Receiving the fated transmissionimages and writing
— by @d-pend —
Receiving the fated transmission
May it be known that the following communication is an authentic account from the life of I, Ynvic Dord. I have inscribed it upon a shining black mirror tablet with myndlazer.
There I was on that fated day — sitting in the middle of the Yjonra Plant Nursery's sacred wire-array. How long ago it seems! And yet... time has little meaning to me now. It had been a quiet, restful day of contemplation — until that strange quantum transmission pierced my being from such an inconceivable distance across the Cosmos, flooding me with grotesque and beautiful imagery.
After I received and insperienced that rare homeward transmission from my long-lost countryman Relf Milm, I lifted a couple of long, gnarled fingers to either side of my temples and massaged them briefly — as if to dispel the unsettling vision of a barbaric planet which became in an instant so real for me: though I had never visited this place called Earth myself, nor knew another besides Relf who had.
For Vekkians like myself, this Earth was of little consequence — though certainly an interesting backwater world with a noted melodramatic flair to their way of living and creating. I sat and thought another moment. It suddenly struck me that despite our high opinion of ourselves, Vek itself would be of little interest to another planet much further advanced towards total Sublimation into Yod's Great Infinity. Then, with a shock nearly electric, I was astonished to think that Vek was literally nothing to even these Earthlings, who were not yet to a sufficient stage of evolution to be allowed to know of the mighty Galactic Federation — let alone the Supercluster Council — let alone the Beings who Sit!
This thought impelled me to action, though not of a particularly similar kind. I arose from my rumination chamber and passed through one of six exits spaced equidistantly around the sacred wire-array in whose symmetrical center I had just been seated. As I departed, so did its vivifying glow. Through a brief, dim tunnel — I was now in my horticulture paradise. I began to pour myndwater from the center of my forehead into seedling-cradles in fine strands. The gem-studded gauntlet on my left hand pulsed subtly as I channeled the energy of Hyas-Vaern-Shi'yon to manifest myndwater with the proper nutriment composition to nurture each exotic seedling.
Though I was a man of many offices, few pleased me as viscerally as my assignment as head gardener of the Yjonra Cluster Plant Nursery. We collected, germinated, coaxed, pampered, and brought to verdant triumph literally tens of thousands of exotic plants from all across Vek — and beyond, whenever we could get our hands on extraplanetary varieties.
The purpose of our experiments, first and foremost, was a very Vekkian love for all livings things — particularly those of us who were students of the Hyas-Vaern-Shi'yon aetheric strand of energy work. To make this entry accessible to those unschooled in these matters, I may say that this aetheric strand concerns the generative capacity, the heart, and the higher wisdom of the mind and may be understood as a symbiosis between the three. Those, like myself, devoted to this Strand often develop a very earthy green-brown tinge to the skin along with vibrant blue-green eyes. I liked to think that these features complimented my white-aqua hair quite nicely!
Hah...I can not help but make an old man's jest about my faded handsomeness. Excuse my seeming digression — I have been counseled to make my records more comprehensible for posterity, even for those on potentially other worlds entirely (though I must confess I have little idea what relevance the events of my life might constitute for other beings of far-flung stars!) Because of this direction, I am including the more mundane of my thoughts on that day in question.
But let us return now to my precise gardening work. To create and feed myndwater to these seedlings is an extremely complex science, the species we raise being, as they are, so diverse and particular. Even a tiny deviation in nutriment composition, temperature, and molecular spin of the water delivered may stunt or halt their development. I trained for an entire xodule before I was ruled adequate to become the new head gardener of the Yjonra Cluster! [note by editor — a Vekkian xodule is equivalent to approximately 67.3 Earth years.]
This being said, I have been performing the duties of head gardener for three xodules now, and barring strange new, experimental species, I have all formulae quite well memorized. Nay — it is as if I know them so well, I was born with the knowledge of them; that they are event a part now of my very own genetic makeup. I do not require thought to deliver the myndwater any longer; it is as if the plants themselves tell me what they require.
Oh dear, I am so terribly wordy sometimes. Well, I am saying all this so that the reader may not judge me as terribly irresponsible when I admit that I continued to think of this bizarre planet Earth as I was performing my delicate watering operations this morning! Though I am generally in rigorous control of all my faculties, it seemed Relf's transmission and accompanying images had somehow infected me with some kind of esoteric virus!
You see, I could not help but contemplate the extreme frailty of the humanoid beings that inhabited that planet as depicted by Relf, and make a connection to the near-helpless plants I was in the process of lovingly nurturing. The difference was that these humans seemed to see their weakness as a strength, sacrificing their true strength through ignorance. The plants I cultivated were not intelligent enough be ignorant, though several of them — nearing sentience through our aid — likely had greater intelligence quotients than the most pitiable of the beings Relf had interacted with.
So there I was, comparing seedlings with manlings — when an Inspiration lit flame to the tail of my spine and carried my soul right out of my body!
Pardon this drastic and sudden twist in narrative, but I must confess it was just as shocking to yours truly to find myself one moment an old man, diligently if somewhat distractedly performing my mundane duties, and the very next shuttling up a dimensional tube to behold a flaming portal of rainbow fire through which I was ushered and debriefed before promptly being tasked to record this narrative!
What did poor Welmer and Rhod and Jynn feel when they discovered their poor Master Dord crumpled in the midst of the stoic plantlings, his heart stopped by fate, the floor strewn with substrate and chaotic streams of myndwater? I am not given the Sight to see nor Voice to say. All I know is that one of the kindly Beings who Sit appeared to my discarnate form and kindly led me to this diaphanous writing tablet, where I am to myndpen as accurate an account of my life as I can before — well, it is not given me to know what may come next.
Send my love to all those I left behind at Yjonra. I shall miss you dearly, and perhaps at least one of you shall be able to say the same. Forgive my brusque humor — I cannot seem to give up my sarcastic habit, even in death. I am attaching with this transmission several multidimensional paintings — distorted dreamtime interpretations of the livid scenes Relf broadcasted me from Earth, along with the final vibrant image stamped forever upon my previously virile eyeballs — two particularly lovely seedlings, radiating with the refined energy of Hyas-Vaern-Shi'yon.
Yours in Yod, now and ever —
Received to Vek 8.5.4256 -192 by Channeler Drud Jym
Translated to English from Vek by Scribeswoman Xirlil Dian
Writing and images synthesized and compiled
by Daniel Pendergraft for Proof-of-Brain
Community on the HIVE Blockchain
published on September 19, 2021.
Writing is fully original
and can be considered a free-written
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