Perception

A forest winds in mysterious ways, a path splits and disappears, a bridge falls away into mist, as the world erupts in tears.

From a young age, I knew my power and knew I was not “normal.” My parents taught me to hide it. To hide the fact that when I looked into their eyes mine changed to imitate them, and that when I stared at strangers from the window for too long I wound up in their form. As a society of metamorphs, it was not uncommon for children to change, but what was uncommon was that I didn’t change into an animal. The world was defined by hierarchies of morphs depending on the strength of your soul and your soul was judged by the animal you turned into. Of course, doves were at the top, followed by hummingbirds and swans and all of those “pure” souls who decided one day to change the world and put themselves on top. Next were their protectors; tigers, lions, bears, alligators, basically any one of those fierce spirits that would lay their life down to save our society's “purity.” By changing into other humans, I demonstrated a soul of craftiness and deception. A purely human soul is the most distrusted kind — other than a dragon. I lived a childhood full of deceit, hiding my soul, hiding my identity, and pretending I was unable to shift. As I reached adulthood it became harder and harder to hide until one day I slipped and changed and the world turned on me.

The strangest thing about purity is it’s defined in its essence as good. But good is a perception by the people who create it and in that sense, it is neither good nor bad — it simply is. Unfortunately, society is full of philanthropists who see and advocate for good, for change, for honesty, and truth. When they see something or someone that is believed to be the antithesis of what they stand for, they attack, and it is seen as good. Because it’s not all really good or bad, is it?

It’s simply perception.

Life trickles eternally, time passing and feeling free, but quickly the sand begins to slow, taking with it all the flow.

A fun fact about life is that the more you live, the more you regret it. I learned this quickly, though only after I realized aging was just an option for me. As what society called a “changeling,” I was able to change both my looks and my internal state to become healthier, stronger, and essentially immortal. However, what people don’t realize as they age is that they don’t want more time, they want to go back in time. Back to a place that is simpler, where ignorance is bliss, where growing up is exciting and new, and where innocence is all that is pure. So that is why I walked into the forest, a waddling toddler to the outside world and a broken old man within: to escape the realms of society's cruelty for one blissful moment or, hopefully, for eternity.

The forest lies on the outskirts of the suburbs around our city, beautiful and pristine, the green leaves complementing the silver sheen of metal and glass; the short bushes contrasting the height of skyscrapers and apartments, each one neater than the next. Once coming into technology, society progressed quickly into a world focused on greener policies, open-minded theorists, and democracy built on honesty and transparency. It was a very large contrast to the dictators that had once ruled and the fuel burned that almost killed the world Yet despite the new bureaucracy and all of these improvements, I was still ostracized for my magic.

Leaves crunched under my feet as I walked along, a toddler with a purpose must look fierce, my eyes glimmered with a humor long forgotten before I remembered my purpose. I took one look back into the city I had helped to curate. The center of the city stood above the other buildings, a golden castle peak high above the silver skyscrapers. They just brushed the sky, while the castle slashed through it and conquered the clouds. Green seeped through the architecture, as sustainable cities had become popular after the Renewal. It truly was beautiful, something you wanted to wake up and see every day…and I hated it. Beauty hides the most grievous offenses.

I turned and walked further, browns and greens covering my view as I wandered deeper into the woods. My tiny feet held no harm, yet no protection if I was to encounter something, but I welcomed the thought of that. I was tired. Tired of living in a world where people only see what they choose, where an open mind means nothing more than adapting a viewpoint to what society views as good and worthwhile. They decided a long time ago that I was worth nothing. That me being different meant I was not to be touched. They watched as I made no friends, as I became lonely and alone from the world. They sat in their castle and laughed as I was forced to be humiliated day in and day out. My confidence was lost, and my value in life was lost, but I still kept searching for someone out there who felt the same. And there I was, having found no one, hoping the forest would take me to peace at last. I began to walk again, contemplating each leaf, rock, or branch that I saw. Each one vital to the ecosystem, none left behind, none disrupted from their natural course until it was disturbed by my touch. The sun reached its pinnacle in the sky and I decided it was time to rest. I sat on a stump, feet dangling below, and stared at the blue infinity above me. My eyes leaked tears I hadn’t released in an eternity of life, for I spent all my time trying to find an answer, trying to fit in just to get nowhere only to be stuck once again. The tree stump is small so I shifted my body smaller; I shifted into my two-year-old form and curled into a ball, crying and contemplating and wishing I was young again. Being young I had no worries, had no power, had no knowledge of the world and its curiosities. Being young I had ignorance and a wiped slate of my being. I sobbed into the wood, its rough jagged edges pressing into my face. Sleep comes quickly when you are tired of life and it swallowed me whole as the tears lessened.

Seeing all of reality, a sunken stone a fallen tree, all that it seems to be is a new leaf to turn over to become free.

