"Tell me, Lukas…"
The sun beamed down, almost too bright for one who had seen a hundred years ripple past. He had tried everything to prolong his existence, but after 122 years, the limits of the human form were unmistakable.
"Now that you're here, unable to move, gazing over your entire family's legacy…"
"Are you satisfied? Do you feel you've done all you could?"
Lukas, a frail figure with no hair to speak of, barely managed to incline his head toward the sun. His eyelids were heavy, wanting to squint, but age had robbed him of that simple movement.
"This chair... It's more comfortable... than the last... Camila…"
Lukas shifted his head towards Camila, catching a glimpse of her figure clothed in a bright yellow sundress. The seams were vividly detailed by squiggly stitches performed by Camila herself. Her beauty was thankfully not soiled by an Ai-assisted wheelchair.
"And yes… I am very content…"
Huff... Huff...
"I was able… to witness… my great… grandchildren… blossom…"
"I'm relieved… to be the first… to pass…"
Lukas and Camila had shared over 90 years of tender partnership. Their connection was nothing short of extraordinary.
What shone brighter, however, was the world they had crafted together.
Once rife with conflict, the earth trembled under threats of war and nuclear destruction, suffocating civilians with fears and empty wallets, as corruption seeped into the food they consumed.
The world teetered on the edge of despair.
Though Lukas hadn't single-handedly engineered peace, he ignited a revolution in global health that eventually led to his role as a peacemaker.
From the purest way of growing, transporting, and storing high quality and healthy food to then claiming a seat on the world council, he brought hope to every human as the man who saved the race from disease.
With peace in sight, humankind turned its gaze towards Mars and thanked Lukas with all the freedom he could ask for…
Around him sprawled a serene island, brimming with every fruit, animal, and crop known to man.
He had crafted a refuge for his family, seated on the edge of his ocean-view balcony.
Beneath him, lush terraces cascaded into a garden before settling into a vast expanse of land.
Amenities like a pool, hot tub, outdoor gym, cold plunges, sauna, trampolines, and red-light therapy domes framed the perimeter, while his joyful children played freely on the verdant grass below.
"Well… I'll let you be. If my calculations are right, your passing is likely within the day. You've got water in a tube and your beloved honey-sweetened chocolate shake on tap."
Tears streamed down Camila's cheeks, catching her by surprise.
Lukas had already said his farewells, embracing each family member, now waiting for the moment to depart.
Meanwhile, Camila had several years ahead of her, fortunate enough to have escaped the tolls that had burdened Lukas throughout his life.
"Thank you… Camila… Even though I can't—" "—see your face clearly… I can picture it as vividly as the day you turned 25… We'll reunite in the afterlife…"
Death had long been a reconciled concept for Lukas, now merely a release he eagerly anticipated.
Yet one lingering question spun through his mind, stirring both excitement and uncertainty — what awaited him beyond this life?
Moments later, Camila stepped out of view, leaving behind Lukas, who settled down with a canister of a honey-sweetened chocolate milkshake resting on the side of his perfectly shaped lounge chair.
Anticipation was brewing in the air.
"Eternal dreams… unfathomable to man… Is all I ask for… God…"
Lukas reached out for the metallic tube, his heart racing as he summoned every ounce of strength his super-hyoid bone could muster to suck the flavor from the tube.
As the flavors of milk, chocolate, and honey surged down his throat, it felt like a torrential downpour, awakening every nerve in his body with an electrifying shock of anticipation.
Would this be the moment that changed everything for him?
Lukas held his breath, seemingly unable to breathe.
His eyes quickly went dark, followed by his neck.
In the moments of passing, all Lukas thought about was how that final sip was the best moment of ecstasy life had offered him…
ZZZ!
…
Meandering through the currents of life, 'unaware', was a feeling unwanted by all souls in existence.
Losing track of oneself, or simply disassociating from oneself is an inescapable phenomenon.
Instead of life being shown through the eyes of a new born child, life was shown through the eyes of a spectator who unknowingly bounced from one perspective to the next.
Visions revealing a sorrowful woman boiling herbs inside a metal pot, to instantly shift to a focused man marking up a crop-field map. Subtle moments of a single oven being carefully opened to the warm aroma of garlic and ginger were repeated day in and day out, while the repetitive action of a chilly bath in the river behind the homestead was filled with tears.
