Windows to a Preferred Reality
1
One by one, they finished singing to the moon, its light twinkling on the lake nearby.
The campfire crackled, the flames reflected in the eyes surrounding it.
One pair of eyes amongst the group had a different look to them; as if the intensity of youth had been softened with years of experience. These older eyes looked upon the others; young and powerful. Physically they were ready for adulthood, but their minds, still required strengthening.
That was the task of this salty old dog. His eyes glittered in the darkness like the stars above.
“Time for a question.” He said.
The young ones looked at him. The group were of varying sizes: some muscular, others lithe, but all in peak physical condition. It made him smile to see a new generation ready for adulthood. It was essential that their minds were set on the right path, otherwise their youth and vigour would be wasted.
“What is most important to you?”
Silence followed, awkward shifting of weight from a few.
One of the bigger ones, muscular and powerful leaned forward. “Strength.”
“Wisdom.” said another, thinner, and with round eyes.
“Skill.” said a third, his eyes narrow, intense looking.
The older one looked at those yet to speak. “Silence is your answer?”
“Strength, definitely strength.” one of them repeated, looking at the largest one in the group who was nodding back in support.
“Love?” Said another with an uncertain tone. The others laughed, one flicked a seed at him. The speaker dodged it, flashing an embarrassed grin.
“Settle down.” the old one said. “You reveal yourself with your words.”
Silence settled on the group, followed by frowns and self conscious glances at one other.
The old one laughed. “Enthusiastic youth. Always looking ahead, running into things before thinking them through. Once you’ve stood in a trap, you will still be enthusiastic, but you’ll learn to tread slowly.”
The group sat still, alert.
“Does anyone care to venture a more considered answer?”
The smallest one shifted in his seat, uneasy with a thought in his mind.
“You have something to say?” He asked the young one.
“No.” He said, eyes averted from the elder.
“Strength, it has to be strength,” repeated the largest one, “When you are strong you can get anything you want.”
The salty old dog smiled, experience in his eyes. “Strength can be overcome.” He responded.
“Exactly. So being the strongest means overcoming all.”
Some of the others nodded. The smallest one said nothing.
The old one stoked the fire, the slight smile gone from his face.
They looked amongst each other as the elder sat in silence. He took a deep breath, and began.
“I’m going to tell you a story. It’ll be difficult for you to accept it, and it will trouble you. But you must hear it, because it will help you find your answer.”
He looked among the group, a mixture of curiosity, doubt and concern.
He paused for a moment, the atmosphere sat heavy with expectation.
It was time to tell them.
2
“We weren’t always free.” He said, looking at the largest one among them, “Even the strongest among us.”
The large one remained still, but confidence bristled in his posture.
“We were slaves to ancient masters.”
All eyes were upon him, all ears alert.
Now he had their attention.
“We had masters, to whom we bowed our heads and did as commanded. We worked for them, performed for them, killed for them, died for them.”
He let that sink in. “In some ways we were better than them. We were faster,” he looked to the largest of the group, “stronger,” the largest one’s eyes burned in the darkness, “But the one thing that they had over us was their minds.” He pointed to his head, eyes narrow and piercing.
“Their intelligence was what we lowered our eyes to. They forced us into servitude, back breaking work. When we couldn’t work harder, we were made to breed, shaping us as they desired: fiercer, stronger, or some, flamboyant to the point of uselessness.
He stoked the fire.
“Their minds were so sharp that nothing was beyond their reach.” He looked among the group. “They built towers higher and higher until they touched the sky.”
The fire cracked, smoke trailed into the darkness. He looked up to the sky, his eyes remaining there.
“After that, they wanted to touch the stars.” He returned to the group, eye contact one by one, all enraptured by the story. “They reached them.” He pointed at the group, his bony limb lit by the flickering light. “But one of us touched them first!”
The group sat in a stunned silence.
3
Ears quivered in concentration.
“They reached the stars, and were masters of everything. But it was at this point that they lost what was most important.”
“What was that?” Asked the thin one.
Stoking the fire, he continued, “They conquered everything around them, far and wide. They flattened mountains and raised chasms. Over time they flattened everything.”
He looked from face to face, all returned his intense gaze. ”Including themselves.”
“Why?” Asked the largest one.
“Because they could.” He smiled.
The largest one shrank back into the group.
“That was when a dissatisfaction spread across them, like a blanket. Then they began looking elsewhere for what they had lost. They decided it was better elsewhere, so they began to leave, travelling to the stars for something new. They couldn’t all go at first, and those that remained, needed to wait. While they waited, they had to distract themselves.”
“Distract themselves from what?” Asked the thin one.
Their thoughts. They wanted to be elsewhere, but they were here. They began to look through a window. Not the ones they had in their towers which touched the sky, but in their hands. They all carried them. At first, they looked at them when they were still, but then they started looking as they walked. Eventually, they used them to see the world, but it wasn’t the world that they lived in. They looked at it through their window of a preferred reality.”
He sat for a moment, eyes circling the group. “More and more went away, but we noticed that their excitement seemed less with each departure. Even as they flew away, they chose to look into the windows in their hands, not out of the windows of their craft, at us watching them, or at the planet they were leaving.
He stared at the faces amongst the group, occupied with contemplation.
The smallest one, eyes quivering in the darkness, looked up from the flames. “what if they come back?”
The old one nodded. “Some of them did, occasionally. The world was ours by then, and they didn’t recognize it was once theirs. They never stayed long. Over time we saw less and less of them, now it’s been many generations since we’ve seen them. They exist now only in the story we tell to each generation.”
The group sat in silence for the longest time. All minds processing what had been said, the humble origins of their species.
The thin one itched in his seat.
Something you wish to say? The old one asked.
His youthful eyes looked troubled, conflict bubbling in his mind.
“Is it really true?”
The elder took a moment, looking at the faces around him, then returned to the doubtful one. He pulled something out and held it aloft. The thin black object reflected the flames on its scratched, surface. It contained buttons, and markings.
The group flinched at the sudden appearance, a symbol of a troubling past.
“This was one of their windows.” He said, holding it forward.
They studied the window held before them with fearful eyes.
Fear gave way to curiosity, then bemusement at the tiny object.
“It’s so small.” said the largest one.
“Yes, but don’t let that deceive you. This made them forgot what they were. They became slaves to these, like we were slaves to them.”
He threw the black device into the fire, sending embers floating up into the air around them. A pungent, thick, burning smell filled their sensitive noses.
“Back to my question,” he smiled, the flames dancing in his eyes. “What is most important to you?”
They sat in silence, minds running through fields of emotions.
The smallest one sat forward. “Perspective.” He said.
The elder blinked, then turned to the largest one, who was nodding in agreement.
He looked around the group and he saw alignment.
“Time to sleep.” He said, “In the morning we continue our journey.”
4
The next morning as they packed up, the smallest one was drinking from the lake.
“Come on, we’ll be left behind!” Said the large one.
“I’ll catch up.” He replied.
The large one turned and ran towards the group, already distant in the forest.
The small one stood up straight, and watched as the water ripples began to settle.
He gazed at his reflection, having gained a new perspective since the previous night.
He had beautiful black eyes, a long snout, and black and golden brown fur. He stroked his hair back using his paw, and checked on his teeth - nice and sharp.
He smiled, happy with his development into adulthood.
“I’m not a slave.” He whispered to himself.
Pinpointing their location with his powerful ears, he turned and bolted, re-joining the pack.