In all instances it was the same however.
One was born. One was raised. One worked, paid their taxes and inevitably died.
Now arguably, the Galdori would at this pipe up with something about their purpose in the universe was to guide their so called lesser. Or keep them suppressed depending on who you asked. It was masqueraded behind them receiving some higher order, their various deities of the world demanding such. Or something like that, Gale was not sure or really cared for the exact details. But the question then therefore was for what purpose?
If the gods did exist, then why did they require gift them – what was part of their grand design, their goals and futures. Better yet, what was their intention for humans? Were they merely to become beasts of burden beneath the thumb of others?
The smith groaned, thumb and forefinger pinching their brow. The alcohol was far from helping their thoughts from forming into anything coherent. The orbs lifted from the tumbler, the strong whiskey permeating up through their senses. It burned through their body, numbing warmth slowly sinking in. Around the wintery humdrum of the Toy Lantern. They were not exactly sure on how they ended up here and currently they did not care either. It was warm and the drink was cheap.
“But seriously, what’s the point in it all?” their elbow was propped against the bar, the better arm swirling the drink around, “How do we know? We don’t. Like, what if they don’t exist? And everythin’s a lie to comfort us all. What then? What’s the point in it all? Aren’t we then little more than mere accidents of existence? Blips that will inevitably fade out and disappear? What’s the point in the entirety of it all? We all just die.”
The barkeep was silent – seemingly ignoring them. Drink knocked back, the smith breathed, “Another.”
It was filled, brown liquid glinting in the candle light. Somewhere behind another performance was going on. They were not paying attention to what exactly.
“What we supposed to do with our existence if in the end it means nothin’?” they inspected the liquid, finger running around it, “Doesn’t it make everythin’ we do pointless, invalid? ‘Cause we’re all just a bunch of meat sacks with some sentience and therefore think we’ve got some right to run things? All meaningless really, life and all the partakin’ in it all.”
The thoughts did not help when they were stuck on a loop themselves. Constantly stuck on the ‘why?’ and preventing any real forward progress.
A sip, they could feel their cheeks beginning to grow flush. Thoughts lurched one way then the next, before settling, “We just fight ‘cause we can, do what we want, stab and kill and work. Yet we all just end up alone in the end. Born alone, die alone. Seems kind of crappy of ‘em Gods if it’s gonna be like that. Making us all chase our vices for a quick fix, a way to make ourselves feel good.”