ORIGIN

New life fluttered from within its chrysalis, a smooth affair streaked with charcoal gold and brown, an infant’s hide away that reflected the blue glow beyond perfectly, lights dancing along its surface. The cave was warm, the air thick, the energy electric. Fractures crept along its surface slowly, the pace leisurely and immeasurable, observed by no one.

And similarly, no one witnessed the crumbling of stone, bleeding it’s fluid from new wounds as a creature tumbled forth, one of similar browns and dark bands. He breathed fresh air for the first time in his life, and then rose to his unsteady limbs, also for the first time. These things came naturally to him, the little survivor he was, and soon he stood on his two legs and two knuckles as if he’d been doing so for cycles before. His small dark eyes blinked, and he gave a testing sniff.

And promptly after, he sneezed. The smells, the strength of them and the sheer number of them, were overwhelming to his new brain. He shook himself, deciding that he thoroughly disliked the feeling. He sniffed again, raising his little head as he did, focusing on one smell in particular.

He turned, and he saw the spire.

It towered above him, glowing brightly, like a monument to all that had ever been. It crackled with energy, with knowledge beyond comprehension. Unaware of much, the little anteater still understood that this awed fascination and fear was not only his own. No matter what lay ahead, what lurked in the shadows and what wandered above, all of them would bow before this tower, this divine object.

It called to him.

Any thinking, feeling, fearing creature would turn tail, run and never come back. The braver of them would admire and theorise from a distance, eyes aflame with the blue glow. But neither would ever touch it. None of them would ever risk it. And to be fair, they’d be perfectly wise in doing so, not every mystery presented was one to be solved. He plodded closer, the spire a blurry blue light in his eyes. He certainly would be different, even in his first minutes walking on cavern ground, his first moments alive. One could not tell what he planned to do. Had his young mind been swept up in the wonder of it all? Did he wish to learn, or at least share in the knowledge and power it held? Did he wish to consume it for his own selfish desires, absorb the magic all for himself? Or was he pulled by a instinct, a visceral urge, just as beyond comprehension as the towering crystals he was slowly approaching?

The crystalline surface crackled and spat, as if reacting to his presence. The hum of energy grew until it deafened him completely, the sheer activeness of the particles surrounding him threatening to tear him apart. Something screamed at him to leave, to turn back while he still could. He couldn’t hear it over the humming.

A tongue split his small lips as he reached the precipice of all existence. It had been designed with the intention to consume insects, little invertebrates that scuttled and skittered in their hideaways, this appendage of his made to ruthlessly snuff them out. But now, it reached for the spire, for something it definitely, definitely shouldn’t. Or should, because maybe this was destiny, and maybe this was what he was created to do. Maybe, just maybe, this was meant to be the Spire’s destiny too.

Contact.

The anteater licked the spire.

@K’cil

Immediately the energy crackled through his tongue, through his whole body, swift and merciless. Maybe he had expected a rush of power, adrenaline, something else. The pearly gates opening, the knowledge of a god. He had reached out all the same, searching for something, and it had not been what he had gotten, or what he expected. What could one expect when fresh out of a crystal womb?

Ascendance, surprisingly, was quite painful.

He weighed very little, but the spire threw him away as if he weighed even less, as if the planet lost its gravity. For a blissful moment, he was without orbit, flying through Polaris as the energy crackled, spat and dispersed. He could taste the tower on his tongue, which luckily still remained. It tasted like everything, like the universe, like a million, billion unknowns, and yet he swore he knew them. A peaceful sense of déjà vu. This place is his home.

And then collision, the second of this interaction, of his small body on the stone floor. This time it was his turn to react, and he scrambled to his feet a frightened, blinded animal. He stumbled about, all that he was thrumming with pain as what barely counted as his conscious mind spun. No true comfort would be found, but his instincts knew the best he could do was find a little alcove, some kind of shelter. His plans, after this groundbreaking experience, consisted entirely of curling up in a little ball and having a nap. He could not conceive of how lucky he was, to still be thinking and feeling as creatures do. And most likely, he never would.

[exit]