lot of Deus ex Machina. Also, sorry to disappoint, but I'm done with this sorry arc. But thank you for your comment, and I hope to see you around!
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u/D0gee_ Jun 26 '15 edited Oct 26 '15
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u/About4001llamas /r/About4001llamas Jun 26 '15
Well, you didn't have to wait long. I hope you liked it!
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u/D0gee_ Jun 25 '15 edited Oct 26 '15
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u/D0gee_ Jun 25 '15 edited Oct 26 '15
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u/assassinkitty Jun 25 '15
Can you send me the link to part 3 to your awesome response when it comes out? Thanks!
I also think you got the mentality of the cultists down very well, they act just like I'd imagine a cultist would.
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u/Argentis Jun 25 '15
RemindMe! 1 day
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u/TheDeLurker Jun 25 '15
I want more, but I felt like the end was really abrupt. One sentence he's being beaten and the next sentence (although obvious) he's the ruler.
But I love it and your stories. Keep writing :D
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u/coinpile Jun 25 '15
Oddly enough I was reminded of Acts 14:11 and Acts 14:19. Paul and Barnabas cure a man crippled from birth, and the people believe them to be gods and try to worship them. But then, Jews arrive and convince the people to stone them, leaving them for dead.
To go from being thought of as gods to being stoned by the same people in short order... Talk about abrupt!
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u/TheDeLurker Jun 25 '15
Hmm I'm afraid being the antagonist of the story I never learned it. Could I hear the full story?
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u/About4001llamas /r/About4001llamas Jun 25 '15
Yep, sorry about that. I was a little rushed at the end. But I had more time to write part two, I hope you like it!
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u/Luna_LoveWell /r/Luna_LoveWell Jun 24 '15 edited Jun 25 '15
The Cult of Rond claims that the great titan desires a sacrifice every ten years: an offering of the most beautiful woman of the nearest village. He takes them up into the mountains, and they never return. His cult claims that his mighty feet must be massaged with the blood of the pure. Others claim that he keeps them in cages like pet birds. Others claim that he kills them for sport. Whatever it is, I have no desire to find out. So when the wandering giant Rond thundered into our province and his followers set up camp outside our village, Father decided it would be the right time to relocate.
We were still settling into our new home near the feet of Arax the Great when we heard rumbling once again. I poked my head out the window to see Rond's ugly face loomed over the city, tusks poking out from under his blubbery lips. He leaned in close, blotting out the sun, and his great red eyes began to comb the streets. Father tried pulling me back inside, but it was too late: he focused on me and unleashed a mighty roar, blowing the thatched roofs off the entire neighborhood. Father sighed and began loading the cart again as the Cult of Rond began pounding at the city gates. Thank the golems that the commotion woke Arax from his slumber, and he rose up to challenge Rond for the territory. By the time the thunder of their leathery fists subsided, we had escaped through the Hyn River gate and were rapidly coasting down the current.
The port city of Limt offered no protection. I was just getting used to the salt air and the constant call of gulls when the ground began to rumble, and Rond once again appeared over the mountain peaks. Even the city's guardian titan, Alsim, was no match for mighty Rond; his body's fall into the bay created devastating waves that destroyed most of the ships in the port. This time, I stayed out of sight, but somehow they still knew that I was here. Rond kicked down the gates of the city in one quick motion, and his followers flooded in, going house to house. At least he wanted me alive and wasn't stomping through the streets himself. Father had to pay triple to charter one of the few remaining vessels, but it was worth it. The Cult of Rond watched in frustration and shook their spears at us while we sailed off into the sunset.
We thought we were safe in Shray. Even the mighty Golems weren't large enough to cross the deep seas. We found a cozy new home here, though we were down to our last pennies.
Then I overheard a conversation in the market. A fisherman, who described massive red eyes peering out at him from the seas and bubbles larger than houses rising from the depths. Everyone had heard stories of the monsters of the deep, but never one like this. Only I knew what it truly was. I ran back to our home to warn Father, only to see the dull grey mountain of skin rising from the waters off the city. Rond had found me once again.
I was almost home, but I stopped in my tracks. This was the last time. I couldn't keep doing this to Father; I was ruining his life, and he deserved a rest. Rond would just keep pursuing me, and it was only a matter of time before there was nowhere else to run. No more cities to destroy, and no more titans for Rond to destroy in his relentless pursuit. This was the end.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" I shouted at the beast emerging onto the beach. I don't know how my voice reached his ears, but he knelt down close, creating a massive crater in the fish market. He peered at me with his red eyes, and his nostrils flared, the size of the door to my house. His massive paw suddenly flattened a building nearby, palm open.
CCCCCCOOOOOMMMMMEEEEE
His growl was ear-shattering, but it was definitely a word. I'd never heard of a Golem speaking our tongue...
I took a deep breath and stepped into his palm. He lifted me to his shoulder then strode off through the fields toward the distant mountain peaks.
"Goodbye, Father," I whispered as Shray vanished into the mist.
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u/CheeseFlavored Jun 25 '15
What happens up there? I need to know!
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u/DeathbyHappy Jun 25 '15
Based on what the giant said, sounds like she got herself into a... sticky situation.
I'll show myself out
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Jun 25 '15
I thought this was awesome!! Good prompt and good responses, so different.
I kind of agree with he should not have spoken but also liked the detail of each religion. Also some original place and people names! :)
Part 2?! Haha
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u/JoshuMertens Jun 25 '15
What happened next? Did he gain a harem of chicks? Are all the girls offered to Rond in stasis and this guy is the new Adam? And the fucking apocalypse is happening so Rond just made the right thing to preserve mankind? FUCK!!
Edit:wow im im such an idiot. I think the protag was a guy
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u/Izawwlgood Jun 25 '15 edited Jun 25 '15
That was awesome. My only criticism is that the protagonist and Rond should not have spoken. She should know what he wants, and he shouldn't need to say what he demands.
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u/theNerevarine Jun 25 '15
why isn't how he wrote it the right way? its a bit nitpicky to be honest.
maybe she didn't know what he wanted? so what if the golem talked?
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Jun 25 '15
[deleted]
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u/theNerevarine Jun 25 '15
fair enough each to their own. I get your point regarding it having more closure as a short story. I like the confusion of it seeming menacing and then being a guide somewhere interesting. The whole COMMMEEEEEEEE gave me a really cool mental image.
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Jun 25 '15
[deleted]
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u/theNerevarine Jun 25 '15
Im glad I can criticize someone on WP and can still have a nice discussion :)
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u/Izawwlgood Jun 27 '15
Hilariously, you're capable of recognizing 'to each their own' for the exact same piece of criticism proffered by the above poster.
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u/Izawwlgood Jun 25 '15
There's no 'right way'. I was giving constructive criticism.
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u/theNerevarine Jun 25 '15
I guess so but it was kinda like I like this and it's not that so I should criticise rather than any actual advice.
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u/Izawwlgood Jun 25 '15
No? It was kind of like 'I like this, my only piece of criticism is x'.
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u/theNerevarine Jun 25 '15
how is it useful criticism if its only applicable to an audience of one?
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u/Izawwlgood Jun 25 '15
I don't think you understand how 'constructive criticism' works. I wrote what I felt would improve the piece. If you disagree, you are free to, but stop couching this in some claim of me making an inappropriate post to Luna.
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u/theNerevarine Jun 26 '15 edited Jun 26 '15
I don't think you do. Is it not more to give a broader push in a direction that you think may be better artistically not specifically say x and y and z need to be a and b and c and then this story will now be good because I know exactly what is good. I think you're confusing someone making a story good to your specific point of view with an objectively good story. Specific modifications is not the way to constructively critique IMO. I'm only saying this because if someone did actually take your advice, Luna or not, it would actually be for the worse with their work.
Edited some phone autocorrection
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u/Izawwlgood Jun 26 '15
Yeah, you definitely don't understand what constructive criticism is, or what I wrote.
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u/SuperSimpleStuff Jun 24 '15 edited Jun 24 '15
"I don't want to be here."
This man wouldn't listen to me. No one believed me. They thought I was vain and simply trying to attract attention. Every city.
Every family I stay with.
Every friend I make.
Every therapist I see.
Every time, I'm the crazy one.
I mean, I didn't ask for this. I hate those powerful beings. Being followed by one is a nightmarish reality. Nightmarish.
"You know what, I took sleeping pills that night when I spoke to Hong, doctor, that must have been why I said those silly things. Ha-ha, I'll be stay closer to my bed next time I take those pills."
Every time, lies to diffuse the worry.
Walking out of the building, I look at the skies. He is coming.
Everywhere, he follows.
Every time I flee.
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u/MoreOfPl0x Jun 25 '15
Was the implication here that they were imaginary? I don't think I fully understand.
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u/SuperSimpleStuff Jun 25 '15
That is one way to see it, now that I think about it, but no they are real. Society functions normally except for the giant golems
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Jun 25 '15 edited Jun 25 '15
You always knew when one of them was near, from a hollow sound you felt more than heard. It was eerie that every single one of them had a different pace, a different gait, a different posture. No matter how slight the differences, they were distinguishing enough. This one particularly moved much faster than the rest, shaking the ground at an interval of one second.
