This story is weird. Straight up. It's also a pretty big mess of ideas and imagery and little metaphors that make sense in my brain but lord knows it's doubtful it will in anyone else's. Just take it for what it is - raw. It's very raw, and it's supposed to be that way. It's not a very traditional story, as the characters aren't very important and the plot isn't exactly moving. But it's not really about that. It's just about raw beauty, raw life, raw emotion. So in that aspect, I'm proud of it.
But in every other aspect it's a mess and I could have done a lot better, but hey, at least I finished it.
---
Cocoon
Gasp.
My chest lunged out, as if it had been pulled by a hook. A cold, gooey substance clung to every part of my body. I could feel it peel from my face as I convulsed mostly uncontrollably. My body felt raw, clammy, and fresh. Like a newborn youngling.
By now I could notice how absolutely blinded I was, how asphyxiated I was, and how terribly I wanted to be some place dry and warm and clean.
Do not worry, Reshmi. You’ll be fine.
I coughed as I was slowly lifted out of the slime. I could hear the familiar sounds of wings buzzing and voices clicking as I was set down on a soft, spongy surface.
Reshmi, it is I: Swaran. You’ll be back to normal soon. Your impaired senses are a side effect of the fresh body. Do not worry; you will soon be back to normal.
My eyes slowly began to adjust to the light, and I could begin to feel my limbs again. I shook violently as I lay dripping on the floor. Swaran’s long face was close in front of mine, smiling. But now, I remembered: a needle piercing a wall of threads; a song, like two silk strings gliding along the other; a chrysalis, gleaming gold; and his long, shining face…
***
A few hours later and I was beginning to adjust to my first new body. This one was much softer, and seemed slightly shorter than before. My wings felt stretchy, unlike their previously weathered texture. Anything was better than the last few days in my previous body, though, and I did feel young again.
My mind was on other things, however. What I had seen while my consciousness wandered in the place between life and death. Was it normal to have such visions? I couldn’t recall having heard of such a thing. They were blurry and unclear, but they seemed… valid. Would it be wise to share something such as that?
It is time.
Ah, yes, of course… the time of metamorphoses had almost arrived. I began to fly down towards the center of the hive, the Queen’s hall. The tunnels were round and twisting, and looked to be made of red and orange threads. They twisted and spiraled through the hive, as though they were carved through a ball of silk.
I reached the hall, in which every hive member was gathering. The room was large and open, and pillars of silken threads framed Queen Amar’s throne. She was beautiful and of great size, a worthy sight to behold. Her eyes were dark and shining, like steaming coal, and her torso was long and elegant. Her skin was the brightest honey-yellow, and shining gold embroidered her royal countenance. A large, dark sack lay behind her – adorned with her resting wings – full of eggs.
Dear children, she began. Her thoughts were piercing, as though they were my very own. They were clear, pure, and seemed to emanate from within – as opposed to the distant, echoic thoughts of others. The time of metamorphoses is nigh upon us. This marks the start of much reflection, inner focus, and change.
At this point, Queen Amar beckoned to the two younglings beside her. They were small and grey, without much shape or color, and their backs were bare of wings.
These two younglings represent the changes we all must face. Indeed, the changes have already begun to affect us all. Her thoughts saddened in tone. The creation and use of naveen, lifeless bodies created for the sole purpose of inhabitation, has become a necessity. With only two new minds having been dawned since the last cocoon, it has been with much grief and uncertainty that we have come to use such an artificial means of reproduction. And yet, we have little choice.
But, we must look to the future. During this time of metamorphoses, these younglings will temporarily become one with the hive, as they journey into adulthood. They must find their path, as we each have. As you all know, the nest changes during this period. It accepts these new family members, and adapts accordingly. The hive will soon be enclosed as it spins a cocoon around us, allowing us each to contemplate our own role in this family, without outside distractions. Thus, no other hives will be able to trade or contact us. Let this be a time in which we pray that the future will bring hope and abundance.
It is time.
The floor began to warp beneath the two younglings. Long threads of silk unraveled from the ground, twisting writhing around their feet. Slowly, their bodies were engulfed, as they were buried deeper and deeper inside the hive.
Now go.
Every member of the swarm began to drift away, towards their cells. A distant hissing and slithering sound could be heard as the hive wrapped around itself, closing off all passage. I meandered back to my cell, which was a small, enclosed hole, surrounded by hundreds like it. I curled up and closed my eyes, as the last few traces of members found their way back.
