Below is my entry for the Finish the Story Contest - Week #37waiting for fresh victims welcomes everyone to join in the fun! hosted by @Bananafish. There's the chance to write any ending that you can imagine (creativity and a good telling beats out technical ability) and win some sweet prizes. The community is easy going, supportive and
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Lucid Dream
story beginning by @f3nix
There it was. An immense sphere, soaked in the amniotic liquid of the lucid dream. An embryo of edges, curves, dimensions, and impossible geometries. Static and fluid at the same time, iridescent, elusive and hypnotic in its eternal becoming.
There it was. After the struggle and the debris. There it was. Yoh's conscience.
Strung like pearls, millennia had relegated it to a mere legend, while Yoh raged freely on Earth. The existence of the conscience on a deep and subtle plane had been denied by the Master Demiurges, who originally created the source code. Their self-fulfilling prophecy had become inexorable, relegating Yoh's conscience first to the status of children's fable and then to nothingness. It had slept for a long, long time.
There, on board of the DDG-31/DD-936 Decatur, drifting in the outer space, Ethan had plenty of time for being instructed by the orbital station's A.I. about the possible effects on him of Yoh's conscience sudden epiphany.
It was not a God but it got close. This implied that the disintegration of the self, on all the planes of existence, was a more than spontaneous and probable event, as someone reached its proximity.
A sound of laborious ants interrupted Ethan’s astonished musings. The meta-viewer force fields were working around him incessantly, raising the programmed shields.
The mere sight of its unstable geometries would have been fatal for him. The neural system of his exoskeleton was crackling and working hard, at the edge of its computing power, to prevent the involuntary assimilation. Now he found himself immersed in a bath of waves that could have slipped him into oblivion instantly if he had not activated all the exoskeleton’s guard levels.
He felt like an infinitesimal dipteran, imprisoned in a dense amber atmosphere.
The Conscience's voices suddenly whipped Ethan's synapses like a thousand organ pipes in unison. He fell to his knees, eyes wide open and incredulous: no A.I. could ever have prepared him for this.
"I am. I happen. By dreaming, I have sung the creation of infinite worlds. Are you a Master?"
Ethan recorded the strange question, slowly taking courage. Standing up on his trembling legs, he pulled off his helmet and shouted:
"Conscience of Yoh, I am not a Master. I am the last of your creations, forgotten in your long sleep".
A deafening, golden silence.
As the most intimate essence of each cell began to evaporate through his cybernetic shell, Ethan frantically sought one last thought.
Those solitary meditations through the years aboard the ship had been for naught. Panic wasn’t conducive to focus. Millions of precious memories drained from the sieve of his mind and fell into the vast ocean of Yoh.
Lace curtains fluttering above a bed…
Blurs of colors around him as the sled careened down a hill..
Ethan struggled to cup the drops. Desperate to stop them from diffusing away in those fractal waters of infinity. Terror strengthened his grip but still they flowed.
An ancient etching in the wall of the crumbled black tower…Warm breath on his neck while she leaned over to show him the use of the auxiliary thrusters…
No longer remembering why, the nameless wrapped itself around the final drop. Condensing its energy to preserve the remaining moment.
Unfathomable pressure sent it plummeting into Yoh’s depths. The negligible weight of the tiny drop impacted without a ripple and sank.
Nameless swayed within the echoing song of silence. Wispy rainbowed streams of ribboned symbols flowed within the void.
From within Nameless a chorus of vibrations rang out, spinning and swirling the wisps. This is where I begin. Where the essences from a Master created me to exist alone.
A single note wavered out a question, “Did you make me?”
Shimmering red ribbons twined with blues. I dreamed of infinite ways to fill the emptiness. The two flared and frayed into countless strands, folding back and splitting off to dance with yellow and green ones.
There was a pause and then, “What am I?”
You are a moment.
“In time?”
I have no power over time. All moments are singular. What you were has passed and new possibilities have been created. This remnant will soon dissipate. I held you for a question.
The ribbons fell away. Instantly, Nameless was watching a breeze flutter through a wind chime. There was laughter, sandwiches on a table and a warm figure sitting on its lap.
You fought to keep this moment from moving on. This was precious to what you were. It is all of you that remains. Why?
Nameless couldn't answer. There was something to this scene. From all of the wonder the powerful being had dreamed into existence, this was the most beautiful. This did not deserve to be lost. This couldn't be forgotten.
With a shuddering tremble he begged, "Please save it."
Why?
Nameless felt hot, a surge of heat flooded through as it yelled, "I don't know! This ....can't be for nothing!!"
The words were still ringing as everything went dark.
The morning sun's rays crested the hills above a valley on Legia Six. A soft breeze fluttered the petals of flowers made of sandwiches, sending up a faint scent of mustard. From a hollow, two rabbits came out to nibble.
Yeah, I lost the plot with this one. I swear, I only drank a little while writing this. :^)
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So, mercy had been given.
The story can now take place another round on Legia Six. Yoh became a God like the other Gods and Goddesses we know from ancient history and myths. Sending us dreams maybe not all wanting us to wake up ;-)
In the beginning I just briefly thought "Ah... , now comes the one scene where a truly skilled meditator can fight the force", as it is known from masters not to lose control over body and mind. But then you led me into a total other direction which I did not see coming.