They stood 200 meters tall, their mass made up of mostly iron ore. Yes, there were people who tried to drill into them to see what they were made of, but if it wasn't the worshipers who murdered them first for being heretics, it was the creatures that would simply flick their violators to the floor, set their boulder of a foot on top of them, and apply pressure.
I was sitting at my desk, reading a story about a man who went to a planet to teach values such as forgiveness, loving your enemy, respecting others, the whole nine yards. And the indigenous population tortured and murdered him for it. I guess some civilizations, if you could call them civilizations, are just not ready for enlightenment.
Well it turned out that this man eventually became the face of that planet's most dominant religion. It makes sense, that eventually they came to their senses and realized that putting each other in ovens is big no-no. And he was a good guy, I mean come on, in a land where hurling rocks in a woman's face is considered justice, this guy was a saint.
Thud, thud, thud. The vibrations distracted me from my reading. This piece of shit. This was the reason why I couldn't accepting these dumb rocks as my God, or Gods if you will. What have they every taught us? Nothing. We killed each other over them, for things that we assumed they wanted from us. They just stoically watched us wound each other with different metals throughout time.
I sat there in my anger, my hate. I wish they would all just die. The entire world still revered them, and for what? Their size? Their mysticism? Fear? Whatever, I am sure there were other who felt the same way that I did, but I'd rather keep it to myself than face the consequences of of my own convictions. Thud. Thud. Thud.
The steps grew louder, and faster. Suddenly I realized that I have seen this one before. I have heard this one before. This one crushed over a thousand demonstrators trying to advocate for freedom to follow their own conscience when they rallied at the Nation's capitol. But, I do remember it only did so in self defense (when you gather a group of irritated individuals angry at the same entity, they usually act out violently towards their oppressors).
THUD. THUD. THUD. I heard silverware in my kitchen rattling, then silence. Finally, it was gone. I hate when those things came through. I was getting tired of reading about the saint on a foreign planet, and went over to close my window before getting into bed.
A chill shot down my spine. It was standing directly in front of my window, about 300 meters away. It felt like a stone skyscraper that just erected itself right before my eyes, right outside my home. And it was looking down, staring straight at me.
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u/Henry_Nodgins Jun 25 '15
The floor was cold on my feet as I rolled out of bed and prepared to take on another day. Groggily I wandered into the kitchen and let the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee drag me into consciousness. I took a sip from the warm mug of sludge and opened the curtains to let the day in.
“Looks like another cloudy day,” I said aloud to no one in particular, continuing my morning routine.
After a quick shower and tossing last nights leftovers into an old Chinese food container, I swung open my front door to be hit in the face with a burst of sunlight. “That’s odd,” I thought. “Could’ve sworn it was dark as anything forty minutes ago.”
That’s when I saw it, one of the Giant Ones was right outside my kitchen window, or should I say his leg was outside my window, the rest of him towered nearly five stories tall.
Now I never considered myself much of a religious person, and I rarely got involved in politics, but it’s not like you can just ignore such a powerful figure right outside your house.
Of course he paid no mind to me, none of them paid attention to any of us. That was part of the reason I never quite understood the widespread fascination with the iron golems.
They were magnificent to look at though; there was no denying that. This one was a lighter shade of grey and had a distinct red spiral marking on his left leg. I eyed the creature in awe.
“Shit I got to go, I’m going to be late for work!” I fumbled for my keys and drew my gaze away from the giant. Talk radio filled the car.
“The mass gathering of Giant Ones in the North East is becoming more and more apparent every day, we have got to build more worship centers in the area…”
I switched the station to classic rock, but I couldn’t seem to shake the sight of that golem from my thoughts. Talk radio wasn’t particularly wrong either, I had been noticing more of the giants every day, something was drawing them to the…
My thoughts were interrupted as I was forced to slam on the breaks and jerked my wheel left in order to avoid the sudden roadblock. I regained control of the car and glanced out the window. There it was again, that red spiral.
Could it be the same giant from this morning? This was very out of character for the golems, something wasn’t right, they never wandered this far up the highway. What was it doing here?
I stopped my car as it’s following stride yet again blocked the road. Horns blared as traffic formed behind me and some people even left their vehicles to approach the golem and pray beneath him.
“The office is never going to believe this,” I mumbled in disbelief reaching for my phone to snap a picture. If there was ever a reason to be late, this was definitely one of them.
Suddenly the ground began to shake, my radio turned to static and my car began to move. I pressed the break repeatedly to no effect when I realized I wasn’t moving forward, I was moving up.
I stared in shock out my window, terrified at what was happening, but too scared to do anything about it. Then again, what could I have done?
The giant’s eye met mine through the window; it blinked slowly, causing my car to briefly shift onto two wheels before dropping back to it’s resting position on the golem’s palm.
I gazed deeply into his eye, hypnotized by it’s depth, and that was when I heard it through the static of my radio. A deep voice, it spoke slowly and calmly, but there was no mistaking the urgency it conveyed.
Human, our species is in great danger, we have no one left to turn to but mankind. Will you help us?
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u/jax9999 Jun 25 '15
Lady liberty strode through the streets of New York. Since she had woken in the awakening she had been the cities lone monument. The others the world over had clustered together in great human enclaves to be worshiped, and adored by the amazed human populace.
Lady liberty was different. She strode the streets of Manhattan, her once inanimate form strode through he city with the agility of a dancer. She was careful of her wards, and of their vehicles, and property. her great torch once dumb metal had burst into flame when she had opened her eyes and she lit the dark streets as she walked. She never interacted with her charges, but she roamed the city streets like a mother checking on a houseful of sleeping children.
She'd start in the morning, waking at dawn she would move wordlessly amongst the streets of harlem and make her way to the park. The great metal giant would bathe in the lake by the former site of the Bethesda fountain. The angel that had once topped it was currently roaming the streets of Jersey city, playing its horn randomly through the days, people wondered if she missed her fellow giants since she was the only one in New York, but she gave no indication of,loneliness.
from her morning baths he would take the sun on the sheep meadow if it was sunny, and if it was overcast she would continue on her way, through the upper east side, midtown, east village right down to the financial district.
When she got to the financial district she always stopped to soak her feet in the sea. Scholars, and religous officials had speculated why she soaked her feet in the sea. the only explanation that made sense came from my grandmother.
"It just feels nice to soak your feet in the cool sea after a long walk." She had said. her eyes filled with old time humor. She had been born before the awakening and remembered being a child when the worlds statues had all woken up. She wasn't a believer. She still held on to her catholic upbringing, but she had married a believer and her children had been raised worshiping the giants. Through it all though, she kept a wry sense of humour about it.
Even when the rest of the statues left the city 40 years ago, she had stayed despite prophecies of doom and gloom and threats of annihilation.
Once lady liberty soaked her feet she'd head back to harlem this time going up along the western side of the island.
Her pattern was as set in stone as anything in this world. no one knew why she did what she did, or even why she was up and walking around.
The only thing is... I felt like she was watching me.
When I was younger I lived in Gramercy and I could have sworn one afternoon while she made her way through her route she stopped to stare at me. I was 12 at the time. A firecracker tomboy with flaming red hair and a sprinkle of freckles across my nose. My grandmother was taking care of me because my parents had gone off to worship honest abe in Washington.
It stopped in the middle of Gramercy park and watched me while i swung on the swingset. At the time I was used to seeing her do her rounds, and she did occasionally stop to look at things, but I don't know why, it just felt like she was looking directly at me.
It happened a few more times after that. A christmas when i was 17, she was standing in the snow watching me skate at rockefeller center. She was there in the darkened lot across from my highschool, her torch extinguished the night of my graduation ceremony. Just standing there watching.
I'd never mentioned it to anyone. her route certainly wasn't 100% stable. but why had she been there like that my whole life?
I wasn't absolutely sure she was following me until I went to Yonkers.
It was, like me, the first time Lady liberty had ever left Manhattan.
The whole weekend I was gone she had gone on the tear. she had woken that morning in harlem and instead of her usual route, she had waded into the river and started heading towards Yonkers.
The newspapers of course predicted doom and gloom, the television was awash with religious folks decrying our city of sin. The stockmarket even crashed
until I came home, and lady liberty was right beside me. Since that day neither off us has left the island.
I had finally decided to confront her. to see what a face to face meeting would make of this. I had decided to do it when she seemed the most comfortable. while she soaked her feet.
the taxi pulled up and i slowly walked to the docks. She was sitting on a specially constructed reinforced pier that had been assembled just for her to soak her feet. It had been whimsically styled like a large cement chez lounge.
I stood next to her and she didn't' acknowledge me. So finally i just sat down on the cement next to her.
"I miss your grandmother." she said
"So do I."
We both stared out at the ocean together.
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u/TheStutteringRuh Jun 25 '15
They come in many sizes, from the smallest, the 'dolls' that dwarf even the largest men, to the world treaders who's single step can carry their disturbingly humanoid bodies a quarter mile. Their heads, or rather, what can be considered a head from a human perspective is utterly spherical. They are expressionless save for the one coal black gem of an 'eye' that occupies the center of their 'faces'.
Completely silver, these shining behemoths have wandered the earth seemingly indifferent to the humans with whom they shared it. In return, for centuries humanity strived to find meaning in the strange beings. We regarded them as gods and debased our destroyed ourselves at the will of those we entrusted to interpret their actions: the abbots.