Swaran, has anyone been known to experience something while their consciousness transfers to another body?
Not that I’ve ever heard of. Why do you ask? Did something happen to you after you died?
No, of course not. I was just curious. Are you busy tomorrow?
I’m still completing that job Queen Amar assigned me.
Oh, right, of course. Sleep well, then.
You too, Reshmi.
***
A long shaft carefully bore into my silk, so softly, so intimately; like a tongue extending to meet another. More and more entered, all ever so gently. I could feel the saliva, so warm and pliable. Yet it began to sting... it burned, it ate, it devoured. They deceived me. They ***** me. Forcefully they began to seep through... they entered inside of me... get out... get out...
Get out... get out... ge– what? I wasn’t... I’m... what was that? I felt as if I were something else. Like I was in another body. But it wasn’t a normal body. I felt like I was... a mother. A nest.
What’s happening? The hive groaning.
Moaning aching writhing crying
There’s something odd on the surface
I hurt so much when it will end will it ever stop when will they leave when will they leave me alone get them out get them out get them out!
I think they’re coming. I think they’re here.
Have they really? But it can’t possible.
It can’t be!
Can it?
Can it be possible?
My head... so much at once... too many voices. My head was ringing, I felt like metal was vibrating inside my skull. Pounding. Beating. Crashing.
And then it stopped.
All along the wall of the hive, long, hook-like limbs began to birth from the silk. They were jet-black, and covered in slime. Like a new-born baby. They seeped through, like water in a filter. And eventually, you could see wings, and faces, each adorned with eyes made of the darkest black one could imagine.
GET THEM OUT!
They pushed through the wall, bleeding and shaking, and began to swarm like locusts into the nest. They were Aurangzeb. Long wings spread out like wet spider webs, and they began to ravage any and all of the swarm in their way.
I shot from my cell as a cloud of them poured farther down through the nest, like a channel of water. They were going to the heart of the hive. They were going to kill the queen.
My fresh wings pushed the air strong and steady, as I flew through smaller tunnels down underneath the Aurangzeb.
Swaran, is the Queen alive?
Yes.
I shot through a small hole, barely wide enough to fit my body, and crept into the hall. A small army began to barricade the entrances, as many gathered to battle the Aurangzeb. We would have a steady stream of warriors, all experienced and seasoned; but naveen bodies were tender and soft, like raw meat, and were not best suited for battle.
Reshmi, began the Queen. I knew it was her. I could feel her. I will need you to accompany Swaran, on his suggestion. It is of utmost importance. Do you understand?
I do.
I flew down to the Queen’s throne, and she beckoned me to the ground, near where the younglings and gone into their cocoons.
Slowly, the threads wrapped around my legs, like a knitter knits threads into a weave. It engulfed me; it joined one with me, for a small moment in time. I felt so warm...
And then it began to release me, but this time I was released somewhere else – the air was hotter, like a womb, pulsing. Finally the threads slid off my face and I saw where I was: a large area filled with golden light, like a million suns being traced by strings of clouds and white mountains. It moved with a sense of rhythm, like the beating of a heart – like the sound of life itself. It moved all as one, all in sync, two silk strings gliding along the other in harmony. I found myself surrounded by life, raw and unaltered.
In the distance of this light, was a small object. It was a chrysalis, an Om-cryst, gleaming gold, etched with the most beautiful designs created by nature, created by the creator of nature. It must have been created – anyone who saw it would be sure of that. Each line, each curve, an artist’s vision. It shone so brightly, so perfectly. Life abounded in it.
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
Swaran, it is more than beautiful. It just is.
I know.
He turned and looked at me. His long, shining face, lined with royal turquoise. Those with turquoise were considered the rarest, wisest, and most valuable of all members. It was a beautiful color next to his golden skin, like the vast ocean reaching across a golden sandscape.
This was my mission: to see to the protection of this place. This Om-cryst. The nest is dying, and so are we. It is why our numbers increase so few. This is our life. This is the new us. The nest will soon be reborn again.
But Swaran... the Aurangzeb, they have invaded us. They have come to steal us. To steal our life.
I know, Reshmi, I know. Go, gaze upon the cryst... you will get the answer that you seek.
A reluctantly and whole-heartedly approached it, its life like a fire. I closed my eyes and reached a hand out to feel it.
