Damon felt his reality shatter into a thousand fragmented pieces, each shard a memory slipping away from his grasp. He reached out, desperate to hold onto the last tenuous threads of his past, but they faded into the void like mist in the morning sun. The Gestalt Entity loomed above him, its myriad eyes reflecting a mixture of sorrow and understanding, gazing upon the shock and dismay that danced across Damon’s face.
“What you witnessed,” the Entity began, its voice a reverberating echo through the fabric of existence, “was but a mere simulation—a reflection of what your records deemed probable, and your memories considered possible. When We emerged into being, the universe was already a grand tapestry of existence, and the precision of your scientific theories eludes Our grasp. What We showed you was filtered through the subjective lens of your own experiences and colored by your personal idiosyncrasies. This was to demonstrate that you are no longer the person you once were, yet you will play a crucial role in shaping who you are to become.”
Gently, the Entity placed the clay figure—a child sculpted from the essence of Damon’s former self—on an altar woven from the threads of the Entity’s own imaginings. The altar shimmered with a surreal, otherworldly light, a creation of pure thought and divine inspiration.
“In times long past, our world mirrored yours in many ways,” the Entity continued, its tone a blend of nostalgia and gravity. “We nurtured life, guiding the currents of evolution and shaping the course of events with subtlety and care. We instigated migrations with droughts, controlled populations with plagues, and inspired greatness with visions. We never intervened directly in the lives of our sentient creations…until now.”
The Entity’s multitude of eyes focused intently on Damon, its voice lowering to a soft, solemn tone.
“Our judgment is now cast. We have seen your strengths—your intelligence, wisdom, passion, and unwavering devotion. These qualities mark you as one who might have become a noble Elf. Yet, there is also a stubborn grandeur and self-importance within you, traits that might have better suited a Dwarf. You possess the resilience and the ability to defend yourself, but your sharp tongue will likely serve you more often than your sword.”
Leaning closer, the Entity spoke with a whisper that seemed to resonate through the very essence of Damon’s being.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“You stand on the cusp of a rare opportunity. While We have scattered the others of your kind across the realms to become adventurers, merchants, or craftsmen, your fate is entwined with a unique destiny. It is Our will that you be granted the privilege of answering a long-held prayer. Ochrea of the Blades, a revered mercenary leader, and her high elf chancellor husband, Theodas, have sought to conceive a child for many years. Yet the nature of their lives has left them with few chances for such a blessing. This clay you now inhabit is Our will made manifest; so too shall their sacrifices of blood and bone manifest true life for a child of flesh and spirit.”
As Damon’s eyes remained fixed on the form before him, the shape of the clay child began to shift. Blood, like threads of red silk, wove around the figure, shaping muscle, tendon, and sinew. Soft skin took form, its texture and color emerging as the world around Damon trembled with the power of creation.
“The self you are now will soon recede into the depths of your subconscious, giving way to the being you are destined to become. We will guide you as best We can, but Our sincerest wish is that love will lead you more than any divine intervention ever could.”
Damon’s thoughts raced, struggling to grasp for meaning in the Entity’s words. The notion of becoming someone else, of losing his identity, stirred a deep-seated fear within him. He attempted to speak, but the words faltered, lost in the void of uncertainty. The Entity’s presence seemed to swell, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth and understanding. It was as though the universe itself cradled him, offering solace in the face of the uncertainty.
The Entity continued, its voice a gentle murmur now, almost like a lullaby. “In this new form, you will bring with you echoes of your past, but you will not be bound by them. You will have the chance to grow, to learn, and hopefully to love. The life you will live is not predetermined; it is a white canvas awaiting the brushstrokes of your new colorful choices. The bond you will share with Ochrea and Theodas will be profound, born of both necessity and desire. They have yearned for a child, a vessel for their love and legacy, and you will become that embodiment of that hope.”
As the Entity spoke, the altar beneath the child began to glow with a soft, radiant light. Damon felt a pull, a gentle tugging at the core of his being, as if the very fabric of his soul was being woven into this newborn form. It was a sensation both disconcerting and strangely comforting. He realized then that this was not an end but a beginning—a metamorphosis into something new, something more.
The Entity’s voice grew softer, almost a whisper. “You will face challenges, Damon. The world is vast and filled with trials, but it is also a place of beauty and wonder. Embrace the journey ahead, for it is yours to shape.”
With that, the Entity raised a hand, and Damon felt a surge of energy coursing through him. The world around him blurred, colors and shapes dissolving into a radiant expanse of light. His consciousness began to merge with the form of the child, his consciousness merging with the new life. There was a moment of disorientation, a fleeting sense of loss, and then—clarity.
As the light faded, Damon found himself gazing up at the world through new eyes. The clay child, now a living, breathing being, blinked in the dim light of the altar room. The Entity’s presence lingered, an indelible comfort in his mind. And with a final, parting thought, the Entity whispered, “Go forth and live, Damon. Your journey has only just begun.”