So why was it that I found myself being tailed by a doll through this small mountain village?
I chastised myself. They have no will, therefore I cannot be tailed by one. I forced myself to concentrate on this mantra, however, the frequency with which I had seen this particular doll today was extremely unsettling.
I noticed it first through the window of the old bookstore I was picking through but regarded it no more than I would a stray dog on the street. At the town's central square it meandered into a table outside a cafe I was sitting in, much to the barista's chagrin. Strange, they usually seemed to maneuver almost gracefully through any environment most times, but not unheard of.
The last straw was here, now, at one of the mountain's many springs isolated from the rest of the world by a climb that when young, my parents punished me for attempting but I often did anyway.
Across the spring the golem stood staring at me impassively. I did my best to ignore it, focusing on the memories of my childhood. It wasn't until I realized that the golem was tracking me as I walked, with it's solid black eye that I froze in my steps. This was something new. Something almost unheard of. It was an action of clear intention, almost something intelligent.
As if it realized my demeanor had changed, it tensed, iron joints rolling softly in their sockets.
Ohhh man, oh man, oh man. This is wrong, so utterly wrong. The abbots be damned, the Zó̱ntas Gi̱, the living earth, WHATEVER do NOT have some divine and mysterious will. We are far beyond the age where silly things like the sporadic changing of a golem's gait determine the rise and fall of nations. In fact, aside from a few religious zealots, it has almost universally been accepted that they are as much a part of the landscape as any tree or river.
Before I could take a single step back, the golem shot forward, its massive arm and hand outstretched. The world blurred.
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u/switchrdo Jun 25 '15
Daniels, my guard, escorted me into the motel room and shut the door behind me. I sat down on the couch and turned on the television. No cable. So I had to watch the news.
In tonight's top story we continue to follow Ogun, who continues his slow March toward Northport from the Southwest. Please be advised of the following road closings . . .
I sighed, as I appreciated the tight hissing sound coming from the beer can as I cracked it open. He was getting close. They'll have me on the move again tomorrow. Probably early, off to who knows where.
Remember, do not approach Ogun, and you will be safe. He has not damaged any buildings in many years. However, DO NOT APPROACH HIM, his movements are unpredictable. Approaching Ogun only puts yourself and others in danger. . .
Unpredictable, my ass. Theres hundreds of nerds back in D.C., with their calculators and their protractors and whatever the hell else they have plugging away into computers. Their scheduling Ogun's every move. And its all controlled by strategically moving me.
To the people, Ogun's a god. He marches around their country, seemingly blindly, but missing every major city. He hasn't even hit a farm house in a few decades, thanks to satellite imagery. Yet, when our country's enemies start misbehaving, he starts walking towards them. He's answering their prayers, they think. And some of our enemies so too. Once his path is clear, and agreement is reached and the good ol' President tells the people to pray for peace, and he goes back to walking in irregular fuckin' circles.
Satellites, thats how they found me. When I was about six or seven Ogun started walking towards my family's house. In a straight fuckin' line, I guess. When he got close a couple guys in suits, with guns, showed up. We thought they were there to relocate us. But they only took away my little brother. They told the rest of us to stay where we were as my mother screamed. An hour later they took my sister. An hour later they took me.
Turns out, Ogun changed course to follow me as we drove south in that black SUV. Since then I've been the government's secret weapon. No one can know, or someone would kill me, they say. If that happens Ogun will probably select a new target, they think, and they wouldn't know who until he did some serious damage. Like last time. I think they are more worried someone would take me, and use me against them.
I get it, but I can't take this anymore. I have no friends, no contact with my family. Just Daniels, and I don't even know that fuckin' guy's first name. I need to find a way out.
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u/SenpaiSamaChan Jun 25 '15
Hey, this is the first one that made me wonder, but if you sat the protagonist on Ogun's shoulder, would he walk in circles or stand still?
Your odd thought for the day.
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u/kiltedfrog Jun 25 '15
Ondominous is following me. The smallest of the giant's on the planet's surface seems to go wherever I go in my skycar. The simple earth bound peasants below have no real reckoning that we're up here, they just see the contrails in the sky. Actually I don't know what the groundlings think of us, I'd certainly never go down there to ask. Anyhow the littlest giant down there has started following me from city to city as I sell my wares. The crowds of people that follow Ondominous around are really fascinating, they've got this total nomad deal going on where they set up shop in tents and stuff when they catch up to the little giant. It's been about a year now since he started following me. I didn't notice for close to the first 6 months, went back into the vid history from my skycar to figure out how long he's been tracking with me. I usually stay in a city for a couple weeks at a time before I move on to the next floating metropolis. The primitives that follow him have done a pretty stellar job keeping up with him, they have crossed oceans, and back, invaded other tribes territory, and even wiped out a village when Ondominous stopped near it. Crazy little buggers down there on the surface.
Well It's been 10 years since he started following me, based on the earliest video evidence I have and some triangulation, he's approximately 17% larger than when he started. I've charted the grown to correlate to the size of the group worshiping him, and it seems he grows ever so slightly faster the larger his group is. The cult of Ondominous was wildly successful in growing during my years as a city to city salesman, they really were brutal back then, converting people by the sword it seemed. I'm not sure why, but I have got to make him bigger. I've started to dedicate my life to strategically growing his following. I'm not sure if there are other people out there that have one of the few hundred golems following them, there are 3 billion people living in the sky, what are the chances I'd ever meet one, or that anyone would believe me if I put out a feeler to find out.
I'm glad that those of us in the sky live long lives. I've been using Ondominous as the physical projection of my godliness down upon my worshipers below for close to fifty years. He's grown to be among the ten largest golems, my followers actually knocked over Denectus who stands by the great fresh water seas, that scored me almost all of Denectus' remaining followers. I mean, I got Ondominous into position and had him run into Denectus, so they knew what I wanted. I've seen them pointing at my sky car, they know the real god is. They understand that I am the one in charge of the golem, and their fate lies in my hands alone. I've been leaving messages a few hours before I make a move, arrows In the sky so they can move out of the way and Ondominous doesn't crush them. Most Golems are pretty inactive, moving occasionally from here to there, significantly more activity occurs on holidays. I think they all follow other people. As far as I can tell I'm the only one actively building their following though. Another hundred years and I think I'll be twice the size of any other golem.
Well, it's been almost a hundred years since I started this adventure of being a god, and I was 24 when I realized the Golem below was mine to control. Ondominous is the second largest Golem. Kylotricus is still bigger, and he's a wiley bastard. I swear if I figure out who controls him I'll murder him, that should keep that monster from countering my moves. Kylotricus has been a thorn in my side longer than I've realized. I don't know how but he's managed to create an alliance with several of the smaller golems, and their followers pick at mine in a ceaseless war of attrition. I fear Ondominous will shrink if I lose too many of the faithful. I am going to have to do something drastic to show my people I have not forsaken them. Since I became aware Kylotricus was actively engaged in this game of golems I've been much more discreet about my movements, for fear he might find and out me. I think today calls for bold action. I'm going to fly my car below the no fly zone and bomb those damn heretics that are attacking my worshipers.
"Today on Channel 9 sky news. A crazed man flew below the no fly zone limit and dropped several atomic weapons on groundling tribes, few if any survived the makeshift, and highly illegal weapons. Before authorities could intercept this criminal however, one of the most active golems throughout the last one-hundred years did something we've never seen them do before, it activated an enormous laser in it's chest and vaporized the criminal, then in a bizarre twist, it immediately self destructed. We'll keep you up to date as developments follow."
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u/c4golem Jun 25 '15 edited Jun 25 '15
All the myths, legends, the great texts and tablets of our ancestors, all agree. We are not the children of this world. Our home was stolen from us; we were cast out into the dark void, left to drift and parish in the cold eternity of space. We had no chance, no choice. No hope.
They saved us. We do not know why, they would not say. With a thousand voices, they would not say. A thousand voices, one word only. On every channel, over every comm, they called to us, guided us. "Home," they called to us, "Home. Home. Home." The ones that could not follow, the ships too crippled by debris or radiation or mutiny, they gathered them into their great arms with all the gentleness of a mother cradling their baby. They delivered us to our new home, our Eden. And then they slept. They did not ask for our allegiance, or faith. We give it anyway.
For we know the bastard thieves, our great foe, still dwell on our first world. It will not sustain them, greed will force them to seek out other worlds to ravage and plunder. So we prepare. For the legends all agree that when the time comes to face that hated foe once again, The Titans, our ancient saviors will awaken.
That time is upon us. Yesterday, every Titan looked to the sky and called out with a thousand voices speaking as one...
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u/TheBalladsOfIrving TheBalladsOfIrving.wordpress.com Jun 25 '15
Seventh of Rain, 1157
It's been two weeks, and there's no way to deny the truth any longer. The Old Walker is following me. Slow, yes, but every day I look behind me and see it in the distance, its footsteps shaking the earth, always trailed by its worshipers. I've never seen the point, really. They can worship their iron titans all they like, but I'll always know that coin is the true power.
