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How An Innocent And Pure Golem Left Everyone Crying
Hi everyone.
All Things DnD is back with another story.
This one is a heartbreaker.
Probably one of the most touching DND stories I’ve read.
We’d love to hear about your beautifully sad stories after you listen to this:
I am Golem 6b.
I was denied the right to fight in battle because I was defective.
I am defective because I care more about life than service.
Because of what I am, my maker cannot destroy me.
And I will not destroy myself.
So he sent me away.
I found a clearing in the forests.
With my feet of clay I flattened the land and removed more trees.
I spent time gathering seeds from across the forest for my little square.
Now, I have a garden.
My garden is pretty.
Many flowers grow here now.
This is my world, untouched by the lands outside.
My garden is all I care for.
I have many visitors.
Today a deer came to me.
It lifted its leg and urinated upon me.
This has never happened before.
I hope it doesn’t happen again.
I have noticed my garden is becoming a home for insects and birds.
I can hear the buzzing of bees going about their lives, gathering pollen and helping
my garden grow.
I like these bees.
They help my garden.
There are little birds now.
They hover in the air, eating the nectar from my flowers.
I am glad my garden can help these birds.
They are pretty like my garden.
But the year is ending and winter has come.
The bees are dead.
The birds have gone south.
And my flowers are dead.
I hope the warm comes back.
I liked my garden.
Though I am alone I am not sad.
Golem 6b cannot feel sad.
But I feel something for the bird that could not fly south.
The cold claimed it in my garden.
I returned his body to the ground, so he will become a flower and be as pretty in death
as he was in life.
I would like my garden to return now.
Please.
I feel warm again.
I like the warmth.
It brings the bees and the birds.
And if I look close at the earth I can see my flowers returning.
The biggest one is growing where I put the body of the bird.
I hope he becomes pretty.
Days go by once more and my flowers grow big and strong.
Like me.
The weather can be harsh and strong winds knock down the great trees around my garden.
But they never knock down my flowers.
My flowers are strong.
There are more bees this year; they have made a home in a tree next to my garden.
I can hear them.
It is the sound of life and it makes me… hmmm…
Yes.
It makes me happy.
There is something new in my garden.
A small child.
She is walking around my flowers.
She takes great care not to crush my flowers.
I like girl.
She likes my garden.
She sees me.
She doesn’t run or scream.
Only asks if I made garden.
So I nod my head.
She says it’s nice.
I smile.
Girl asks me how long I’ve been here.
I point to a tree where I carve the coming of each winter.
There’s 500 notches in the tree.
I know that I will be here for many more.
Perhaps for all winters.
As long as I have my garden, that sounds nice.
The girl asks me if she can take a flower to make her own garden.
I pick a flower and hand it to her.
It still has plenty of soil stuck to its roots.
The flower will start a good garden.
The girl smiles and laughs, then thanks me for the flower.
I nod.
I feel the cold coming.
I do not like the cold.
The cold takes my flowers, and my bees, and it will take the girl.
But if it doesn’t, the garden becomes crowded and no flower can grow fully.
Winter is here once more.
Snow covers the garden, taking my flowers from me again.
I cannot hear the bees or the birds.
But I can hear her.
She stands there in front of me.
Her face is red like my roses.
This makes me happy.
Reminds me of my garden.
She stands in the middle of my empty garden and digs a hole.
She puts a flower in the frozen earth.
I do not know why.
The cold will take it from me.
She must see my confusion.
“It’s an evergrow,” she says.
“It grows all year round.”
I think this means the cold will not take my new flower.
She laughs and pats my leg.
She tells me she’ll be back in the spring, when my garden is back.
I like my garden.
The warmth is back and so is my garden.
So are my bees and my birds.
They like my garden.
It feeds them and keeps them alive, like I keep it.
I like helping the bees and birds.
The girl comes back and she has a friend.
The girl shows her friend my garden.
Her friend sounds impressed.
This makes me happy.
Garden should make others happy.
And the garden does just that.
The girl shows her around, then finally she shows her to me.
“Wow, that rock is pretty life-like,” she says.
I look up from my evergrow plant at the new girl.
She screams.
It scares my birds.
I put a finger to my mouth to gesture silence.
