Patience and diligence are crucial for any long-term project. You cannot rush the journey to completion, but learn to cherish and enjoy the process instead.
Every waking moment is an opportunity – a chance to create new memories, to overwrite the old. One day, I will leave my days of being in Vonplex's shadow behind me and become someone of my choosing – myself.
Redefining the soul who bears the name, V-syvious. I smile at the prospect. My time spent here with Ira has certainly rubbed off on me. Each floor of this multistory facility is identical. The corridors are long and wide, with high ceilings. Walls are a balanced blend of aureate and magenta, decorated with large geometrical diagrams symbolizing a nine-pointed star - the emblem of his subconscious. They have minimal variance, and it is easy to get lost if you do not know how to navigate these corridors properly.
If I ever do leave this place, I highly doubt that I'll miss the consistent and unchanging colours of his passionate spirit. The other beings that work and live here inside this facility are known as the Eckrhyne; Ira's seeded race. They are an interdimensional species born from him. They have inherited a wide pool of traits, such as well as the talent for manipulating reality, to a small degree. Their eye colour ranges from sable to rich maroon. Ira is the only one here with a visible pupil, let alone a golden one. Their skin pigmentation varies from brown to orange, grey, green, and cyan. The older generations have a mouthpiece, consisting of moving strips of flesh and muscle with small, fine teeth; however, the mandibles have evolved into a beak in the more recent younger generations. As a species, their overall stature is slender and tall, whereas Ira is petite. Eckrhynes are well-versed in the sciences and philosophy. They are scholars, scientists, teachers, and healers. They have the same love for knowledge as their founder. Keeping their ancestry alive.
Many have kept their distance from me during my stay. There were a few who went out of their way to greet me. They are quiet and polite. Intelligent.
I head down to the ground floor and pass through the grand open archway into the gardens. I often come here to escape from the monotonous design of the interior. There are occasions when I do enjoy gazing at the permanent eclipse, as the very sight of it pulls me towards it. I find it strangely calming and comforting. The view of a black sphere in a golden vastness is certainly astonishing – one which invokes a sense of wonderment and an unfounded wistfulness. Then I catch sudden murmurs from beyond the flowering trees in full bloom and the surrounding flourishing shrubbery.
I hear the voice again. It wasn't inside my head. It came from an outside source, and I could hear it through my primary physical senses. I've noticed Ira's side of the telepathic channel is uncharacteristically quiet today. He's usually a talkative and an excitable soul who is hard to quiet down whenever he boasts about his universal collection, or when he discovers something new – or is distracted by me.
Now, he has excluded me from our communication line for some peculiar reason. Then the chuntering escalates into an intense one-sided bickering. I stalk towards the swaying trees and peer through the rustling leaves to see a stranger talking at Ira. Slim. Bipedal. The alien is fairly tall – a metre or so over the founder. Their facial features differ greatly in comparison to mine and Ira's. The stranger's irises each held a different colour – a touch of heterochromia. The right eye is an impenetrable black, and the left is a piercing, light-greyish blue. Fine, thick black hair drapes from their crown at shoulder length, complemented by strands of auburn, as well as a crest of flaming red feathers.
The alien is wearing a pale beige silk robe. It hangs loosely from his shoulders and cuts above his ankles, covering their bronze skin dappled in white. Their feet are fitted with flaxen lace and a thin, elongated strip molded perfectly underneath the heel. They are armed with neatly cut and clean talons on the toes, as well as the fingers. There are minor similarities that are few and far between.
Depicted on the back of his robe is an emblem of a crimson-feathered beast, which closely resembles Goriagoth. Then a picturesque and detailed vision flashes into my mind. Ignited eyes of rage and passion; they are the eyes of judgment itself. Vengeance. The individual has a long auburn mane, smooth and hairless on one side of the scalp. His crown is adorned with lengthy feathers of blue, red, and gold, bearing the same similarities as the stranger who is speaking to the Eckrhyne progenitor from afar.