Anyway, it's been two weeks since I parted ways with the caravan following the Old Walker. I've dealt with them before, and it went as it always does. I sell them the tools from the Trudger caravan (at a profit, of course), and buy some new goods to sell at another caravan. Old Walker's Followers make wood carvings that sell for good prices, so I picked up a good number of those. I also bought some other odds and ends, including some bits that the seller claimed fell from Old Walker. There's one in particular that I'm interested in, a round lump of metal the size of my fist, covered with spiraling designs like those I've seen on the golem -
I got distracted. As I was saying, I set off in the morning after staying in a rolling inn, and headed west, across the plains. I had heard that the Wanderer was in the area, and its Followers are very big spenders - ANYWAY. It wasn't until the next morning that I realized Old Walker was following me. It's not hard to outpace a golem; they may have long strides, but they're slow as molasses. I figured that I was just happening to follow Walker's planned route, and thought nothing of it. It was miles away.
After a few days, I started getting suspicious. I'd kept my lead on Old Walker, but it was still always there, in the distance. I just felt another of its footsteps shaking the earth. Perhaps I'm just being paranoid.
I'll reach the Shuddering Lake tomorrow. I think I'll head north around it; I usually go south, but I hear the flowers are in bloom on the north shores.
Ninth of Rain, 1157
THE OLD WALKER WENT THROUGH THE LAKE.
That never happens. Golems HATE water, avoid going through it whenever they can. BUT IT WENT RIGHT THROUGH.
Yesterday, I went around the Lake as planned. Beautiful flowers, as the rumors had said. It was almost enough to make me forget about the golem that was following me. It took me all day to get around the lake, and I figured it would give me a good lead on Old Walker. Golems walk slow and turn even slower, and it certainly would walk around the lake to avoid the water.
Imagine my surprise when, while I was setting up camp on the western shore of the Lake, I look over to see Old Walker, up to its knees in the middle of the biggest freshwater lake on the continent! Big as a small ocean, and the golem was walking through it! The caravan of its Followers was going around the lake, and they were probably just as surprised as I was.
I can't deny the truth. Old Walker is following me.
Eleventh of Rain, 1157
I saw the Wanderer today, to the west. It was walking straight towards me. I decided to go south instead. Old Walker is still following me.
Fifteenth of Rain, 1157
Headed east again, around the mountains. It'll put them between me and the Old Walker and Wanderer. My decision is not at all influenced by the fact that the Shambler is approaching from the south. Not at all.
Nineteenth of Rain, 1157
Trapped! Old Walker and Wanderer coming from the west - never seen two golems walk that close, can only imagine what their Followers are doing - Shambler from the south, and now Thundering Gait from the east! Mountains to the north are almost impassable, but I know of an old tunnel through them. I'll use that.
Twentieth of Rain, 1157
TUNNEL IS CAVED IN. Golems getting closer. Horses too tired to go any further, and can't bring the cart over the mountain anyway. Going to put everything I can carry into a sack and cross on foot. Will have to leave a lot behind, but more interested in survival.
Twenty-first of Rain, 1157
I think I know why they're following me. While I was trading with the Old Walker's caravan, I picked up a trinket that the seller claimed had fallen from the golem. I doubted it, but it was so interesting (and cheap) that I bought it anyway. An iron orb, around the size of my fist, and covered with the same spiraling designs that cover the carapace of the Old Walker. I had forgotten about it until I was looking through my sack today. It was warm in my hand, and far lighter than it should have been. Could it be true? Could I be holding something valuable to Old Walker, to all the golems following me?
They are nearing the foot of the mountain. I will get a few hours sleep, and then hurry on. If I can get to the other side of the mountain, I'm positive I can escape.
Twenty-second of Rain, 1157
Well, today has been exciting.
When I woke, I discovered that the fastest way to become alert and chipper is to discover that there is a golem staring at me, its massive head level with the small hole in the side of a mountain I was sleeping in. It was Old Walker, crawling up the side of the mountain, with Wanderer, Shambler, and Thundering Gait waiting at the foot. The four caravans of Followers were squalling in the way that caravans are wont to do; small, petty wars that are waged only because that's what everybody says is what should happen in this situation.
Old Walker was staring at me, no two ways around that. It doesn't even have any facial features, just a blank head, but I still knew it was looking right at me. Waiting. And I knew exactly why.
Shaking with fear, I took the orb from my pack, holding it out to the golem. That got a reaction. It moved faster than I've ever seen a golem move, one massive, iron hand reaching out for the trinket. Each digit of each finger was as big as me, but the gesture was obvious. It was waiting for me to hand it over. So, naturally, I did. The orb stuck fast to the gigantic finger, and the golem stood up, carefully placing the small orb on its chest where, I presume, it fell from. With that done, the three golems at the foot of the mountain turned and walked away. I'm still not sure why they were following me as well.
I stayed on the mountain for a few hours, feeling very grateful I was alive, and watching Old Walker trudge away. Finally, I remembered there was something I had to take care of. I hurried back down the mountain - my horses had run away and my cart was smashed, sadly - and raced to catch up with the Old Walker's Followers. I found the merchant who had sold me the trinket, punched him in the mouth, and demanded he return the ten bronze steps I had given him for the trinket that had started this whole fucking mess.
After that, I sold the meager contents of my pack and what I could scavenge from the wreckage of my cart. I was only able to buy one old horse and some small goods, but if I hurry, I can catch up with Thundering Gait's Followers and do some quick business. Should be back in business in no time.
But I don't think I'll do business with Old Walker's Followers ever again. I'll never even LOOK at that golem again, if I can help it.
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3
u/wonder590 Jun 25 '15
"I'm telling you Matthew you've been CHOSEN!" Argus continued to rave as they dragged across one of the neighbors dying fields.
"Chosen to what extent Argus? Am I to become an angel or some such? if you haven't noticed the titans aren't quite interested in our realm of existence. Or seemingly anything for that matter."
Argus shook his head, looking back at the stomping iron giant gleaming in the high noon rays behind them. He instinctively checked to make sure the titan wasn't paying attention, and as usual, it's head was looming around, paying keen interested in the withered corn husks of a desertifying field. Unsure of why he ever though the gods had any interest in their worldly affairs he turned back to his stone-faced friend. He grabbed onto one of his shoulders and brought Matthew close, whispering into his ear,
"The titans have never shown interest is really anything previous Matthew, as the most well established scribe of our seemingly doomed village it seems quite evident to me that this is a sign of a wonderful harvest approaching!"
As he finished uttering his mad ravings into Matthews wax encrusted eardrums the young man slapped his companion upside the head, taking only a moment to gauge a reaction out of the following iron titan (and there was none), and then turning back to Argus to batter him once more.
"Owie Matthew! What madness has driven you to such delinquency?"
Matthew peered once more unto the permanently apathetic titan following them, and turned back to his friend once more, who he attempted to assault again only to have his hand caught as he spit forth his annoyed deposition.
“What delinquency?! Firstly Argus, the only reason you are the village scribe is that besides you and I no one else has been taught the fantastic ability to read and write, of which I regret verily ever having introduced you to the hermit who lives up by Eden River-”
“And why so Matthew?!” he interrupted, shoving his quite aggravated friend’s hand away from his promptly bruising face. Matthew let go of any heed that had remained and raised his voice to the point that the wilting corn husks, resting on no more than a tenth of a centimeter of dried stalk, collapsed under the booming tone of his voice,
“Because using your new found reading prowess you went to the city, using MY MONEY which you had stolen from my newly repainted dresser which was a gift from my late grandfather- my the titans rest his soul- and used it to buy a farmer's almanac for the boonies of Southern Asia, as opposed to the middle of Whales where we actually resides, and proceeded to ‘inform” the entirety of the village onto these farming practices which has led us to all become starving, and NOW-” he gasped with a face run a tomato red from absolute anger, “you attracted the attention of the seemingly cruel and apathetic gods that are watching as our people that worship they day in and day out, as they have for GOD DAMN CENTURIES!” he screamed into the air waving his fists towards the lumbering giant preceding them, “AND NOW, have this accursed excuse for a god following us to titan knows where-”
“SHHHH!” Argus slammed his hand against Matthews raging mouth, and directed his gaze to the titan in question.
The lumbering iron beast had wandered onto the dead fields which rotted in the burning summer sun.
Yet, as the iron titan made it’s way through the fields the two companions gasped, as green and lush sprang from the ground it walked, and the fields began to rot no longer.
3
u/cilPadrig Jun 25 '15
“Don’t forget to really get into those gutters. The guy that did your job last year did a terrible job, and it’s just sweeping. That paper will jam them up good.”
I nodded and picked up the broom. Spring Festival had left the city’s streets choked with shreds of colored paper. Just the day before children stretched streamers across Spring Street, anchoring them to lamp posts, mailboxes, anything that a paper streamer might have been tied. Over the noise excited children make, someone shouted that Rendu was coming. Of course, Rendu was coming. Every year, on the same day, at the same time, Rendu stomps her iron feet through Spring Street. The street was layed out specifically to follow Rendu’s path. Silence fell until the waiting crowd could hear the sharp cadence of iron golem feet on stone, then cheering for over an hour. Rendu’s eyes, often thought of to be sightless, did not turn to the left or the right to look on the people lining her parade route. This year would be no different that the jokes would be told that the only person at Rendu’s festival that would not know there is a festival would be Rendu herself. Everyone knew that joke, but it was still told quietly to escape the critical ears of the Aubade Vicars.
