There exists a peculiar custom among golems. When they are young, only a hundred or so years old, a golem will find a fist-sized stone and carve into it a simple shape. They will then travel hundreds or even thousands of miles to find a place to leave it. This location is often isolated, far from the influence of any civilization, in the heartwood of the forest or deep within the plains. They will not bury it, or attempt to conceal it in any way. The stone is merely left to rest upon the earth, and the golem will begin the long walk home.
Once every hundred years, the golem will return. It will be larger, and older by then. The landscape will be different. The terrain unfamiliar. The golem will find their stone, obscured by moss, buried by leaf litter, or hidden along the tall grass. For several minutes they will hold the stone in their hands, kneeling on the forest floor. They will then return the stone to where it sits, and leave once more. They will do this for as long as they live.
There are several theories as to what this ritual might be. Their only possession left unguarded, continents away, seen for just a few moments each century. Decades spent not knowing if it has been stolen, or destroyed. We cannot pretend to understand the silicate psyches of stone men, mute and ancient, but some think this may be their equivalent to religion. A deeply personal act of devotion, a pilgrimage to a self-made shrine. A singular constant in a world that changes at a pace dizzying to their geological minds.
One can only hope it brings them comfort. Some things are too simple and precious to be changed.