A gentle touch swept over Viktor’s face and lit up his consciousness. A touch that went through a window felt in Viktor’s flesh as a sense of unfamiliarity. The only light that would make him feel good was that of the moon, but on this occasion, it came from a lamp.
There were many objects around Viktor, but most of them had no concern for the spheres gravitating around the room. Viktor regarded them as human body extensions, so he presupposed there might be around five human beings nearby, for five spheres can be counted from Viktor's line of sight. A line of sight that was limited by a visor that had been located around Viktor’s eyes. Only one of his eyes was free. Had a slot that allowed light through.
Viktor meditated for a while. Many fleeting memories that would never come up in the wild popped in front of him as small bubbles. Life and death—the true meaning of the cycle of life—are not to be asked away. A day death will come for him, and he didn’t associate any importance with this fact; it had to be woven inside his flesh. A flesh that only had strived for another day, going as far as a day will allow him. In other words, a reward. Life had granted him, while he existed with not only one reward but as many as he wanted. A reward that chastised those struggles that disquieted Viktor’s calmness. Finally, his thoughts won’t wander anymore, and a recognition of his primal life sated his dread. Whether Viktor had become, to some extent, a human that needed a constant mental tranquilizer perplexed his trembling being.
“A day will come; it always comes for all of us,” a human voice sounded through a sphere. “You beasts are so valuable nowadays! You don’t know how much humans are in need of bones. Magic, as you like to call it, requires tons of bones. Curious name, eh? I’ve always thought about it in my leisure time. Do you really believe that our walls protect us from the outside? Exterior and foreign world that, in our pursuit of meaning, we’ve encompassed us up. I won’t say it's heaven, but it’s our world, and we need to take it over again. We are going to be peering at the skin of the chicken. Then next is the wolf."
The chicken beast the human voice meant was a fowl; he can’t name beasts properly; they lack what makes humans the apex predators: magic. A fowl could argue that this so-called magic had a purpose beyond human beings; they couldn’t fly if magic applied to them, and a prosthetic to replace their short wings certainly would have been beneficial. Nonetheless, they dismissed technological inventions.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Most of the beasts around Viktor didn’t share a feeling of dread or animosity towards humans. Everything, in their minds, was okay. Waiting had a sacred aspect to any of these primal beasts. Waiting had taught them the art of non-attachment. A non-attachment that humans unwillingly tried, though unsuccessfully, to align with. Soldiers had many magical drugs that softened their moods. Because a mood is an existential part of the human being. It couldn’t be perturbed; therefore, a stabilizer provided by a sphere connected to one’s brain stimulated the production of happiness. Soldiers received the title of ‘knight of light.’ An honorary title for those willing to live and die without any attachments, for they clearly were happy. And what else could it be? But happiness made us humans in the first place, creating a sense of purpose. A purpose that couldn’t be trimmed nor cropped by natural forces but the almighty and untamable human spirit. That spirit had, undeniably, inspired us to look up to the future without fear or trembling. That spirit that had built up society. A must-need spirit that only these knights were capable of. Of taming nature and all those monsters hidden there, lurking in the shadows. That also means any unchecked technology we could come up with will soon be understood and finally tamed. Until a new unsurmountable thing comes up, but in that case, new humans will be needed—a new generation that, as in the past, will tame nature. And we will teach this truth to our new iterations, for our reward will be heaven, and make heaven on earth, on this ground where magic exists.
The human being was a scared and small animal until he realized his potential, principally inspired by those around him—those knights of the light, those creators of meaning, those who, despite the maelstrom, will regain and rule over the world. Until we finally agreed that it had been enough and over.
A city around Viktor had been laid out. What was beneath it? Perhaps a structure made by nature. An illusion that only existed as a formless void.
Beasts had no biases in trading among other species, but humans could only regard another human being as equal. Even in these jails of meaning, as any beast would see it. In civilization, humans find themselves at home. A home that soothed any fear. Any trembling will soon be deafened by the booming voices of those around you. And you will continue on. Until God wished.
Viktor could understand that fowl had a different kind of relationship than those living in the wilderness. Amicable with humans and beasts. They could work with both parties, but as beasts, they didn’t harbor ill feelings towards a traitor, foe, or friend. No one could care much about what the other beasts did. Viktor was like this. And vulnerability? The sense of fragility? Like a petal in liquid nitrogen. He could only answer the problem of waiting with acceptance.
Let it be.