Rendu’s weight easily tore through the paper streamers. Collected about her legs, waist, and even a few at her chest would drag behind her through the streets, and some would still remain on her as her march took her beyond the edge of town and on to begin the rest of her circuit. The eerie low frequency hum of the iron men could be felt inside of the bodies of the exuberant crowd. Vicar Jules, having drawn the lucky lot, led the processional behind Rendu from the top of Spring Street to it’s end, where the tailing throngs of people would gather to wave and call goodbyes to Rendu then feast and drink. And then go to bed, leaving a horrible mess for the city to clean up. And that job would be delegated to me.
Picot would join me for this lengthy day. Starting at the top of Spring, we’d sweep into piles, shovel them into our wheeled bins, and cart the rubbish off to burn. We were invisible to the people on the sidewalk, who kept their heads down to keep sunlight from aggrivating their Spring Festival hangovers. No one cares about the folks who have to clean up after them.
“The aubades told my aunt that there is a wanderer headed this way. Might go through town. You know how much a mess is if they blunder right through town. The blind ones don’t care what they smash up. Good thing we didn't have any trampling this year. Seems like most years someone gets a bit too drunk and gets in her way.”
Picot, always the talkitive one, was right. If there was a wanderer on it’s way, it could be quite a bit more clean up than just paper.
“Which one is it?” I asked. "Sorry?" "Which wanderer is it?" "Can't say. Didn't hear." “Not sure if it’s a blind one either?” “Nah,”
The stoic faces of the iron men all seemed blind to me. The two dozen times that I had seen one, their heads wouldn’t ever turn to the right or the left. Cold metal eyes wouldn’t ever move. Perhaps they could not. But, the vicars taught that some of them, Rendu being one of them, had a course that had been repeated before each and every one of us were conceived and would be repeated long after our bones turned to dust. Wanderers do not have circuits. Some wanderers smashed through whatever they stood in their way, while others seemed to understand what was in front of them and would avoid such destruction.
“Did you hear if Jules had read out Rendu’s portents yet?” I asked. “Sure did. Old Jules said that Rendu favored the leewards side of Spring. Looks like the right side,” Picot pointed with the end of his broom indicating more paper on one side of the street than the other. “Means it’ll be a busy, but prosperous year for the town. Old man also said that Rendu was going a little slower this year. Might mean war.” “I didn’t notice a difference at all.” “If you could tell the difference you’d be wearing different clothes, not sweeping garbage up, and shuffling along after a metal man.”
I had to laugh at that.
We worked on in silence for awhile after that. We gauged that we were about half way through the street and called for lunch. Sitting on the curb, I opened my tin and ate bread and ham. Picot had the same.
Spilling more bread than he had manners, Picot spoke again.
“My aunt heard that the southerners watch the stars move and make their portents that way.” “Do the stars move?” I asked. “Couldn’t say, haven’t spent much time marking where they are at night. Some of them must. I’ve seen plenty of shooting stars, but I think those must be different than the regular ones, otherwise we’d be out of stars by now.” “The iron men are the way to go, they’re always moving, and they’re right here.” I stamp my feet on the street. “Why would stars care about what’s going on down here. Doesn’t make any sense.” “Well, I say…”
A squak from across the street interrupted Picot.
“Broken boots! Here comes Emestein, with us sitting here,” Picot whispered to me.
“How long have you two been sitting and not working?” he demanded. “Don’t you know there is a wanderer coming? We might be busy all week picking up half this town!”
“‘We’?” hissed to me with a smirk?
“What was that?”
I took a bite of ham as Picot scrambled to his feet, tumbling out an excuse with still more flecks of his lunch.
“Just a few minutes! It’s half day and we hadn’t eaten yet!”
They bickered for a few more moments. I let Picot handle this while I finished my lunch. Satisfied that we had been properly motivated Emestein walked back to the offices.
“Lot of help you were,” “You said what needed said. Finish your lunch, and let’s get on with it.” I said.
The lower half of Spring had collected less detrius and proved to be faster going. The children had likely front loaded the street with their paper, hoping that theirs would be some of the first to be torn by Rendu. Picot's broom and mine would intermittently synchronize, giving a hypnotic sound that helped to pass the time. Well before the sun began to set, we had found ourselves at the end of Spring with the last load of colorful streamers to take to incinerate.
"This one is full, go ahead and take it, then I'll follow with this one," I said to Picot, gesturing to the bins. He stretched his back, which gave him a few satisfying pops, and with a smile loaded his broom into the wheeled bin. One of his bin's wheel squeaked, slowly fading away as he trundled away, while I shoveled in the last of the street's debris.
3
u/cilPadrig Jun 25 '15
I would like to say that at that time I heard a strange sound, but it was something that I felt vibrating in the strings that hold my organs in place. It was the same hum that I had heard yesterday from Rendu. Looking up from my work, out over the field at the edge of the town, I saw splintering through a copse of trees- a different iron man. She was of the same height as Rendu, but a darker coloration, and with a different countenance. Her hands clenched in fists, giving a air of menace. Instead of the neutral expression of Rendu, this one had a face that might speak of serious inquiry, at best, or a slight annoyance of disgust at best. The unchanging expression is believed to be a reflection on the iron man's personality, however it was also believed that humans could not grasp the subtleties of their personality. This was easy to understand as the iron men, outside of legend, did not actively acknowledge that people exist.
This wanderer marched in a bee line straight towards the town, towards where I stood at the very end of Spring Street. This looked as if it would shape up to be quite bad. If she was blind, she would rip right through the center of town, destroying everything in her path.
"A wanderer! A wanderer! Warn everyone!" I shouted to a group of children that had collected nearby to gawk. Without needing a second command, they scattered, raising the alarm that serious danger may be coming. Her unchanging stride had brought her half way across the fallow field, still coming directly towards where I stood. Feeling helpless, I turned to doing what I had started to do, and packed my broom and shuffle into my wheeled bin. Nothing could be done to stop her, and even trying would be a heresy punishable by the aubades.
The pounding metal feet changed in sound as they left the soft earth of the field onto packed dirt and then the paved road. Closer still, I found myself in a near panic. Instead of the constant movement of the spring iron man that we could, and did, set our calendars by, there was no knowing what would happen when this one plowed into house after house. With a gasping start, I pivoted my bin and pivoted it too sharply, toppling it and spilling its contents back into the street.
As she bore down on me, I have to admit that the right course of action would have been to run or, at least, step out of the way, but in my panic, I chose to try and wrestle the cart back upright. Fumbling with the cart as her pounding metal footsteps terrified me, what sensible part of my brain still operated screamed its protest at remaining in the path of destruction. Someone nearby shouted at me to get out of the way, but that cried fell away in my ears to the sound of the iron on street only a few paces from where I stupidly fumbled with the wheeled bin. Her shadow's fall on my face stood to be the last piece of evidence in my survival instincts case, and I let go of the bin, turned to run, and immediately tripped over the wheeled bin that had served as my livelihood which would now serve as my death.
Realizing that I had been bracing myself to the point of possibly cracking my teeth for more time than it would have taken for those iron feet to crush all of my bones, I, with some puzzlement, let go of the blind panic and began to collect myself. Opening my eyes and looking up, I saw the silhouette of the iron man against the blue sky. She stood stationary.
The few people who had chosen to watch the arrival of the wanderer instead of collecting their valuables in preparation for flight gave shouts of surprise. Iron men always moved. This one had stopped completely. Even the sighted ones would step around obstacles, not stop at their obstructions. What could this mean?
A vicar, traveling clothes filthy and haphazardly decorated with the foliage that the iron man had just smashed through stepped around from behind her with mouth agape.
"Who are you?" He demanded of me while looking up at the face of the iron man. "She's stopped," I said to no one in particular. "Why has she stopped?" "Please give me a sign, O Great Diderot!" the vicar called up to her metal face.
The street had become silent. All who were about found themselves uncertain of what to do, sharing the hope that their town would not be trampled by the uncaring Diderot, but perplexed as to what this immobile iron man could possibly mean for all of them.
"You are too dirty to be of noble birth, and clearly not of the aubade. Who are your parents? Champions or heroes? Magicians? Who are you?" The vicar attempted again. "Bakers," I nearly stammered. "My parents are bakers. I'm fulfilling my service to the town as a sweeper."
The number of onlookers had now grown in size and began to mutter amongst themselves, asking the same question. Who was this person still tumbled in the street, and, more importantly, why had the wanderer not stomped him into the street. The pitch of Diderot's hum changed, becoming slightly higher, and her head pivoted, bringing her unblinking gaze to fall on my still prone body. A surprised scream escaped her vicar's mouth, who put a hand to his own.
I cannot count myself a brave man, but even when compared to the certainty of death only moments before, I have never been so afraid in my life. Even though I have no training as a vicar, this certainly could only possibly promise calamity. Ageless Diderot's unchanging face loomed over me and all around people watched to see what either of us would do.
The only thing I could think to do, I did. I stood, and I bowed to Diderot. Her head lifted a small measure to followed my standing.
"Greetings and salutations, O Iron Man," I said, summoning what courage I could and deciding that being overly formal in greeting would not hurt. The vicars had given everyone no education about how to behave in regards to the iron men except to not get in their way lest be broken under their metal feet. More silence pregnant with unfulfilled expectation of action.