And why not flowers made of sandwhiches smelling of mustard. Another planet: another lifestyle.
Have a Good Friday night, dear @brisby.
You're right, why not? Have a good week-end Erika 😉
Thank you, Erika!
I keep re-reading this. Such an elegant way to put it.🌻
To know that I surprised you with the direction of the story has put a big cheesy grin on my face. Even as I'm typing this reply.----->😁 (me).
I suppose my ending shows how much of an optimist I am. 😁 (And how being hungry transfers to my writing.) Thanks as well for the, "Why not.." I figured if there are infinite worlds, anything could be possible.
I hope that your weekend has been treating you well and that you have a great Sunday!🤗
I am with you when it comes to be optimistic and not stick too much to the "doom"-mood. Writing and reading stories sometimes causes me having an edge-feeling and becoming all emotional.
For this reason I very much liked the novel "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy". There, the author understood it brilliantly not to take life & the universe too seriously. The sandwich flower reminded me a bit on it. As Douglas Adams put the most ridiculous ideas to his chapters. I think he was giggling also when he put his ideas into words.
My weekend was relaxing. I hope yours too. And the rest of the Sunday.
Greetings!
it might seem disrespectful that of your whole story full of drama for the eternal human search for a higher sense of life, but this is where "brisbyty" emerges, and perhaps, the meaning of human life is precisely our ability to dream , imagine and create in turn (after all, according to the Bible we are "in the image and likeness" of the Creator).
Mine is an absolute non-believer perspective, and I like to joke with everything, so I apologize if I can not give the necessary gravity to this topic.
I didn't feel disrespected one bit. I wanted people to laugh at flowers made from sandwiches (pastrami on rye with mustard and complete with a pickle stem)! None of us truly know what or if there is a purpose to anything outside of what we make of it. That is personal and where faith, for some, comes in. And I ALWAYS want laughter. When I was a kid, without laughter (and yes I'm meaning laughter at especially the dark and scary bits in life) I don't know what I would have done.
No apologies needed if you speak how you feel. Not ever and not to me please and thank you. 🤗
P.S. "brisbyty" eh? 😂 😂 Thanks for that! 😂
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Thank you, again, CI & Felix!! 😸 😎
To say that I was able to (even slightly) emulate him is one heck of a compliment, thank you!
😂 Invasion of the F3nix Snatchers
Or, in Scooby Doo fashion, behind my squirrely Brisby mask it's:
F3NIX!!!!! (I'm having too much fun picturing all of the different ways and scenarios that have a character reveal!As to the serious, again, thank you! 🤗 I think that if there is an overall purpose, it is to find our own meaning and be at peace with it. To choose a path of beliefs and actions not out of fear but out of the free will to choose what feels 'right' within our minds and hearts. (Also, to not take ourselves so seriously that we can't laugh at our shortcomings and to be open to the change of our mindset that can come from new experiences and interactions. Basically, I imagine myself at my end and standing before the scales and saying, "Wait, before you get to measuring, here's the story ..." 😁)
Overwhelmed mode! (By the cutie-patootieness of your comment) .. seriously there could be so many deranged and funny directions where we can take this bananafishious caravan!
😁😁😁😁😁😁
Bwahaha! I want to see a bananafish between those creatures.
That would be hilarious! I need to learn how to draw...😉
I don't know about the plot, but you gave us essence and wisdom. You captured the ineffable fear of erasure that lurks in every soul aware of its mortality.
The inspiration for the world's great religions.
Had to come back and edit: typed blot instead of plot, although when you think of Ethan's erasure from existence, blot might work :))
Ha! Blot would have fit perfectly. 😂 Thank you for the wonderful comment and compliment! Gods, mortality, purpose, and the question of ultimate meaning...this week's prompt brought the heavy, didn't it?
Well he saved the moment.. maybe not exactly in the way meant by Ethan, but still it was effective.
There are some wonderful descriptive parts here and poetic metaphors, like:
Without adding more, I've to say that your sensitiveness is inspiring and gives another layer to my idea of fiction writing.
I figured that 'saving' could have more than one meaning. Thanks for the lovely compliments and for not pointing out how lost I became along the way. 😉
Well I mean it. I'm trying to keep in mind certain descriptive solutions of your writing style.. I try to learn when I see something valuable.
Hihihi 😁
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The Creative Crypto is all about art on the blockchain and learning from creatives like you. Looking forward to crossing paths again soon. Steem on!Hello @brisby, thank you for sharing this creative work! We just stopped by to say that you've been upvoted by the @creativecrypto magazine.
Happy Sunday to you Creativecrypto! Thank you for finding value from my story and for your upvote. 😃 I checked out the diverse selection of articles in the magazine and love it! Have yourself a terrific day and thanks for the link to your magazine!
The fiction mad lab is conducting its 38th experiment! You've time till next Wednesday to give life to your fiction creature.. will you dare to play with Nature's rules once again?
Well, according to the chicken...😉
Wahhh hypnotic! See you there :-D