It was this, this Om-cryst, which spoke to me before I entered a new body. It showed me the future, it channeled my consciousness to that of the dying hive, and it spoke to me and embraced me so intimately, like a baby in its mother’s arms. But why?
To give us life.
But in every other aspect it's a mess and I could have done a lot better, but hey, at least I finished it.
---
Cocoon
Gasp.
My chest lunged out, as if it had been pulled by a hook. A cold, gooey substance clung to every part of my body. I could feel it peel from my face as I convulsed mostly uncontrollably. My body felt raw, clammy, and fresh. Like a newborn youngling.
By now I could notice how absolutely blinded I was, how asphyxiated I was, and how terribly I wanted to be some place dry and warm and clean.
Do not worry, Reshmi. You’ll be fine.
I coughed as I was slowly lifted out of the slime. I could hear the familiar sounds of wings buzzing and voices clicking as I was set down on a soft, spongy surface.
Reshmi, it is I: Swaran. You’ll be back to normal soon. Your impaired senses are a side effect of the fresh body. Do not worry; you will soon be back to normal.
My eyes slowly began to adjust to the light, and I could begin to feel my limbs again. I shook violently as I lay dripping on the floor. Swaran’s long face was close in front of mine, smiling. But now, I remembered: a needle piercing a wall of threads; a song, like two silk strings gliding along the other; a chrysalis, gleaming gold; and his long, shining face…
***
A few hours later and I was beginning to adjust to my first new body. This one was much softer, and seemed slightly shorter than before. My wings felt stretchy, unlike their previously weathered texture. Anything was better than the last few days in my previous body, though, and I did feel young again.
My mind was on other things, however. What I had seen while my consciousness wandered in the place between life and death. Was it normal to have such visions? I couldn’t recall having heard of such a thing. They were blurry and unclear, but they seemed… valid. Would it be wise to share something such as that?
It is time.
Ah, yes, of course… the time of metamorphoses had almost arrived. I began to fly down towards the center of the hive, the Queen’s hall. The tunnels were round and twisting, and looked to be made of red and orange threads. They twisted and spiraled through the hive, as though they were carved through a ball of silk.
I reached the hall, in which every hive member was gathering. The room was large and open, and pillars of silken threads framed Queen Amar’s throne. She was beautiful and of great size, a worthy sight to behold. Her eyes were dark and shining, like steaming coal, and her torso was long and elegant. Her skin was the brightest honey-yellow, and shining gold embroidered her royal countenance. A large, dark sack lay behind her – adorned with her resting wings – full of eggs.
Dear children, she began. Her thoughts were piercing, as though they were my very own. They were clear, pure, and seemed to emanate from within – as opposed to the distant, echoic thoughts of others. The time of metamorphoses is nigh upon us. This marks the start of much reflection, inner focus, and change.
At this point, Queen Amar beckoned to the two younglings beside her. They were small and grey, without much shape or color, and their backs were bare of wings.
These two younglings represent the changes we all must face. Indeed, the changes have already begun to affect us all. Her thoughts saddened in tone. The creation and use of naveen, lifeless bodies created for the sole purpose of inhabitation, has become a necessity. With only two new minds having been dawned since the last cocoon, it has been with much grief and uncertainty that we have come to use such an artificial means of reproduction. And yet, we have little choice.
But, we must look to the future. During this time of metamorphoses, these younglings will temporarily become one with the hive, as they journey into adulthood. They must find their path, as we each have. As you all know, the nest changes during this period. It accepts these new family members, and adapts accordingly. The hive will soon be enclosed as it spins a cocoon around us, allowing us each to contemplate our own role in this family, without outside distractions. Thus, no other hives will be able to trade or contact us. Let this be a time in which we pray that the future will bring hope and abundance.
It is time.
The floor began to warp beneath the two younglings. Long threads of silk unraveled from the ground, twisting writhing around their feet. Slowly, their bodies were engulfed, as they were buried deeper and deeper inside the hive.
Now go.
Every member of the swarm began to drift away, towards their cells. A distant hissing and slithering sound could be heard as the hive wrapped around itself, closing off all passage. I meandered back to my cell, which was a small, enclosed hole, surrounded by hundreds like it. I curled up and closed my eyes, as the last few traces of members found their way back.
Swaran, has anyone been known to experience something while their consciousness transfers to another body?
Not that I’ve ever heard of. Why do you ask? Did something happen to you after you died?
No, of course not. I was just curious. Are you busy tomorrow?