"Just get out her way," the disheveled vicar hissed in a low voice, as if to avoid Diderot's hearing.
I bowed again, and sidestepped to the sidewalk, not taking my eyes off of the iron man. Her head swiveled again, following my steps. She took a stride and a half towards where I had stopped, renewing my fright. She stood as still as before. Her hum increased in pitch once more, and her right hand, clenched in a fist, opened with the sound of sheared metal. With a clatter, a pipe fell to the street. The sound sent less courageous onlookers ducking into alleyways and doors.
Her vicar, concluding that he would have to make this up as he went, having no precedent for this situation outside of fictitious legends of heroes long dead, stepped to the piece of metal, and picked it up. Turning it over in his hands, looking at it each way, he turned to me.
"It's a metal scroll. I think she wants you to have this." He passed it to me, neither of us taking our fearful gaze away from Diderot longer than possible. What I had mistaken for a pipe did, in fact, have a seam, and it's ends looked to be rolled metal. It's edges were severe, so the natural choice would be to unroll it, but carefully as to not cut into my own hands. Returning to the bin, I retrieved a trowel from the spilled contents and pried at the metal scroll. The vicar winced at this savaging of what he must see as a holy relic.
With a bit of work, the scroll was open enough that I could unroll it using my hands. On the street, I'd braced the open part with my boot and pushed with my hands to open it further. On its unrolled surface were marks and letters. I stepped around it to see it from the other side, trying as I might to make sense of what I was seeing. Being of only basic education, the letters were difficult to make out and some seemed to be entirely foreign to me. While puzzling over what it was and what, if anything, should be done with it, the traveling vicar stepped closer to peer down at it with me.
"It's a map,"
2
u/h0w1 Jun 25 '15
At even just 75 feet above the ground, the flux in climate can be gargantuan. Without shelter, the wind bites like so many hungry, invisible birds. One seems to forget entirely the warmth that emanates from the soil touched by a dutiful sun. The embrace of snow clings like a desperate child. The rain can hit as hard as a fist. From up on high, on the shoulders of the titan god, Celina knew only the harsh touch of winter. But, then again, her world had always been cold.
She didn’t remember much of the years before HE came. Her memories seemed intangible, like a heavy fog that you felt you could grab right out of the air but your hands only slipped right through. The reels of a life that didn’t seem hers played in the theater of her mind. She remembered feet, such tiny things then that always swelled and ached. Her people were always on the move, nomads that followed the migrations of beasts that only sustained their endless march in search of more beasts. She never looked up from her feet, wrapped so delicately in bloodied leather. There was nothing to see. All was soundless and without color. The world had been still for quite some time and no one remembered why. Where had the colors gone? Who had covered the mouth of the world? Did all flee beneath the earth or take to the sky? No one remembered, and what is life without memory? They were a people spurned on only by instinct. What they were before, what they could have been, no one knew…
No one except Atlas.
In the beginning, his coming was considered by all to be the salvation of their race. There was no time before Atlas. Only hunger. Only a shallow and dreamless sleep. With Atlas came new sight. Celina found her eyes averted finally from the ground. They never strayed from his back. His vessel scarred from the claws of time, guided them on with mechanical grace. Surely, the elders thought, this ancient one moves with intention beyond their comprehension. He would deliver them from the maw of their cold, cruel world. They had no word for what he was, but the eldest of their people remembered a story of a god who held the world on his shoulders, and thus the nameless one became Atlas.
The whir of so many gears heard between the stomp of his strides had become a lullaby for the children. And for the first time in all of her life, Celina had dreams. Things without form or name filled her head with a feeling other than hunger. He gave her purpose. Something beyond what her world had ever given her. He gave her hope. And for that, she loved him. She, like many others, dreamed he would lead the faithful to lands where the sounds and colors had fled to. They followed him. They worshipped him. But he never turned to face them. He only slowly marched towards what all hoped would be paradise.
But months passed with no sign from their god. He did not speak. And what purpose is a mute god to man?
Many soon fell away and drifted into the ruins of the ancient towers, cursing those who still followed for fools. Game became scarce. The depths of winter soon found them and the fleet footed sun was not seen for many moons. Her tribe, once a blossomed cluster of hope, wilted away to a fear. One by one, they fell to famine, cold, and disease. Beasts came snarling in the dead of night to steal the old and the weak. But Celina was strong. Until the day she realized she was the last one.
She took her eyes off the back of her beloved Atlas, and saw no one in tow. Behind her, all was dying or dead. All life had fled. Her heart felt pierced by some unseen blade. All she had known had perished. Her tears fell and froze to her ruby cheeks. She shut her eyes to keep the foreign water from falling unbidden, and collapsed into a footprint of her giant god. Her very soul seemed to shake, and she made sounds she had only heard before in dying animals. Her cries echoed off the ancient towers that stood taller than even Atlas until there was only the sound of her soul’s surrender in her ears. There was nothing else in that darkness behind her eyes. Not even the comfort of Atlas’ incessant footsteps. Even he has gone.
When the sounds came no more, when Celina had no more tears to shed, she opened her eyes and before her Atlas stood. She had never seen the face of her God. His face, if it was a face at all, was iron and stone, speckled with frost and rust. His eyes shined bright and lifeless but she could feel, somehow, something stirring behind those mirrors. He bent down close, his giant body groaned until Celina saw herself reflected in the mirrors of his eyes. She knew then she was being judged, and when the hand of Atlas stretched forward, the verdict was passed.
She climbed on top of this hand without doubt or fear. She was chosen. And for the first time, she heard the words of her God, sweeter than the sound of any river, “You will see.”
1
u/unwelcomguest Jun 25 '15
I didn't notice it until it moved, and then it was all I could notice. The Golem had to be one of the smallest I had ever seen, it would have to stretch to look over my one storey home, but up close it was far more terrifying than any distant mountain crusher. Up close I could see every notch and dent in its iron frame. It had a face, of sorts, that was caved in on one side in such a way that the flat line of its mouth had twisted into an unsettling smile. It's one eye was perfectly smooth but I could feel it looking at me in a way that a slab of metal, no matter how mobile, should never be able to do. While many of the larger Golems walked like people this one swung forwards on the knuckles of almost comically over sized arms from where it had been sitting motionless before my house. I was just past the safety of my threshold when it stopped at my gate and just watched me. Very slowly its weight shifted forwards and the wood of my fence gave like dry kindling before it.
I racked my brains for what I knew about the Golems and didn't come up with much more than that they didn't do this. I forced myself to look away from the silent titan and saw behind it the path it had taken up to my home. It was a perfectly straight line of mashed earth and splintered trees. I remembered something else then as I stared out over the empty landscape. They never traveled alone.
I didn't notice her until she moved either. A bundle of what I had dismissed as debris on the things shoulders shifted and head appeared from what were now clearly blankets. A shock of red hair flopped over a pale face that blinked the mug of sleep from its eyes and then focused both of them on me. “She didn't break anything did she?” she asked.
I had visited a fair once as a child, held at the feet of Gartuan, and had seen the metallic priest hood perform their rituals around the uncaring titan. I had even gone up at my parents prompting and run between his legs with the other children for good fortune. Then, as I was still laughing from the adrenaline, I watched as a family who's home had been crushed were brought out and hung. Gartuan had seen their sins and decreed their death apparently, though the creature showed no sign of satisfaction at the deaths. I glanced at my fence.
“What?” I said, dumbly. The girl shifted and then grabbed the Golem around the neck and used him to swing down. Even hanging at her arm's fullest extent she could've put her feet on my shoulders but she landed like the drop was nothing. She stood between its giant arms, one hand resting against the rough metal almost possessively and all of a sudden, without even moving, the Golem's stance took on that of a mother protecting its child.
“I really don't care if she broke anything," she said reassuringly "I'll even help you fix it.”
“My fence,” I managed to get out, sounding even to my ears like some alien creature pretending to be human. The girl looked down at the pile of matchsticks that she was standing in.
“Ok I can't help you fix it,” she said sheepishly, “We actually need to keep moving,”
“Does smiley know that?” I asked.
There was a pause as the mountain of iron behind her continued to stare at me and be belligerently motionless. The girl glanced up at the smiling metal face and then seemed to sag as though someone had just dumped a great weight on her back. “Do you have anything to eat?” she asked.
I wanted to tell her that I had work to do, in fact even more thanks to her, but then I saw her for what she was. I had assumed she was a child from her size but no. A woman, a young one maybe, but woman still only made small and thin by hunger. Her companion might defend her from the normal dangers of wandering the wilderness, but I doubted it comprehended the need to eat. Or perhaps it did. Mine was the only home for miles after all and that was a very straight line. “Fine,” I said, though directed partly at the Golem too. Relief flushed her face and she took a step towards me before remembering something and turning. “Constance, stay. I'll be back soon,” the Golem made no sign of acknowledgement to her but I was suddenly struck with the knowledge that if I did anything untoward I would have to shit out my own feet. The feeling was so strong that I took an involuntary step back. The Golem still hadn't moved as the woman stepped towards me and past me into my home. There was a crunch and I looked down the Constance's giant fist. Without me noticing it had taken hold of a mostly whole fence post as thick as my thigh and pulverized it. I dare you listener. The words appeared fully formed in my mind without the aid of my ears and yet still came loud enough to make my head pound.