I awoke in a strange home. It was antiquated, with a fire stove and an oven. I had not seen an oven in decades. As my eyes blurred and I blinked to clear the cobwebs I noticed a green tail sticking out of a hammock next to me. I scrambled backward, startled as it began to move. Its head stuck up and fixed me with a cold stare; ice blue eyes gazed into my soul reaching to find me. And then he shifted.

“If I knew you weren’t a baby I wouldn’t have saved you” he sniffed and walked towards the stove. I quickly shifted into my favorite age, my bones cracking into a teenage body, my height growing to a bit under two meters.

“You’re a dragon!” I gaped at the man. His long green hair swished as he turned around, annoyance glowing in his eyes.

“Obviously,” he replied. “And you’re what. A human?”

“I’m a changeling is what they call me” I fixed him with a glare of my own. “What were you even going to do with a child?”

“It’s lonely in these woods, boy, and I could have used some company,” he said gruffly. “You can leave whenever you want.”

“No. I left for a reason. I’m not going back. Will you let me stay for a while?” he gave a sigh but heard the hoarseness in my throat. When he looked back at me I could see he understood.

“Fine. You can go get some firewood, boy. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“You know I’m older than you. Stop calling me boy.” I replied walking out the door to find some branches.

“Okay, grandpa” was the last thing I heard of the grumpy old man's voice before I reached the woodpile and I realized: this was the first time I had smiled in a century.

Over time we quickly became friends. His name was Grayson and although dragons were known for power, wealth, and good fortune, those in charge had taken a different interpretation of his soul. They had deemed him the antichrist — an evil, fire-breathing heathen who was only there to devour souls — and they quickly banished him from the city. As we talked I learned he had been eleven years old when he was kicked out into the woods and now, although his hair still burned bright green as a symbol of his dragon, he had lived alone in the woods for fifty two years. I regaled him with tales of my life, each beating I had faced in societies over time, and how I thought each one would be different. We bonded over our isolation and soon became akin to brothers although Grayson still called me Grandpa.

“My name is Liam, you know” I drawled to him one day.

“I know,” he said simply. “I just like the reminder that I’m not as old as you.”

As we reached a year of living with each other he finally came up to me one day and asked: “Why were you in the woods that day? Why were you lost? I don’t understand how someone of your caliber — your strength — could succumb to the forest.” And I knew he would understand and would still love me if I told him the truth because he had been lost once too and the forest had saved him as well.

“I have lived for three centuries and each one has passed like torture. Time is not a gift when you have too much of it. As I grew older I was exposed to atrocities I had never seen. I saw people murdered because their animal was too crafty, I saw people like me hunted for their humanity. The doves and the pure defined at an early age what was good and although it has widened substantially the ground rules remained the same. As empires burned, I stood by with hope that the next one would be more accepting. I have hoped for far too long and far too much.” I sighed, feeling an ache in my bones as I remembered my life and its horrors. “This technological world was my last true hope. They accepted all, promised a better world, they even changed laws and created a green future full of rights for underprivileged and food for those unable. Yet still they see me as a threat. Still their beliefs and discrimination have not changed. As I fought with them for freedom they looked at me and saw a means to an end. An end I would not be a part of. And that is why I lost hope at last. Because my value had been reduced to little more than a grain of sand despite all my efforts.” I finished staring into space. A chill rocked my body as I recalled the bloody battles I’d fought. All of them were in vain. All of them a blip in history erased by the winner to perceive me as evil. Grayson stared at me with sorrow in his eyes. The wrinkles on his face bunched together in a frown as he contemplated my words.

“Well, then they are the fools. They are the evil, not you.” He gazed out the window before looking back at me, anger simmering beneath his skin like a red-hot fire. “Worth is not determined by others. It cannot be reached through others. It can only be picked away slowly over time if you let it take you. You have lived far longer than I and did not let it crush you until recently. That in itself is a feat you should not be ashamed of.” He took my hand and leaned in to whisper “Let me tell you a secret. No one in that world out there is happy. They are stuck pretending in their suits that honesty and purity are the only options, the only way to be happy. But that is utter hooey! Without them here to judge me and tell me how to live my life, I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been. If that doesn’t tell you how much they know about the world I don’t know what will!” He exclaimed the last remark with a flurry of hand movements like he was about to cast a spell. “You and me Liam. We proved ‘em wrong. We might be demons in their eyes but here” He cast his arms wide to encapsulate the whole forest, gazing around his shack. “Here we are free.”

Although younger than me, Grayson had learned the qualms of the world and chosen to take the ropes his own way. Belief is the strongest thing. It’s what takes our human side and turns it into discrimination, deceit, and opinionated ignorance. My personal belief had been warped by society, but Grayson showed me that the strongest belief to have was in myself. So I sat in that shack as the light dimmed and the fireflies emerged. I sat in that shack and smiled. Because now? Now I was finally free.