How could a child not react once, let alone cry to the frigid temperatures of river-water?
The most notable aspect that resulted in this child's mother and father painting themselves as failures was the lack of eye contact. It did not matter how fast they would wave their hands across their son's purview, nothing would result in any semblance of life or freewill being expressed.
It was depressing to an unfathomable degree — to fall asleep believing you must have done something wrong…
…
Two years of this child's life passed by unknowingly to the soul that rested behind the sternum.
During this time, up and coming doctors and anyone who thought they could help passed into the humble homestead. Even the neighbors several houses down the dirt path frequently came for helpful and hopeful visits, offering glass vials of colorful liquids and hope their graceful touches would bring life into the child's soul.
To no avail, it led to nothing but attention being focused on the Veran family, and the horrible feeling of disappointment the Veran family slowly grew used too.
Bam!
Terror struck the face of a caring mother witnessing her soaked husband barge through the wooden door.
White cotton undershirt and padded black tightly-knit linen pants that were even equipped with dark leather knee-pads; he was equipped for practically anything.
In his arms was their oldest son of four years old, dripping with diluted blood. "Phloria! I need you to heal Julian's back! He fell in the river and was pierced by a random bone!"
Phloria swatted the oranges that sat comfortably on the wooden kitchen table, then took a glance at her lifeless son. The boy's eyes were filled with absolutely nothing, and blankly stared in their direction.
Without hesitation, she withdrew her gaze from the corner of the dining room and yelled, "Don! Kitchen table!"
Phloria found herself placing pressure around the abnormal bone, and wiped away the blood that never seemed to wane. She almost jumped back in fear as the mutilated flesh uncomfortably twitched.
Thud!
The bone hit the floor.
"It hurts! It hurts mommy!!!" Julian squirmed, gripping his fathers chest.
Suddenly, an ethereal light mixed with the orange hue gently illuminating the dining room.
First came water coalescing around Phloria's hand, then shortly disappeared into Julian's open wound.
In the dark corner of the dining room, the poor boy who hadn't yet realized his reality raised his eyebrows.
His small infantile hand reached forward as his eyes gazed towards the bewildering scene.
Only when the poor child saw something he never thought was possible — in the deepest parts of his soul — did everything he once knew and had witnessed up until this point, 'click'.
Teetering over the edge of a crafted chair, he fell over from the sight of water materializing around his mother's hand.
Thud!
What followed was a chain of seizures, interlocking his arms and legs.
Despite the seizure only lasting a few seconds, it was enough to plunge Phloria into a fit of self-blame.
"Why Elijah… What did I do wrong?" Phloria wept while kneeing to the floor, later feeling the comfort of her partner in life from behind.
Their child was passed out cold on the smooth wooden floor. Don and Phloria wept, hoping for a miracle.
Anything.
Even a chirp.
Sigh… "This is pointless… I'm going to bed…"
Phloria stood up, began to walk away, then froze at a sound she had never heard before.
Elijah, the new born struggling with his reality, finally came to a realization. His hand reached for the stars, leading to his first words being spoken…
"Hafe… I… bin… remorn?"
Phloria and Don rushed to their son, even Julian who was nearly healed rushed to his parents' side.
"Quick! Take him to our bed! A storm is coming. We have to monitor him." Don ordered.
"Julian! You are sleeping with us tonight." Phloria smiled with tears streaming down her face.
The entire Veran family cuddled together on the wool mattress sitting low to the ground. On one night stand sat two metallic bottles of water, while the other held breast milk.
Small candles sat on an overhead shelf, and continued to burn all throughout the night.
Meanwhile, Phloria laid her back against the pillow with her 2 year old child randomly moving in between her arm and chest. Julian was next to Phloria, dead asleep, while Don was also passed out from a heavy day in the fields.
Yet, he always had the energy to spend time with his family.
…
Inside Lukas' mind, or perhaps Elijah now, dormant neurotransmitters were sparking to life.
His heartbeat grew stable, while the heaving of his breath became normalized. All of which were previously inconsistent.
