vtipoman

Pick Up The Pieces

“Move the left hand section to processing zone two. Yes, all of it!“

Foreman Joshua of Fairgales was standing in the middle of a worksite. All around him, dozens of workers were bustling around, chipping away at their assigned tasks in small groups. While many were new and prone to making mistakes, it was easy to see everyone putting in genuine effort, cultivating in an air of purpose, urgency and general comradery.

Overlooking it all from his elevated position, it was up to Joshua to oversee and direct the work.

“What? He’s still busy? Leon, help them out, will you?!”

As his colleague hurried to do a task too delicate for regular laborers to handle, Joshua kept watching the dissasembly. While it was neither day nor night, everything seemed perfectly visible to him. He paused – it still was hard to believe the piles of oft semi-abstract material, the largest piece of which he himself was standing upon, were once one of their gods.

But as he knew perfectly well, that was one of the main things keeping everyone toget-

“Hands off the fucking thing!"

The site froze. It quickly became clear who Joshua yelled at – one of the fresh recruits, left clutching the outer edge of a structurally critical joint. The foreman calmed down a bit, but spent the next few minutes rigorously explaining what could had gone down.

" … Look, it's fine. I know they don't give you much training. But ask someone before you start pulling next time.”

With the meltdown averted, some of the senior workers started joking at the newcomer's expense, though one set forth to offer him her own advice. The mood quickly returned to normal, and soon, everyone was back to what they were doing previously.
Seeing it unfold firsthand, Joshua smiled to himself. It was only a few years ago his workers would be at each others’ throats over tribal feuds and superficial differences. Now they were all working together as one.

“What..? No, we don’t know yet. The clerics are busy up north.”

Joshua crossed his arms, and having earned enough experience over the years to be able to let them do so, he let his idle thoughts continue to drift deeper into the past.

"Hm..? Alright, could you go help team four? Thanks."

It started about five years ago. The tribes’ endless travels and conflicts were calmed by a series of bad omens, seen without fail all across the world. Then, just as the uneasiness started to dissipate, each tribe's elders fell ill. One after the other, they spoke of a war among the gods.

“You think she’ll be able to learn it? Her group won't fall behind, right? Sure, go ahead then. We always need more skilled folks.”

That’s how the first of their deities turned into a mount of metals, crystals, squares and flesh, impacting the earth at pulverizing speeds. When the dust settled, it was prime loot, of course. No-one heeded their elders, and fighting resumed.

"Hey, wrong pile! The marrow goes over there!"

But, as the tribes warred over the fresh relics and unleashed their power on one another, the falls started growing larger and more frequent. It was no longer just the god of hares or that of the morning rains either, it was the goddess of the forge and god of bread. And even more worryingly, with each of their deaths, the things they represented ceased to exist.

“Lunch crew, how are things looking?!”

The news that finally ended it all was delivered by a small child, a newfound clairvoyant prodigy. The gods, in their own violence and arrogance, seemed to had awakened – or attracted – something much, much worse. And just as she had predicted, the goddess of day smashed into the surface a few days later. That was enough to stop the tribes’ warring for good.


“Hm..? Yeah, I do sometimes think about that. Though I don't see much point in worrying about it. If the night god is dead as well, there should be no darkness either, right? And stop taking from the coffee supply, Jen.”

Lunch was over, and the day’s work was proceeding smoothly. Jennah dissapeared from his sight for a bit, but was soon back with a second battered mug filled with the hot drink, this time for Joshua himself. He sighed, took it, leaned against a protruding piece of salvage, and took a sip.

“Man, I’m glad the god of coffee hasn’t kicked it yet,” his friend proclaimed.

“Mhm.”

"Wonder how the fucker keeps dodging it. So much other good stuff is gone."

"Luck, probably? Or maybe we all worship coffee enough."

"More so than dreams? Oceans? Family?"

They stood in silence for a few minutes.

“… Josh, you think we’ll get it done on time?”

“I don't suppose you mean this shift..?”

“No. I mean all of it.”

“No idea.”

Another pause followed. Joshua ended it after a long sip.

“I do think it’s worth trying our best, though.”

“Fuck me, you’ve always been the guy to think that. Even back then, as much as you could, you went on and on about peace and shit. Even though it clearly wasn't possible.”

“Hey, I just think we’ll be able to do the most that way. And hope is better than hopelessness, right?”

Jennah looked at him, something having clicked in her mind.

“You… are enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“The peace.”

“Well… maybe. Though I would prefer it without the world coming apart.”

They slowly emptied their mugs, Joshua keeping an eye on the work, occasionally shouting more directions or advice.

“You think they’ve found someone already, big man?”

“Last rumor I’ve heard, they were considering the little girl.”

“What, the all-seeing one? Isn’t she like, seven?”

“Yep. I too think they’ll pick someone older.”

“Would make sense. I’d be kinda worried for a seven year old to be the one to do it.”

“Too little combat experience?”

“Too much fun to be had with the new toys afterwards. Were you ever seven?”

He laughed at that. They knew each other from childhood, and she wasn’t exactly wrong.

As Jennah’s apprentices came forward from the crowd to sheepishly ask for their master back, he handed her the mug, slapped his hands together, and started focusing fully on his work again. There was about to be a barrage of questions and requests coming his way, for even if everyone on the site tried to respect their break time, work had to go on, and concerns always piled up.


It was now evening – at least according to the few watches on site – and most of the work had died down. The carcass laid dissasembled, processed, sorted, labeled and readied for shipping, with the main body of workers in the distance by a large fire pit. Joshua no longer had his elevated position to stand on, nor much more to oversee, so he was absentmindedly helping with the remaining assorted tasks – confirming counts, finalizing seals, picking up forgotten equipment, and so on.

As his tired mind snapped back to reality, he found himself standing in front of a large bundle of glass veins. Silence confirmed to him he was the last one left in the field of salvaged parts, as always. He quickly found the bundle's ropes too loose, hooked them into a strapping tool and starting pushing at the lever. As the veins shook about, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in one of the glassy pieces. It looked healthier than he remembered. He smiled bitterly, and with the bindings secured, set towards the others.

In the middle of the barren space separating the two areas, Joshua stopped. As he had always done, he wanted to take one last somber look at another of his people's gods, soon to be shipped to different locations and never seen all together again. As he kept staring at the stark remains, his mind and heart quietly moved to the use intended for them, and the tender hope it offered. Not everyone had a picture as full as him – he had been afforded it for his service.

The plan was to gather all the salvage the tribes could in whatever time they had left, and turn one of their own into a new god. A champion tasked with defeating the awakened evil. A human empowered to fight on the behalf of the fears and hopes of their kin – all of their kin.

The last thought filled Joshua with gentle determination.

No one was actually sure whether what they could make would be powerful enough. The unspoken truth was, besides the time constraint, it was all going to come down to the element of surprise, the new deity’s innate control over all of their combined elements, and just how well they would synergize with each other. In any case, it was going to be a world-shaking battle. The final struggle at the end of times, or a creation myth for a new age.

But while he certainly hurt and cared and fought and even wished, Joshua didn’t worry, not as much as the others. Despite everything, he thought the peace and cooperation a wonderful blessing, one he would not mind having on his mind as he died. And besides, his job wasn’t to save the world.

It was to pick up the pieces.


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