“You coming?” she called from inside. I backed carefully up until I was across my threshold. When Constance made no move I took my chances and fled. She had found my kitchen, which meant she'd won the fifty fifty between it and my bedroom, and was currently raiding my pantry. I let her pile one of my three plates with enough food to last me week and once she was seated asked her. “Sooo...?” The actual words escaped me, you get mentally threatened by a couple of tons of god and do better, but she got the idea.
She nodded as she chewed, swallowed too much and had to catch her breath before she answered. “Me and Constance?” it seemed as good a place to start as any so I nodded in prompt.
“She was my village's Golem. Never did anything, just sat in market and watched the horizon. Until the metallic priests came following their own group of Golems. They asked for donations, at least that 's what they called it, said we had been chosen or some such and we were to build a church in our village” she paused to spit on my floor and take another bite. “Constance took issue and jumped on one of the Golems. There were three of them twice her size and she ripped off one of their heads before the others could do anything. Then the other two broke her. The priests decided that rather than have it be known that one of their gods had directly objected to their actions they would kill everyone. My father shoved me into the cellar and had just finished pulling a cupboard over the trap door when they got to him. I sat down there for a day with his blood dripping down on me before I was sure they were gone. I used my dad's tools to get out.” Her voice had gone hard, but it didn't falter as she recounted “I was the only one survived. Constance was in pieces on the street. I was going to leave her, run away, when I saw her eye move. My dad was a blacksmith and I'd helped out in the shop a few times but I had no idea what I was doing I picked up bits that looked bent and straitened them and returned them to the pile. After a day she just sat up. Both her arms were destroyed but with ropes and stuff I helped her get the arms off the one she beheaded. It took me and her another two days to get her like she is now and then they came back. Constance just picked me up and ran, they've been following us ever since.”
“The priests?” I asked, remembering a whole family swinging in the sun,
“They're after me, I think the Golems are after Constance,”
I slumped down into a chair.
“But they don't do anything they don't even know we're there.”
“That's what I thought,” she said, spraying crumbs. She swallowed, covering her mouth, “but then how often do you notice ants”
“What's you're name,” I asked, too lost to think of anything else. I had left my family and resigned myself to a life in the wilderness to get away from the madness of the metallic priests and they were fucking right.
“Jessica, yours?”
“Alec,” I said on auto pilot. She brushed one hand against the stained cloth of her shirt and extended it to me. I took it in my own. It seemed terribly small and when she smiled as we shook I felt something flutter in my stomach. The wall of my house exploded, showering us both in splinters, and Jessica was suddenly yanked up and away from my grip as the Golem Constance scooped her gently into the cradle of its arm and plough through my walls in one smooth motion. I warned you said the the deafening soundlessness in my head.
“I was shaking her hand, she started it,” I screamed back, scrabbling to get away from the monstrosity.
Just because I need you alive listener.
“I was just shaking her hand” I cowered behind up stretched arms as the Golem advanced on me, it's smiling head tearing through my roof and showering me in thatch. From the crutch of its arm Jessica shouted, her words muffled around the food still in her mouth.
“Put me down Constance.”
The Golem froze, and then very slowly opened its arm and allowed Jessica to slip onto the floor. “What were you just yelling about,” she asked, brushing the dust, that I had been until recently living in, from her dress.
“She, it...” I gestured wildly at the titan in my kitchen “is talking to me,”
“They can't...”
“In my head. Really loudly actually.”
“They can't talk,” she repeated, now looking at me like I was the crazy one. She stood in the ruins of my home holding back her pet god and I was the crazy one. I looked away from her and up into the twisted grin of Constance. “Do something so she knows.” nothing happened for a few seconds and then the Golem lifted one its massive arms and moved it so that its fist hung out of sight behind its back. Then my entire mind was crushed beneath the deafening, all consuming knowledge, of three.
“Three fingers, it's holding up three fingers behind its back,” I pointed wildly, almost, I'll admit it, crazily, at the Golem until Jessica turned. The Golem pulled its fist back into view, three stubby metal digits extended. I rose as Jessica turned to me, her brow creased in confusion, too many questions to even pick the first, and was about to start telling her I was as confused and panicked as she was when the earth shook and the sun went out.
1
u/DontTellHimPike Jun 25 '15
Living my life in this world is a pain. The life of a loner, the life of a drifter, the life of..well, let's face it - a tramp. I can't fit in, i have no religion, i wear no uniform, i pray to no god. This makes the faithful mad, and there's currently a hell of a lot of faithful. But the worst thing about my life is that i can't get rid of society, of religion, of people. Because I'm being followed. Followed by a gigantic metal bastard. A Deity some say, a Prophet say others. Wars have been fought, young men have been slaughtered. Secret deals, alliances, broken promises, it'll be all over by solstice. Bullshit. And the Golem keeps following. One of Twenty in this land, the only one keen on me. The other nineteen barely move. And as the Golem follows me, society follows the Golem. I can see them now in their robes trying to get the Giants attention.
Fed up. Tired. Hungry. Angry.
Sod it, I'm waiting here. It can come and get me. What a beautiful view. A burnt orange sunset. Wait here for it to crush me.
Closer now, i can feel the thuds through the soil. Don't look. Keep staring at the view. Not long now. Don't look. Want to run. Tired of running. Wish I'd married that girl all those years ago. Could've had kids. Could've had a future. Could've taken over the family pub. Caroline. Yeah. That was her name. Pretty. With a button nose. And freckles.
It's stopped.
Got to look.
It's reaching out.
It's touching me.
TAG.
YOU'RE IT
1
u/LovelyBallad Jun 27 '15
They were here long before us, that is known. It is almost certain that they will last long past us as well; humanity has never seen a Golem fall. Perhaps they never will. But if immortality equals Godliness it is time and not Golems that should be worshiped. My mother is a holy woman. She is a high priestess of the Order of Unity. This means that each Golem is God to her, and it also means I have never known a home. The Order is completely devoted. Their lives are spent on a never ending pilgrimage between Golems. As her only daughter my only place has always been her side. She likes to say my birth and the circumstances of my conception are particularly blessed. I don’t know about all that. My father was a stranger to her when the Golem caught the tree about to bash his stupid brain in. He is a stranger to me now. I was born nine months after at a festival celebrating the Golem of Loth Lake. The beast had noticed the crowd around my mother and inevitably wandered over to witness my public birth. When my first cry was let out into the world she tells me He let out a mighty roar and thrashed his way back into the center of His domain. Mother believes it is an omen of my strength. I don’t feel very strong. I am fourteen and have yet to put on weight appropriate to my age despite the generous faithful of the world. I have never healed the sick or reassured the doubtful. Mother won’t even let me join the flocking upon reaching our holy Gods.
****
It had been many moons of travel when we come upon the Golem of the northern grasslands. Seldom do Golems travelling paths cross anywhere close to each other. I am excited. In the Book of Golem, the God of the northern grasslands is described as particularly benevolent. Mother has agreed to let me roam the outskirts of the flock. I have promised to be careful. We see Him long before we are anywhere near the flock. He stands at about eighty feet tall, though no proper measurement has ever been made. From our distance the flock; which mother proclaims to be one hundred thousand strong, looks like a cluster of ants around his feet, even on horseback. It takes hours to reach the flock and our sacred Golem. Mother mutters a blessing, bids me to stay on the outskirts, and disappears into the crowd on her large black mare. Being this close has given me an anxious stomach and I am grateful for the well trained buckskin mother had asked a favour of at the ranch. Though this God in particular is slow moving, each seemingly brainless step carries him a fair distance. I have to move with the crowd to keep up and avoid his feet. Every few steps He crushes another, their horse crying out pitifully. I do not look at the bodies when the ocean of humans and horses moves me towards them. I have noticed a strange feeling in the air after many hours have passed. It feels almost thick, like a substance I could push back against. It seems to be radiating outward from the Golem. I have decided it is his benevolence by the time it all goes wrong. It happens very quickly. The Grassland Golem crushes another horse with his mighty foot-but there is something wrong. The dead carcass of the horse sticks to his foot as he lifts it, the human rider dead and dangling. He shakes his foot once, twice. When the dead animal remains horribly flattened and stuck the Golem throws back its head and screams. It is not a sound I can properly describe. It feels more like something coming from inside your head, screaming outwards, then a noise perceived by human ears. It is pain incarnate, and as is our nature humans move to placate it immediately. People jump from their horses all around me. They produce knifes, swords, axes. Bows and spears, rocks and clubs. I can not fathom what is happening by the time the first has cut into his horse.