The unnamed individual painted in my mind's eye is wearing a black silk robe, differentiating from the stranger's. Worn in a relaxed fashion. Partially unfastened and drooping around the neck, exposing their bronze chest. I feel as though I've seen him before, but where? When? Who is he? Then the vision fades. It relinquishes itself into my intrapersonal limbo and vanishes. Therein, afterwards, what replaces the daydream is the one–sided bickering between Ira and the new arrival. They are too engrossed and concentrated on one another to notice my presence.
Then the stranger smirks.
"If what you say is indeed true and he has nothing to prove, then I don't see why he cannot agree to my proposal."
Ira doesn't avert his hateful leer and steps forward to shorten the distance between them – making their height difference more obvious. The newcomer raises his chin, exuding an air of patronisation and self-imposed dignity, prolonging his sly expression.
"Why don't we ask him ourselves?" The outsider shifts his focus and greets me with a sly side glance. Purporting a charming smile. Ira frowns and orients the direction of his hardened glare. The mental obstruction blocking our communication line dismantles itself. It absolves, and becomes clear again as soon as he notices me - compensating me with relief. Then his concentration snaps back to the newcomer.
"Leave." He hisses. Splaying his mandibles.
"I'll depart from this obscene place once I have been given an answer – his answer." Developing a serious undertone as he presses further.
Ira grabs his wrist."You will leave my domain at once."
"Not until I..."
"A collaboration will improve nothing!" Jagged golden lines branch out from the founder's seething aureate pupil and spread across his dark brown cornea, exuviating grain-sized prana motes, covering the shrunken yet malformed scar.
"They say Hunnis weep molten tears of fire. I would love to personally attest for myself to see if the rumour is fictitious or not. Perhaps I should bestow Madonis the chance to mourn his only son? And know the true pain of grievance. I should have expected that your predecessor is too much of a coward to visit me and sends his snivelling offspring instead. A weak simpleton who is not worth my time, and yet still has the sheer audacity to pester me with an egocentric proposal, which has no doubt been devised by your father." Granular motes begin to eat away at the Hunni's robe – starving for the taste of the anatomical combination of flesh and spirit covered underneath.
"A fatal mistake!"
Indecisiveness divides my spirit. If I choose to stand back and not intervene, this could very well be my only chance to witness the total erasure of a soul; then again, on the other hand, I am curious to learn what his proposal may entail. Is it truly cowardice and a severe lack of respect towards the Eckrhyne ancestor the reason why Madonis never came? No. That would be too simple an explanation for him not to come. It is so much more than that, from what memory serves. Perhaps sending his only offspring here to this immaterial domain is a test to see how Ira would react? Would he welcome change if the choice were offered to him? Whether Madonis's son is shown mercy or not, Ira's decision will answer his proposal.
The Hunni scowls and winces as the prana eats away at the fabric of his clothing, aggressing upon his skin. His facial lines crease further as his expression twists, and he tries to wrench his wrist free from the ancestor's barbed grip. His efforts are futile and in vain. His show of weakness is laughable, and the possibility of his position ending with his erasure is high. And it serves him right.
Only a founder can rival another founder.
"You are more self-centred than I thought." He mocks.
"I came here to offer peace, but it has become clear to me that you are either too unwilling to accept change or too keen to escalate tensions between our species and instigate an intergalactic war." He accuses and laughs.
"Do not flatter yourself, Hunni. The price of genocide is astronomically beyond what you are worth."
The founder's son mutters bitterly under the growl of his breath.
"If not you, then will you at least listen to my proposition?" He beseeches me through his clenched teeth. I am interested to know what he has to say due to the ambiguity of this strange situation; however, if his proposition does not pique my intrigue further or offer any benefit, then I shall leave him to his well-deserved fate. His erasure might even be worth witnessing after all, but I will listen to his request first.
I brush past the abundant leaves and step out into the clearing. Advancing towards the Eckrhyne ancestor. He watches as I approach him.
"Ira." I softly call him by his name and touch his arm. Tempering his expression of displeasure. Making him relax. He sighs and shakes his head in a jest of defeat. His prana discontinues its voracious consumption. I meet the Hunni's pained gaze.
"Go on," I tell him. "I want to hear about this proposal."
