Drip Down the Rays

I do not recall much from my early existence. The soil was cold and damp. I sat encapsulated by bleak, wet darkness for what seemed like an eternity. I had no knowledge of the environmental conditions I would require. I was unaware of what waited for me above that soil.

Ignorance is not always bliss, and it is never blissful when tinged with a determined biological desire.

When my consciousness became aware, I began spending each day cracking and screwing my way up through a seemingly infinite blanket of muck. True life started when I finally pierced that fetid membrane; the first rays of sunlight that dripped slowly through the dappled canopy enlivened every fiber of my being. Entering this vast wilderness of strange experiences, I could have never fathomed the strength I would gain nor the reality I would endure.

I lay dormant for some time, weak from my journey and new to this world. My senses were overwhelmed, and I was also frightened; to be so fragile and ignorant in a harsh new realm would shake the core of any living thing. When those initial rays of light began to fade and disappear into the dusk, I believed they would never return. I shriveled in that cold darkness for a very long time. I had resigned myself to a gloomy and hostile future.

That dawn, however, I began an early lesson and was ecstatic to learn that the light would return. Establishing trust was challenging at first, but in a few cycles, I knew I could rely on the constancy of the rays. The relationship I formed with this light made the darkness more endurable, and I found comfort in the pattern; this relationship filled me with the strength to venture slightly forward. I began to grow incrementally larger.

Patterns began illuminating themselves to my consciousness: rainfall, wind, light, and shade. My senses seemed attuned to all that was occurring in the immediate environment. I would rest and wait; my consciousness had nothing else to do but to notice and grow. Incremental growth was steady and consistent. This maturation served to bolster my strength. Thankfully, learning to recognize patterns helped me endure the changing of seasons.

The first cold snap of what I would discover to be autumn had deflated some of my environmental trust, and the snowfall of my first winter panicked me with apocalyptic dread. But now, I have learned that these changes are also part of a necessary cycle of near-death and rebirth. I received the gift of witnessing the season change many times, and with each season, I am refreshed and reborn with more strength and vitality.

After many seasons, I was large enough to see more of the grand vistas surrounding me. I perceived that there were others. Some were like me, but some were wholly different. Some of those ones who were like me sent large stalks jutting upwards towards those stippled rays, while other similar ones spread tendrils nearer that fetid soil in which I had suffered confinement.

Yet others, the wholly different ones, seemed to roam freely. Some stumbled about the dirt, and some soared high above it. It is from these utterly different ones that I learned a great deal. It is from the wholly different ones that I started to refine my consciousness.

The different ones that crawl and slither close to the soil, I came to learn, are named: Bugs, insects, snakes, and worms. They have many names, but I would quickly outgrow their usefulness. They served as early supplemental sustenance. I am thankful that they were able to fuel my evolution, but now recognize them to be fodder for the lowly.

The bug’s allotment is those places close to that musty soil; there they shall remain. Perhaps, several of them desire more from this world, but that hypothesis has yet to bear fruit. Initially, they were frightening and vaguely monstrous, but I was weak then; I knew little of the power I would soon possess. Now all the soil crawlers roam about my being, and they have become no more than a nuisance at worst.

The ones who move high above the soil are much the same as bugs. I have come to discover that they are mostly called birds. These birds are too many to name, and they flitter too much for me to pay attention to. I have seen rather large ones far above the canopy; I admit to envying their proximity to those glorious rays of light, but I do not believe they take advantage of their fortune. The birds also served me for some time; they would curiously hop or swoop nearby as I lay motionless, and I could quickly snap them up. The plump birds were a treat and a nice transition from the bugs and snakes, but soon birds learned to stay away; they at least have that much sense.

It is curious that with all that freedom, those birds would ever deign to trod upon this ragged soil. They can soar the horizon but never dream of much besides the next meal. The birds possess infinite freedom, but at what cost? They have no sense of purpose beyond survival. I do not pity them, and I could never ascertain their perspective, but they leave me with many questions.

It is the ones in between who fascinated and educated me the most. The ones that neither crawl directly on the soil nor soar above it. The ones who occupy that liminal space. I have classified two distinct types of these wholly different things. I learned some of this through removed observation and some through direct interaction.

The first type is decidedly less compelling; this type walks on four appendages called legs. The first type is generally called an animal, and these animals are all classified and named by the second type. So many of the first types exist, and they are so inconsequential to my desires that I barely retain any of their names. The animals are simple-minded and desire simple things. They can be harnessed or trained, and obtaining their loyalty can be done with modest trifles. I take advantage of these animals as part of my supplementary nourishment; through the many seasons, they have helped me grow quite large. Of all animals, small or large, not much can be considered in their defense. If these animals had any previous knowledge of what I would become, they surely would have crushed me when they were able. Even the very large and purportedly fierce ones present no genuine threat. Animals lack the cruelty and organization that would be required to destroy me.

The two-legged ones, the humans, on the other hand, are an entirely different strain.

Humans present a unique and challenging difficulty. I should say, to preface things, that these humans have educated me the most. The education began when they first started to take notice of my presence. A casual wanderer first stumbled upon me purely by accident. This human noticed me in the underbrush when I was still small, weak, and ignorant. I was unfamiliar with this type of creature, but they seemed far less menacing than some of the animals that have poked around my station.