I’m still completing that job Queen Amar assigned me.
Oh, right, of course. Sleep well, then.
You too, Reshmi.
***
A long shaft carefully bore into my silk, so softly, so intimately; like a tongue extending to meet another. More and more entered, all ever so gently. I could feel the saliva, so warm and pliable. Yet it began to sting... it burned, it ate, it devoured. They deceived me. They ***** me. Forcefully they began to seep through... they entered inside of me... get out... get out...
Get out... get out... ge– what? I wasn’t... I’m... what was that? I felt as if I were something else. Like I was in another body. But it wasn’t a normal body. I felt like I was... a mother. A nest.
What’s happening? The hive groaning.
Moaning aching writhing crying
There’s something odd on the surface
I hurt so much when it will end will it ever stop when will they leave when will they leave me alone get them out get them out get them out!
I think they’re coming. I think they’re here.
Have they really? But it can’t possible.
It can’t be!
Can it?
Can it be possible?
My head... so much at once... too many voices. My head was ringing, I felt like metal was vibrating inside my skull. Pounding. Beating. Crashing.
And then it stopped.
All along the wall of the hive, long, hook-like limbs began to birth from the silk. They were jet-black, and covered in slime. Like a new-born baby. They seeped through, like water in a filter. And eventually, you could see wings, and faces, each adorned with eyes made of the darkest black one could imagine.
GET THEM OUT!
They pushed through the wall, bleeding and shaking, and began to swarm like locusts into the nest. They were Aurangzeb. Long wings spread out like wet spider webs, and they began to ravage any and all of the swarm in their way.
I shot from my cell as a cloud of them poured farther down through the nest, like a channel of water. They were going to the heart of the hive. They were going to kill the queen.
My fresh wings pushed the air strong and steady, as I flew through smaller tunnels down underneath the Aurangzeb.
Swaran, is the Queen alive?
Yes.
I shot through a small hole, barely wide enough to fit my body, and crept into the hall. A small army began to barricade the entrances, as many gathered to battle the Aurangzeb. We would have a steady stream of warriors, all experienced and seasoned; but naveen bodies were tender and soft, like raw meat, and were not best suited for battle.
Reshmi, began the Queen. I knew it was her. I could feel her. I will need you to accompany Swaran, on his suggestion. It is of utmost importance. Do you understand?
I do.
I flew down to the Queen’s throne, and she beckoned me to the ground, near where the younglings and gone into their cocoons.
Slowly, the threads wrapped around my legs, like a knitter knits threads into a weave. It engulfed me; it joined one with me, for a small moment in time. I felt so warm...
And then it began to release me, but this time I was released somewhere else – the air was hotter, like a womb, pulsing. Finally the threads slid off my face and I saw where I was: a large area filled with golden light, like a million suns being traced by strings of clouds and white mountains. It moved with a sense of rhythm, like the beating of a heart – like the sound of life itself. It moved all as one, all in sync, two silk strings gliding along the other in harmony. I found myself surrounded by life, raw and unaltered.
In the distance of this light, was a small object. It was a chrysalis, an Om-cryst, gleaming gold, etched with the most beautiful designs created by nature, created by the creator of nature. It must have been created – anyone who saw it would be sure of that. Each line, each curve, an artist’s vision. It shone so brightly, so perfectly. Life abounded in it.
It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
Swaran, it is more than beautiful. It just is.
I know.
He turned and looked at me. His long, shining face, lined with royal turquoise. Those with turquoise were considered the rarest, wisest, and most valuable of all members. It was a beautiful color next to his golden skin, like the vast ocean reaching across a golden sandscape.
This was my mission: to see to the protection of this place. This Om-cryst. The nest is dying, and so are we. It is why our numbers increase so few. This is our life. This is the new us. The nest will soon be reborn again.
But Swaran... the Aurangzeb, they have invaded us. They have come to steal us. To steal our life.
I know, Reshmi, I know. Go, gaze upon the cryst... you will get the answer that you seek.
A reluctantly and whole-heartedly approached it, its life like a fire. I closed my eyes and reached a hand out to feel it.
It was this, this Om-cryst, which spoke to me before I entered a new body. It showed me the future, it channeled my consciousness to that of the dying hive, and it spoke to me and embraced me so intimately, like a baby in its mother’s arms. But why?
To give us life.
I'm bumping all of the "unfinished" stories so that authors remember to let me know if a story is withdrawn.