All of his senses began to flood with life, similar to receiving an IV of every vital nutrient the body needs.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Elijah woke up to the sounds of birds pecking the window, while a rake scraped leaves into a pile just outside one of the sectioned windows.
Elijah's infantile body sat up from the comfy wool bed, and took a glance at his surroundings.
'Smooth stone walls… smooth wooden floors… storage-rafters beneath the angular roof with a ladder next to the door… candles… plants… and the obvious primitive look that brings everything together… Where the hell am I… Actually, who am I?'
Elijah asked this question to himself, and instantly received an onslaught of pains in his head. Memories from his past life, specifically before he died came to light, causing his entire body to boil in flames.
"Div I?"
'Dammit! I can't even speak properly! Did I reincarnate? Unless this is just one of those dreams unfathomable to man… I should be dead. Death was the only fact I knew was absolute. Not a single thing in the universe could trump death… Not even the healthiest man in the world being pumped with different supplemental compounds could trump death… Pff… I always enjoyed that, but it turned out my body was far less resilient than anyone else…'
Elijah's body slumped to the bed. It just barely bounced against the soft wool material covered by whitish-beige tightly-knit cotton sheets, and pushed Elijah into a state of despair.
Soon after, steps began to resound down the hallway behind the cracked door.
It seemed his mother was returning.
"…Elijah?! Are you awake yet?" Phloria softly raised her tone of voice. Her figure creeped through the door with a metallic bottle of milk in her left hand while a plate of finely chopped beef was in her right.
'Fuck. This definitely isn't a dream…'
Elijah suddenly grew a headache paired with distant memories of his past. Pictures of his mother filled his brain, especially those of his younger years…
"Waaaaaa! Waaaaaaa!"
"Looks like he's doing just fine! Crying is normal right?" Julian said from behind Phloria.
"Yes, very normal! I believe he just needs some nourishment and outside time."
Elijah couldn't understand a single word they said. His eyes were wide open with his arms sprawled to the side.
The next thing he knew, he was being fed milk with a creamy texture by his supposed mother with the bluest eyes he had ever seen before. They almost seemed fake, as if enchanted by the graphics similar to the PlayStation Omega.
Afterwards, lightly-cooked minced beef was slowly spooned into his mouth, followed by a single raw egg yolk.
In any given situation, Elijah would've been ecstatic about his current dilemma. However, his mind was filled with nothing but knots, and led to his tastebuds not working properly.
Elijah was then taken outside.
It took a few minutes for Elijah's eyes to adjust, and when they did, he almost died from a sudden heart attack.
The sun was strikingly bright, and just barely reached over a towering stone wall wrapping around his eyesight infinitely in the far distance. Dozens of similar-style homesteads paired with gardens and different types of small animals lined the dirt road leading across Elijah's sight. The grass was almost perfectly green, and brushed in the winds that seeped over the ridge of the wall.
'This isn't real.'
'Something of this magnitude can't possibly be real.' Elijah thought as he bounced inside Phloria's steady rhythm.
He suddenly burped, sedimenting the possibility of truth into his mind.
"What do you think, Elijah? Beautiful right!"
'Brown eyes, brown hair… I think that must be Julian.'
"Honey… It's sweet that you wish to talk to him, but for now let's keep the conversation to a minimum. Letting him observe us will be the best path for his growth." Phloria said softly, raising her head to get a better view of the dirt road running horizontally in front of their vision.
Suddenly, a tall man with leather overalls was seen running vigilantly — spraying dirt in his wake.
"Phloria! He—He's awake?!"
Don rushed around the corner, but slowed down as he neared his wife. His face was full of sweat and wheat strands, while his padded knees were painted with dirt and grime.
"He is! And he ate!"
Sigh… "That's good to hear. I have about 10 minutes until I have to get back to it. The profits are looking proud this season!"
'Seems like my family are farmers… Most likely, Phloria tends to the garden over there on the right while managing the small chicken pasture on the left… This place takes fantasy farming to the next level. This was how it started in the medieval times, and also how it ended before I died…'
'If this is real, then I suppose I should focus on removing my headaches… If this is real, there should be a reason why I was brought here… If this is real, then maybe an aspect of my wildest fantasies is possible here…'
'I still remember last night… Phloria's hand suddenly grew clear liquid armor, and the next morning, Julian's injury almost completely healed…'
'There has to be a reason for everything.'