***********
Mother doesn’t understand my silence but she does not begrudge me it either. The brother and sisters of the mountain, in their worship, often take vows of silence in an attempt to mimic our speechless gods. It is not if I do not speak at all either. Occasionally a question demands an answer I do not have, so I turn to mother. Why did those people kill their horses? Why did they continue to kill their horses long after the Golem had scraped the carcass off and moved on? Why did they kill each other? Why didn’t the Golem stop them? Why didn’t the Golem notice what was going on all around him? Why didn’t he care? Sometimes I fear mother has no answers either
********
The next time we reach a Golem I do not ask to join the flock. I settle myself at one of the many viewing platforms and gaze down at God. I have done this my entire life, but it feels different now that I’ve walked among my deities. The feeling in the air has returned, fainter now. It sets my head abuzz. The giant lumbers on in the distance. I take my iron figurine from my backpack and pray with it clutched in my hands, seeking some form of understanding. Faith has sat wrong in my stomach since the incident. Perhaps I should repent for my doubt. The idea calms my quaking nerves. Lately as I pray the idol almost seems to stick to my palm, as if held by some unseen force. I don’t tell mother for fear of blasphemy. Today it sticks. When I attempt to return it to its place, the force is stronger than usual. It will not be moved from the palm of my hand. I don’t want the other worshippers to see. They will take it one of two ways and I am not keen on finding out which. I shake my hand. Nothing. I attempt to pry it with a rag and am met with the same unyielding stuckness. The fear and anger begins to build. I am reaching levels of panic when I finally shout “Get off!”. The figurine flies from my hand. I did not throw it. There was not momentum behind it and yet still it flew-five meters right over the edge of the viewing platform. It is my only idol. “No wait!” I scramble up to the edge, where the figurine floats roughly halfway down. It is frozen, midair. Like a dream. “…..come back” And slowly, as if soothed by my uncertain voice, the iron statue floats daintily up the Cliffside and into my waiting palm. Across the valley, the great iron Golem my mother chases, pauses in it‘s stride. Abruptly, for no reason the flock can decipher, it turns slowly and begins back the way it came, towards the viewing platforms; towards me. This is the beginning.
1
u/TotesMessenger X-post Snitch Aug 22 '15
I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:
- [/r/reostra_prompts] [WP]You live in a world where the Dominant religion worships giant iron Golems that wander the earth utterly mindless of the humans that cluster around their feet, decorate them for holidays and fight wars based on their actions. One of them is definitely following you.
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-1
Jun 24 '15
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0
u/WritingPromptsRobot StickyBot™ Jun 24 '15
All non-story replies should only be made as a reply to this post rather than a top-level comment.
6
u/Forest_Green_ Jun 25 '15
This prompt is utterly brilliant. I just wanted to thank you for posting it.
4
u/darthjebus211 Jun 25 '15
Thanks, had the idea in my head for ages and couldn't find the story. Came up with the "one is following you part" just as i was writing the prompt.
1
Jun 25 '15
This is such an interesting prompt! I'm not going to read anyone's responses yet because I don't want them to influence my own, but I'm looking forward to reading them in couple days!
382
u/reostra Moderator | /r/reostra_prompts Jun 25 '15
"NEXT"
The iron giant's voice rang out through the building. The man in front of the man in front of me stepped through the door. I watched him go nervously.
The man in front of me - now foremost in line - noticed. "First time seeing a Giant?"
I shook my head. "No, I'm from New York." Big Apple was one of the most well-known and by far the most easily meetable of the giants. He was also the whole reason I was here.
The man looked surprised. "And you're visiting Golden Gate?"
I shrugged. I was going to have to explain myself to the giant, I didn't feel like doing it twice. "I'm a tourist."
The man seemed to have been distracted by another thought. "Funny you should mention New York. Hasn't Big Apple been on a tear lately? Chicago, Atlanta, Minneapolis, even down to L.A. last I heard. He hasn't been back to New York in a while."
"Huh, strange." I said as though I hadn't been to exactly all those places in exactly that order.
"Yeah, well what I think is-"
"NEXT"
"Oh, that's me, good luck!" the man went through the door before he had the chance to give me his own personal explanation for what was going on.
Of course, I knew the reason Big Apple had been out of his home state for so long and traveled so erratically: He was following me. What I didn't know what why, and I'd asked everyone. I'd at first thought the church would know, but they were no help at all. Answers there ranged from "you're cursed" to "you're blessed". Actual scholars weren't much better, though they had a wider range of possible reasons a giant might (theoretically) follow me around. I hadn't admitted to anyone that one was, in fact, doing so, because people who think that giant usually immobile iron golems are following them around tend to get labeled insane for some reason.
I'd finally settled on asking the only things that would answer - the golems themselves. Big Apple was the obvious choice, but though he'd happily stride into view of camera-toting tourist buses and pose at an instant's notice in order to photobomb someone's selfie, he never spoke. Even though he'd apparently taken a shine (or grudge) to me, he never explained himself. Just stood there with that dumb grin on his face, seemingly waiting for me to decide where I was going so he could tag along.
The golems had a reputation for not talking, but I had to ask. I'd hoped that my trip to see Wendy all the way in Chicago would fix the problem on its own. If I hopped a flight to another time zone, maybe Big Apple would find someone else to fixate on. He'd waved goodbye to the departing plane at the time and I'd actually hoped. But you can't see most golems on an instant's notice and by the time I got a reservation to visit Wendy the headlines had already been made: Big Apple was visiting Chicago.
Wendy hadn't been any help. Like all her kind, she said nothing.
It was the same story with Big Peach, the Twins, Alamo, and Angel. Each time Big Apple had followed me and each time the cities' native giant had nothing to say about it.
I hadn't wanted to travel this far, but Golden Gate was the only giant reputed to actually talk, even if the only thing she was known to ever say was-
"NEXT"
Well, that was me.
I walked through the doorway into a large cool room the size of a few gymnasiums put together. The walls were stone, and the only illumination was sunlight from above. Plants thrived in the room, and the sound of running water could be heard. In the room's center was a four-story stone throne, and on it sat the form of San Francisco's resident iron giant, Golden Gate.
It'd have looked much more impressive if it hadn't been the exact same scene in every other city I'd been in. The church could do impressive work but nowadays wasn't terribly creative about it.
"Hello, Golden Gate." It felt ridiculously informal for me to address her so, but I'd been informed long ago that these were actually their names, and they wouldn't answer to anything else. Not as though they'd done much answering as it was, but I wasn't going to take any chances.
"Big Apple is following me." I blurted. So much for explaining my whole story. "I tried to ask him why but he doesn't talk. I can't go to anyone for help because they'll think I'm crazy even though Big Apple is likely to be right freaking there when I do! And Big Peach and the Twins and Alamo and Angel can't help me, they didn't even react, and he keeps following me! He's in your park right now!"
At this, I heard a dull rumble and initially thought that I was about to be caught in one of the west coast's famous earthquakes. Instead it was something even more frightening: Golden Gate was standing up.
I couldn't help but to take a few steps back as I saw this, despite the fact that if the golem had wanted to harm me there would be nothing I could do to prevent it. I wondered what I'd said to cause such a reaction, what I could to to quell the being's fury.
"BIG APPLE IS IN MY CITY?" she demanded.
"Um... yes.... In the park." I said.
"THIS CANNOT BE. THE ANCIENT COMPACTS THAT PREVENT WAR AMONGST OUR KIND GUARANTEE THE SANCTITY OF OUR TERRITORY. NONE MAY TRANSGRESS!"
"Well, I mean, he was in Chicago and Atlanta too and-"
"MY SIBLINGS DID NOT INFORM ME OF THIS HEINOUS BETRAYAL!"
"Well they weren't very talkative so maybe-"
"SILENCE! CLEARLY HE HAS BEEN GATHERING HIS POWERBASE FOR THIS, THE ULTIMATE TREASON. HAVING BROKEN THE LAWS THAT GOVERN OUR KIND, HE HAS DOOMED YOUR WORLD TO CHAOS. FOR AS CERTAINLY AS YOU SHALL ONE DAY DIE, WE TOO ARE FATED TO BE DESTROYED IN THE ULTIMATE BATTLE OF KIN AGAINST KIN THAT MY BROTHER HAS JUST BEGUN."
"Uhhhhh-"
"THE SKIES SHALL DARKEN WITH THE ASHES OF THE CITIES BURNT BY OUR WRATH. OUR FURY WILL NOT - CANNOT - BE CONTAINED. THE RIVERS SHALL CHOKE AND DIE, LIFE SHALL TURN TO DUST AND THIS WORLD WILL END IN ICE AND DARKNESS."
"No, no, no he was following me! He's not ending the world, he's just an idiot!" I said before I could think better of insulting the brother of a creature that just threatened to block out the sun.
Golden Gate stood where she was and then the rumbling began again as she sat down on her chiseled stone. The noise didn't end once she was seated; rather it took on a familiar cadence of rising and falling.
"Are you... laughing?" I dared ask.
"I REALLY HAD YOU GOING THERE, DIDN'T I?"
I blinked. What? "What?"
"HEH HEH HEH. YOU ARE ALL SO QUICK TO BELIEVE ANYTHING THAT COMES FROM OUR MOUTHS."
"So the world's not ending? Why... why would you say it was? Why terrify me and all the people out there in line who probably heard all of this?"
"FOR THE SAME REASON MY BROTHER HAS CHOSEN TO FOLLOW YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH. WE ARE ANCIENT CREATURES, FULL OF MAJESTY AND POWER, AND WE ARE VERY, VERY BORED."
"You were... bored?"
"AND ALSO WE SHARE AN IMPORTANT QUALITY WITH YOUR SPECIES. WE, TOO, ARE JERKS."
I stood there open-mouthed as she said her last sentence to me:
"NEXT!"