With the topic of Aven’s golem and the increasing need for arrows, his family was kept at the workyard until late in the evening. His mother left a few hours prior to start dinner while he and his father continued to field questions about his creation as they continued to knab and sharpen stones. At one point, his golem ran out of limbs to work into arrow shafts and so Aven ordered it to try working on arrowheads again.


    The other workers were initially intrigued, taking a break to observe the new and more adaptable golem, but were quickly disappointed as the golem shattered one rock after the other. Aven tried to explain that his construct took time to learn, but few were interested or free enough to stick around. His father remained silent throughout the whole affair, simply looking away when the golem failed to produce results and busying himself with sharpening a particularly deadly flint arrowhead. Aven knew he wouldn’t respond, and so didn’t even try as he ordered the golem to practice with the discarded pieces from their own work and finished his share.


    The trio headed home, his father at least calling out to him beforehand and not leaving by himself, and were treated to a warm and filling dinner by his mother. There was little conversation around the dinner table, though that was nothing Aven was not used to, and as soon as he was free he headed to his room.


    Underneath a winter blanket, Aven couldn’t help but think back to the way his father reacted to his golem’s failure. “No reaction is better than disappointment,” he muttered as she turned to lay on his side, but even he knew that wasn’t true. He wasn’t sure what he expected when his mother and father had changed from constantly being disappointed in him to showering him with praise, but today had cemented one fact in his mind.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    “It’s not going to last forever.” Aven whisper wasn’t directed to anyone in particular, but it did conjure that image of his golem which naturally led to his dream. Sooner or later, he was going to be forced to dispose of his creation; and with it, not only would he lose the closest thing he had to a friend, but also the last of the goodwill his parents had towards him.


    With that thought, he took in his golem. It usually took up guard in a corner of his room, silently watching over him until it was ordered otherwise. Tonight was no different, as even without the light of a lantern, the gleam of its gem peered at him through the darkness. What once had been a pure blue light, characteristic of raw mana, there were now flecks of purple and streaks of red occasionally moving throughout.


    Aven could tell little of his golem on most days, but as he continued his ill-fated staring contest with the magical construct, he thought he could see… something. A gesture in the random pattern, where a loop of red formed an iris and a splash of dots made an eyebrow that looked like it was sad. Eager for a solution to its eventual destruction, or simply a want for something more.


    But just as soon as it came, it left. The kaleidoscope of reds and purples melted back into the characteristic blue of a functioning golem, and Aven was left wondering if he was somehow sleep-deprived. As he fell back into bed with more confused than when had started, it at least affirmed one decision he would be making. Master Fernon had urged him towards avoidance, to make sure his golem maintained the mostly normal reputation it had. But if he would have to lose a friend one way or the other, then he would rather try whatever he could than regret letting the chance slip.