From this moment onward, Elijah found himself accepting everything that came to him. Sure, he may have been unwilling and annoyed most of the time, but slowly grew to relish in the positive emotions radiating from his family in the beginning.
In just under two years he grasped the language known as "Kotun", and portrayed himself as a damaged and unsociable child deeply connected to nature.
In reality, he was always inside his head, trying to figure out how he would survive in a world surrounded by towering walls.
At first he was blind to the idea, but as more memories began to surface in the form of headaches, he grew even more afraid of the present, and even grew close to dissociating his soul from himself again.
This is exactly the reason why Elijah began investing time into deep meditations. He was tired of his soul being split apart, tired of the headaches that would sometimes knock him out, and tired of the healing potions that were arranged as gifts from the neighbors who had heard about such a challenge.
Actually, Elijah heavily enjoyed gulping down the brownish-green vials of liquid. The feeling was euphoric, similar to a drug. However, he quickly noticed he became dependent on that feeling as an escape from his current perilous situation.
The mind of an elder inside the mind of an infant. To say there were consequences was obvious, and brought about fear the moment the potions were halted.
It stopped any headache from appearing for a few hours, and gave him the energy to take random walks through the dirt road unbeknownst to his parents who were busy either tending the crop fields or gardens.
Another downside to his current predicament relates to the vast amounts of knowledge that not only caused more headaches, but the dots he was able to connect after further understanding the Kotun language.
Elijah isn't one to blindly choose a side. Furthermore, he is not someone to reveal his advantages, as they would no longer be as such.
Instead, he resorted to focusing on his environment while observing and keeping everything he understands close to him.
The forest behind Elijah's humble homestead has a lonely and mossy rock that allows his feet to perfectly lie at a ninety-degree angle.
Over the past six months. Elijah has been venturing to that very spot day after day as he attempts to teach himself about the potential wonders of this world.
Magic.
To fully realize and theorize what he was living in despite not making even an ounce of progress, deeply hurt.
A meditation strategy that pulls Elijah's focus into a specific part of his body was his everyday routine while sitting atop this lonely rock.
Over a long period of time, Elijah was able to grasp a lingering and familiar energy that was not physically there, but only spiritually. His intention had first been nothing of the sort, but soon he came to realize a difference in the way his meditations felt, only after achieving a powerful state of focus.
His very own soul.
The lifeforce of what some people would call freewill.
Suddenly, an event that had never happened before while focusing on his soul caused his body to begin tingling, soon shifting to violent vibrations. Similar to the feeling of astral projection, his body struggled to escape the struggles as he slowly leaned backwards.
POP!
Elijah's limbs went flailing in a sporadic yet split-second seizure that sent a chill up his spine.
The entire world and terrain warped before his very eyes, causing the environment to transform into pure white noise mixed with every color of the universe.
The next thing he noticed was a new sensation inside his soul, or rather, surrounding his soul. By slowly feeling around his chest cavity, a black and slightly translucent energy was "felt" acting as a shield or core that protected his soul.
"Did I… Did I just unlock magic?!"
Considering Elijah's bank of knowledge was filled with blockages, he began feeling every intentional movement with his body. Hand motions that would theoretically shoot out a ball of fire or water were blatantly being thrown left and right, while the small currents of wind were attempting to be tamed.
Finally, after taking some time for a deep breath and returning to his meditation, Elijah lost the feeling of the mossy rock chilling his bum. A rainstorm had recently laid waste to the farms, causing a delay in the very beginning of the planting season.
Instead, when opening his eyes, Elijah saw the world slowly tilt upside down.
The sparse amounts of brown and green leaves that lay comfortably on a brown branch began to be thrown around by a small gust of wind, while a few seeds were dropped by a small bird wary of the human near its nest.
Later, the feeling of weightlessness and blood rushing to his infantile head created a sensation akin to…
What was that word again?
Freedom.
The feeling of being bound to absolutely nothing!
At this point, including the natural laws of the world.
When all was finished and Elijah had completed a full rotation in mid-air, he passed out from not just exhaustion, but the excruciating headache filled with an indescribable voice in his familiar English language.
"Save me! You must save me!"
Thump!