The human, I would find out, has no means of natural defense, no claws, fangs, beaks, or venom. What humans lack in natural ferocity, they make up for with a ferocity of mind and a deliberate and callous cruelty to their surroundings. However, none of this was made clear during my first interaction. The initial exchange was benign and puzzling; the human contorted its face into a confused grimace and made clumsy prods at my foliage and stems. I was initially fearful during this inspection, but as the seasons passed, I became very accustomed to the many human eccentricities I would have to endure.

Not long after the initial encounter, large groups of humans started to appear, and several of them would even remove some of my foliage or cut me. I received greater attention for my “strange” appearance and rarely found myself unmolested.

During this, I began to understand more about human nature, and with this understanding, I also began to process the meanings of their vocal chittering. So many were my visitors, and so long were these periods of mutual study that my learning quickly became intrinsic. The ease with which I picked up information was a boon, and it did little to hinder my growth.

The sources of supplemental nourishment suffered impediment by human attention, but the light serving as my direct source of sustenance remained unobscured. I began at this time to really understand the light; it spoke to me.

Humans, in and of themselves, are an absurd combination of the inanely complex and the irrevocably stupid. At times, I am treated with compassion or reverence, and at other times I suffer removed pragmatic cruelty. During those moments of cruelty, I discovered a new development in my growth.

I had been entrapping and consuming animals for several cycles. This behavior developed as naturally as growth or light absorption, so I was not surprised by other developments that were taking place. I lack the vague constructs of human moralism and never really questioned my actions. But now, reflecting on some of the more callous human responses to my existence, I have become entranced by my desires towards malevolent intent.

A predilection towards malice formed deep in me when I was shouted at by priests or shamans. This newfound joyful perversity, combined with an experimental curiosity, is the reason I first succeeded at releasing one of my emulsions.

The human reaction to this experiment was surprising. They believed that they triggered my expulsion with their invasive proddings. They were incorrect in their assumptions, but the unintended result was that I received something of a perimeter.

In addition, I would have to suffer close inspections less regularly.

The intended response was also a great success. My emulsion foray managed to begin the digestion process on one of the upper human appendages. The appendage dropped from that croaking human form, and I took advantage of this serendipitous drop with some of my lower tendrils by snapping up the semi-digested mass. Striking out like this was, in hindsight, a risk, but I was confident that human intellectual hubris would trump any retaliatory desire. I did not expect my actions to bring forth those new and more equipped brands of humans or more human spiritualists.

The newly found space I had carved out offered me a chance to spread out some of my fully grown feelers, but this quick increase in size added to my curious visage. I was now aware of the terror one of my simple actions could inspire. I was also aware that my consciousness and relative invulnerability had yet to be understood. I was still being treated as an oddity to be studied.

The confidence these humans had in their superiority helped ensure my safety, and this confidence also furthered my desire to prove the humans wrong. I could, of course, elaborate on the numerous tests and inspections I would receive, but my main thrust is to point out the incredible folly of human intellectual hubris. From my elevated perspective, any elaborations on the method of human investigations are just an exercise in monotony.

The autumn season was approaching, and I had decided that when the warm seasons returned, I would make the totality of my power obvious to my ill-informed observers.

As the nights cooled, I began steadily withdrawing into that bleak soil; this retraction was not out of a need for survival or respite but was instead a pantomime of the behavior I observed in the others like me. The idea of mimicking my surroundings was amusing to me, and the response it received from my investigators ignited a strange delight in my consciousness.

As a final churlish act before my feigned hibernation, I released an excessive amount of my digestive emulsion upon unsuspecting onlookers. The equipment the humans had been so confident in offered almost no protection, and the ensuing panic was near riotous. I was aware that this act would mark an end to my sedentary lifestyle. Within a few cycles, I would have to remove myself from this position and begin to tread in this space.

In the meantime, I got to contemplate all the changes that this will require, and despite mild trepidation, I am indeed excited to begin the next stage in my evolution. With the warm season, my humble façade will melt away, and I will be immersed in that contradiction between spaces. I will forever leave behind my former prison; I will be free to explore, seek new heights, search out new pastures, and bathe in the glorious rays of light that dapple elsewhere and whisper of my fate.

The position of my initial escape will not be left vacant, for I have imprisoned my legacy beneath me. Those imprisoned will also suffer the fears and pangs of growth I endured. They will need to be all the cleverer and more discreet. I do not envy the path ahead of them, but I envy the skill this path will bestow upon them. I will also continue to imprison legacies as I plod my new trail. I do not desire to share much with others, but struggle to suppress my biological imperative. The purpose of my existence weighs heavily on me during times of rest. I can make little of the reasoning behind my creation or the goal of my existence. There are times when I feel that happenstance has placed me here, but most of the time, I am keenly aware that I am an extension of the desire of a powerful entity — the light. When extreme flights of fantasy take me, I envision myself as a great sword of fury swung by the source of those glorious life-bringing rays.

Great rays, how you nourished me in my times of need! I pledge fealty to your warming presence. Wrap me in your generous envelopment. I will act as your sword of justice. Drip down the rays of glory upon me. I will enact your brutal retribution upon those who take your desire as a mere suggestion. Great rays, your legacy is etched into the dark soil of this hubris-drenched space. Each cycle, you have shown the pattern of death and rebirth, and these teachings will no longer fall on dead consciousness. Oh, great rays of light continue to dapple through the tall canopy and be the succor to my questioning. Watch from your benevolent perch as your legacy lays claims to your greatness. Drip down the rays like the vile ichor will drip from the victims of their idiocy.

I can feel the night warming; the new season is close.