She screams louder and runs.
I do not think she liked my garden.
I do not mind.
Garden is not for everyone.
But one night the other girl comes back.
And has more people with her.
They must not be able to see in the dark like Golem 6b.
They have torches of fire.
I hope they’re mindful of my garden.
The girl points at me.
I smile.
I hear gasps and some shouts of “Monster!”
I do not like monsters; they do not care for my garden.
One comes over to remove a dent in my leg with his hammer.
I thank him for thinking of me with a flower.
He swats my hand away.
He must want the flower to stay in the garden.
He is a nice man.
One of them throws his fire at me.
I do not need warm, so I hand it back.
He drops it in my garden.
They run as my garden burns.
I have sat here so long I have become stuck in the ground.
I watch as my garden burns to ash.
But I protect my evergrow.
Day comes once more.
The garden is nothing but ash.
Bees were killed by smoke, birds are scared away.
This makes me unhappy.
Wind comes and blows the ash aaway.
I see the damage the fire did.
All of my flowers are gone but the evergrow.
I think I would like to cry.
But I have no eyes or tear wells.
It doesn’t matter then.
I wait for a while.
Then I see them.
New flowers.
I understand.
These flowers needed the fire to grow; they needed warmth that a normal day can’t provide
to start life.
That makes me happy; soon my garden will be back.
And a new garden won't disappear with fire, only grow more.
The girl is back, but not with her friend.
Her eyes seem to be leaking.
Is she watering the new flowers?
That is nice.
She wraps her arms around my leg and begins shaking.
I move her away and show her the new garden and the evergrow.
She stops watering my garden.
I know that soon my garden will be back to its former size, and it will bring the bees
and the birds back.
Years go by.
The garden grows and so does the girl.
I watch from my earthy seat as she gets taller, like flowers.
Then one year she stops growing.
And then the next year she has a small girl with her.
The smallest girl crawls over to me, but doesn’t crawl on my flowers.
I like the smallest girl.
Small girl picks up the smallest girl and points at me, then to my garden, and tells
her I grew all the garden.
This isn’t really true.
I planted the first garden 537 winters ago.
The garden has grown because of bees but it doesn’t matter.
Bees don't mind being forgotten so long as they have pollen and honey and garden.
My evergrow has grown through me now, the small tree has wrapped around my leg and is
moving up my back.
I like being a support for the garden, it means I can help it more.
I reach down and pluck a flower for the smallest girl.
She giggles, smells it and smiles back at me.
Smallest girl likes the garden.
I like the garden.
I like the smallest girl.
More winters.
More summers.
Each better than the last with more bees and flowers growing and coming.
First girl’s hair is now grey and white, like my winter roses.
Her child looks like the first girl from many years ago, and her child.
The first girl, second girl and third girl sit between my legs to shield themselves from
the rain.
They tell stories and eat little things.
They give some to the birds.
That’s nice.
I smile.
They smile back.
It rains.
Rain is good for the garden but bad for the first girl.
I lock my stone fingers above them and cover their heads from the rain.
I help.
Three more years go by.
First girl isn’t here.
Only the second and third with a wooden box carried by men.
Where is the first girl?
I like the first girl.
She liked the garden and gave me evergrow.
I like evergrow.
I think the cold came for the girl.
This thought… hurts.
That is the word.
This thought hurt golem 6b.
Golem 6b doesn’t want the cold to take a girl.
Girl is friend.
But I know that she would alway go, one day.
I know what the wooden box is now.
I nod at the people.
I lean down and scrape my fingers through the earth and take the box.
I place the box into the earth between my feet.
I gently cover the box.
Girl is now with garden.
She will one day be a flower.
This makes me happy.
But I do not let her be lost to earth like many animals before.
She is worth more to Golem 6b.
I lift a stone slab and place it in soft, displaced earth.
I carve “GURL” into it.
It is good.
It doesn’t make Golem 6b happy but it makes girl happy.
People leave Golem 6b and girl.
I plant flowers on her grave.
Girl lives again in the garden.
Golem never alone again.
Golem waits and watches her grow.
Golem happy.
I’m not crying… it's just raining on my face.
Such a bittersweet ending for Golem 6b.
Truly a wonderful story.
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