The one you are so clearly insistent on.
The disgruntled Hunni recollects himself – absolving his glare and tight expression. Restoring it to neutrality.
"I want to give both Hunni and Eckrhyne kind the chance to demonstrate a peaceful coexistence, providing a productive example for future generations to look back on. And what better way to achieve that than to create a common ground for us all."
Is finding common ground possible? Realistic even? No. It isn't.
The damage and strife Ira has caused between the two races is irreversible. The generational trauma has already been dealt. Although Vonplex had his reasons, he didn't help their relations either. In fact, he made it worse. Even if the founder's son does manage to scrape together what commonalities he can find, I still wouldn't hold my breath. The wounds are too deep. Their souls are too unforgiving to release a grudge.
This Hunni is either not grounded in reality and an idiot, or there is an underlying aim hidden beneath this disguise of a seemingly benign offer. So far, I only know the bare minimum about the Hunni race. General information. They are a species of aves. Their founder is the personification of divine fire itself and judgment.
It could be worthwhile and valuable to try to gain some more insight into them.
Personally.
"As the resurrected vessel of Vonplex, and myself, who is the son of Madonis, I want us to prove to one another that our ties to those who came before us will not taint our future – for we are so much more than just our biology."
He wants to build a new beginning -with me? I will admit, his proposition does sound appealing and highly favourable, especially in retrospect to my personal circumstances decided by external forces without my consent.
I have neither control nor power over my own life, and I'm solely dependent on Ira. I wouldn't be surprised if this Hunni has already been informed of my situation.
So, what else is he after?
I will never ascertain his real intent, unless I take a risk. If I accept his offer, I could wipe the slate clean and rid myself of my own stigma. Finally, sundering all ties and associations to my third reincarnation, so that I am no longer a living embodiment of his orchestrated past.
His proposition could also serve as a prime opening for unmasking his true motive, and learn more about this Madonis. I need to try and fill in the blank spaces in my memories – or his.
Someday, I shall become my own entity.
Become me.
Ira gives me a knowing look, and he says, "Five minutes – and not a second more."
He hops back, and his form melts into the surrounding ambient immensity of his spirit.
"Oh, I almost forgot to clarify – your conversational time is precisely four minutes. Your remaining one minute is the duration you have left to leave my premises before I ingest your soul." He threatens with a final note of caution, using his disembodied voice.
We take a casual detour, walking among the long drooping blades of tall grass and lush moss flourishing along the riverbank. Peculiar insects with four translucent wings hover soundlessly over the glistening astral river. Their limbless and thin extended abdomens radiate pure light. I have seen these species of plantation and arthropods before. These are replications of life's creation, inspired by the samples stored in Ira's personal universal archives, which are all profiled and categorized immaculately.
"Why are Eckrhyne and Hunni relations so poor?" I asked the Hunni, I want to hear his answer – his version of events.
"Many believe it is due to a clash of headstrong personalities and prerogatives. That is nothing more than a fable – a blatant lie; a rotten excuse used to escape blame. The real reason as to why tensions are so dangerously high and pushing all of us to the brink of a stellar war – is you."
I stop, as he continues walking ahead. He is lying to me. Why?
"If I am truly the root of our universal plight, then why bother with this proposal? Why not end me here and now?"
He stands still and then slowly turns around to regard me.
"Outright murder is not the solution, but not excluded either."
"So – this offer is an ultimatum to my extermination?"
"That is correct."
Another implication of my past, thanks to the courtesy of my future incarnation, or by the command of a vengeful clade, rears its head again. Paying off my karmic debt almost seems impossible. Inescapable.
"We need to be certain you can be trusted implicitly, so that history does not repeat itself." My range of choice is little to none. Live or perish.
"In our celestial future, I hope that universal peace and balance will one day be restored."
Lies.
My memories of Sillhaine came easily to me in my dreams, and yet I've barely received anything at all in relation to Madonis, even though my future self had a relationship with him.
"What was the nature of the relationship between Vonplex and your father?"
