Jiva (Soul) - Younger Days
An envelope embossed with a wax seal states:
Do Not Open Until My Departure
Blue, clawed fingers break through the wax barrier and uncover the contents inside. A folded page resembling paper (though likely made out of a cotton and linen mixture) sits neatly inside. When pressed flat, the page reads:
My Dearest Jiva,
These past few months I’ve found myself reflecting on my life. The choices I’ve made, the people I’ve met, the lessons I’ve learned… It truly is remarkable how much one can experience if they let their soul blossom.
I still recall finding your egg. I was out in the Linguan wilderness on a solo backpacking trip, crossing the continent under my own power in search for a greater meaning in life. I was barely an adult myself, but I was sick of the haze that covered the cities, the skyscrapers that dominated the horizon, and, worst of all, the artificial trees with their unnatural lights. Everything in this world was so disgustingly manufactured and I desperately needed to connect with nature.
It wasn’t easy. I wasn’t at all prepared to live on my own, to depend on nothing but the land itself. I was dirty and hungry and the nights were very cold. But then I found you. An egg, white and iridescent, all alone by the stream. Such a simple shape, yet filled with so much potential. A budding soul, waiting to emerge and learn and grow. It was a miracle your egg wasn’t found by some sort of predatory beast first. I thought Paralogos eggs were a myth, but your arrival opened my eyes to the truth.
I don’t remember your hatching. One moment you were an egg, and the next you were the most wonderful little dinosaur. Your complexion was yellow, if you remember, and not at all like the blue hues that paint your hide now. And you glowed, but your light was beautiful. Nothing like the fake fauna humans cooked up to compensate for their greed. You didn’t have your flowing sail back then, but your tail was still long enough that you’d use it as a pillow when you slept. I always found that very endearing.
Together, we rediscovered our ancestors' roots. We rejected the values of consumerism and embraced the natural resources of this planet. We learned to nourish our spirits through meditation and introspection. We sought the truths of the universe and in ourselves. You grew taller, stronger, wiser. I have never seen a creature so beautiful and pure.
I hope you continue this journey towards enlightenment, for I cannot guide you any longer. By the time you read this, my soul will have freed itself from this withered body and began a new journey into the cosmic unknown. Know that I am not dead, but transitioned to a new state of being, a new plane of existence.
I am so proud of you, my dearest Jiva. Although I nurtured you from a tiny hatchling to a fully grown Paralogos, I feel you have taught me as much as I have taught you, perhaps more so. You are truly special.
Please do not mourn for me. You will be alright. Our souls will meet again.
Yours,
Trinity
Jiva neatly folds the letter page back into its envelope and sets it down on the bedside table. The Paralogos sits in a quiet hospital room, the medical equipment that once hummed softly now eerily silent. Faint voices drift from the hallway, but the nurses give the dinosaur space and time to grieve for their caretaker.
It says nothing as it watches the woman it bonded with. Years of memories flicker through its mind, with those of extensive treatments and healing sessions at the forefront. But in the end, the illness won.
The blue Paralogos stands from its cushioned seat and arches its back. The blue hues of its hide swirl and sparkle like galaxies as its form starts to change. Its back bulges and splits as two elegant, feather-like wings, the tips dipped in gold, take shape. It slowly tests its control over its new appendages and flaps them a few times. Its striking eyes, with scleras giving the impossible illusion of transparency, shift to its hands, now bathed in a bright light. The luminescence solidifies into the form of a golden lantern.
It places the lantern on the bed and opens the little door. Placing a hand above its caretaker’s chest, it closes its digits together in a grabbing motion and pulls upward. The human’s body faintly glows, then fades as a flame of light rises out of her form, just beneath Jiva’s claw tips. The Paralogos guides the flame into the lantern, then closes the door and locks the latch. It holds the lantern close to its chest as it hums to itself.
“You are never leaving me.”
Jiva (Soul) - Younger Days
How Jiva became the Wicked it is today (with reminiscence of its tabula rasa form).
Hehe oopsie this Paralogos just got a little scary :)
Submitted By kazulthedragon
for Wisdom Tasks
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Submitted: 5 months ago ・
Last Updated: 3 months ago
Oboe
PLEASE write more ominous stuff; I can hear the sting chord playing in my head over that last line omgggg
2024-07-04 13:45:03
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