"Our founder doesn't discuss his personal affairs so openly, and speaks very little of him in private. Eons ago, he considered Vonplex as his true counterpart and the only soul who could ever understand him. Apparently, my father felt as though he belonged with him, which I find baffling and utterly incomprehensible even to this very day."
"I never asked for your opinion." I countered.
"My apologies – but it is my firm belief that laying down a foundation of honesty and trust is essential before starting any collaboration, if you decide to agree to my proposal that is."
"What does your collaboration entail exactly?"
"The unification of our genome."
"Excuse me?"
"I am simply offering you the chance to become a founder."
"I have no such desire for that title."
He chuckles, "Neither did Vonplex apparently."
I am perfectly aware of the Mal's distaste for the title, and he would have gladly stood against any conformism through his unarguably unorthodox methods – but to sire a new species from our DNA is another matter. To have such a responsibility when I can barely get to grips with myself. I have no right to become a role model.
"I want them to be nothing like me."
"Would you prefer it if my DNA were the dominant genome?"
I ponder for a second or two. Dwelling on those thoughts.
I shouldn't be a founder.
"Yes."
"Then what about societal and cultural development? Scruples? Values? Discipline?"
"I'm not an example others should live by - nor do I have any desire to become a parental figure. I would rather they not know of me at all."
"The purpose of this collaboration is to set an example for all. Do you wish for more time to contemplate it thoroughly?"
If I agree to his proposition here and now, I'll be going against the Mal's principles. Going against what he would have wanted.
Something he despises.
"No. These are my terms and conditions. Take it – or leave."
"Very well. I shall accept your terms and relay the news to my father. Then schedule an appointment to discuss things in greater detail and make preparations. If we are proven successful in our collaboration, we can start to look forward to a new future; however, if we fail, my father will act accordingly and come for you personally."
"You have one minute left. I suggest you depart quickly from this place. Ira is not going to count down for you, nor will he warn you before he effaces your being."
"Thank you for the kind reminder." He minds his tongue and exhibits courtesy instead. Keeping it intact. Then a ferocious, triumphant roar reverberates prior to the arrival of an infernal portal as it burns into the intrapersonal dimension, shedding cinders and producing dark billows of smoke behind the Hunni.
A broad, scaled, and feathered head of an ophidian emerges from the infernal portal. Goriagoth opens her mouth, showcasing thousands of large, seething white fangs. He turns around and steps directly inside her gaping, smouldering maw.
"My father will be pleased to hear the promising news." He sits down on her forked tongue.
"Until we meet again, and do take care of yourself. V-syvious."
She snaps her jaws shut, and her head slithers back into the portal, retreating into the fiery rupture. The crude opening reduces itself to a simmering scratch and shrinks into insignificance.
He knew my name, and yet he did not bother to introduce himself.
Not to mention, he is also a terrible liar.
I smile to myself. I'm curious to see where this collaboration may lead me. A new path paved into the unknown. Ira has told me once before that for one to be eligible for the role is to either have the capability of asexual reproduction or co-creation. I wonder if that is his true aim. If it is, then he needs me more than I need him.
As for the threat of Madonis coming for my soul, I do not fear judgment or death. I was forced to incarnate into this body and inherit all of its troubles, so therefore it is only right that I decide how this mortal vessel dies.
Then all of a sudden, my breath is caught and withheld in my lungs. I cannot breathe nor swallow. My voice is strained, and I am unable to speak. My throat is burning, including my skin, and yet there are no flames. I fall to my knees with my trembling hand lingering over the phantom sensation constricting my throat.
What is the meaning of this?
"V-syvious!" Ira appears and kneels beside me. "What happened?"
I cannot utter a word to him. He places his hand on my back, rubbing in gentle circular motions. "You need to breathe."
But, standing there in the distance is the shadow from my dream; my second incarnation, known as Alex. Ira's soothing words fell mute, and a high-pitched ringing pierces my inner auditory canals. The shadow slowly raises its arm and points at me. And then with an aversive inflection, they hiss, "KARMA."
The existential turmoil never ceases to haunt me. It is unending.
Maddening.
"You are my agony - and my past. I am your future - and your fate. I am the price for the life, which you have created." They spew with verbal venom and disdain...