Spire of the Mind

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. For years long before, it was a place of greenery, of peace, where hominids roamed openly and in abundance. They prospered together, in great palaces carved into the earth and hanging homes woven into the trees. Their technology was massively open and complex, far beyond anything that could be found again or matched in a matter of centuries.

Now the same valley that used to hold such mighty vibrations between all the creatures and their domain, sits scorched by fire, nearly barren to rock and ruin. It needed not be so, but the hominids of the molten valley brought it about when they released the dragons into this world. Before the valley was molten, cragged with rock and ash, dominion of the scaled flying beasts, before they were locked here in our plain, before magic ran abundant, the valley was host to many peoples.

The Sapises people were soft in skin, and generally furless, and they held the capacity to open their minds to the universe, but their system held them in silence. Their unity was in numbers, creating the brilliant society in which they lived through fierce labor, guided by the few organizers. Their fingers were finer, and the smaller muscles more defined, allowing them to design brilliant detail into their creations.

They adorned themselves with artistry sewn into the cloth they wore over their bodies and carved into statues and scribblings on the walls of their homes and buildings that were strewn about the more urban of their settlements. They lived in what they believed to be peace, save for the Niedaner peoples.

The Sapises teach their children that the Niedaners are vicious creatures, covered in wiry fur, thick in follicle yet sparse on the skin. Their faces are wide and flat, their noses molding into their foreheads and nearly stretching down to their chin. Their ears are leathery and point outward from their faces. They are horrifying and seek nothing but blood, keeping to the deep dwellings of the Earth. They hold nothing as sacred, totally lacking ability of the concept of symbolism.

At least that is what T’halis was told as a child. Their taller, peach fuzzed ears twitched at the sounds around them, as countless teachers and instructors attempted to capture their attention along with the rest of the classes full of rambunctious children.

T’halis grew up with this teaching in mind. It always seeming a little strange, since the city folk interacted consistently with Pucks, Wongali, and Deniso peoples of neighboring areas of the valley, all having slightly different features and bone structures, skin tones, and eye colors. One of T’halis’ best friends was a Wongali. Their people were tall and lanky, with only four fingers on each hand, and longer faces stretching outward of their necks. If these two could be friends, and if all four peoples could live together, they even lived in some form of harmony with the various unenlightened animals in the valley, how could the Niedaners possibly be all that different?

“Have you ever seen one?” T’halis asked.

Yung, T’halis’ Wongali friend, scoffed.

“What?”

“How would I have ever possibly seen a Niedaner?” Yung asked, eyebrows raised.

T’halis stammered, “I… I don’t know. Maybe you have.”

“No one’s seen them. Not in a while.” Yung moved a piece on the Dogo board, taking one of T’halis’ spires.

“I heard Mimi’s seen one.”

“That stupid little Puck?”

T’halis flicked their ears at that remark. “Yeah. She said they live here, just like we do.” They moved a piece on the Dogo board.

“Sure,” Yung snorted. “We just can’t see them.”

T’halis took a deep breath as they watched Yung make his move.

“I don’t know, maybe they do.”

“Not possible,” Yung shot back. “No way they wouldn’t be seen. What? Are they stealing stale bread at night? Living in the aqueducts? Or perhaps they’re under your bed.”

“I’m not a child,” T’halis scalded, their ears sinching downwards. “I was talking with Mimi, and she said she’d been out of the city.”

“And? Plenty of folk do that.”

“She said she’d ingested Panal,” T’halis leaned in, nearly messing up the pieces of the board game.

“Great, another druggie,” Yung said. “Stop that, you’re not going to get away with cheating. Especially not with some dumb little story about Mimi the Puck taking Panal.” He shooed T’halis off the board.

“Why do you have to keep bringing up the fact that she’s a Puck?”

“She is. It doesn’t matter.”

“If it doesn’t matter, why do you do it?”

“Just… Play the cursed game. It’s your move.”

T’halis smiled internally. It was their belief that no sub-species were greater or lesser than another hominid.

“Did Mimi even take Panal?” Yung asked.

T’halis looked up to see a glint in Yung’s eyes that betrayed the stoicism on his face.

“She did,” they said. “She said she’s been doing it for a little while now and that the stories are true. It opened her mind and her soul. It was like old magic to reach her to another plain of existence. Still the city and this valley, but also… not. That’s where the Niedaners are.”

Yung, kept his gaze on T’halis, both their minds wandering from the Dogo game.

“Why do you think no one’s seen the Niedaners in so long?” T’halis continued. “Yet, we learn about them as children.”

“Only the crackpots and the enlightened claim to have met them,” Yung interjected. “They’re all the same to me.”

“Even my dad?”

Yung looked up, realizing what a fool he had just made of himself. T’halis had only known their dad, when they were a small child.

“It makes sense to me,” T’halis said.

Yung thought for a moment. He didn’t show nor say anything on it further. He just gave a simple, “Hm” and looked back to the Dogo board. T’halis had been around Panal users their whole life. Their dad especially. Whenever he was over, Yung could never tell if T’halis’ dad was a crackpot or becoming enlightened. His parents always called him a crackpot, while T’halis’ dad always claimed to be on the path to enlightenment. To Yung, they very much seemed the same. Around T’halis’ ninth year, their dad claimed to have been getting “close,” emitting a high frequency of calm and outward love. Then he disappeared. No one had seen him since.

They continued in silence. It was a different kind of silence than they were playing in before. This one was deeper, and T’halis could tell Yung was thinking about what had been said, and Young could tell T’halis had more to say. He was just waiting for them to say it.

“I want to try it,” T’halis said after a period of time.

So that was it. The whole reason they had brought the infernal drug up. Yung felt he should have seen that coming, but he had been too occupied by a strategic plan for the game to consider a strategic plan for the conversation. He sighed and could feel T’halis’ eye boring into his skull.

“Lots of people say it’s the magi of old. The shamans. They believe it is how we all got to where we are now. We all perhaps evolved from something similar in the past.”

“Pucks and Wongali did NOT evolve from the same creature,” Yung said sternly.

It’s true, Pucks were much shorter, standing at around a meter in height, with long necks and bulbous noses rather than the tall, smooth, more subtle Wongali.

“Perhaps not,” T’halis shrugged. “But maybe we were all given our current state of enlightenment by taking Panal. Our ancestors, they could’ve Panaled themselves into consciousness!”

“I doubt it.” Yung had a heat on his breath and a hiss in his voice. It silenced T’halis for a moment.

“I still want to try it,” T’halis said and moved a Dogo piece. They knew that would get Yung. He might hate Panal for whatever reason, but he cared about T’halis more, and that meant he wasn’t about to let them go do something like trip on Panal with a bunch of weirdos all on their own.

Yung stared at the Dogo board for a while. Not moving. Not speaking. His eyes weren’t even scanning the pieces. He was staring towards, but probably through the game board.

“Fine,” he finally said. “I’m going with you.”

T’hali’s ears perked up along with a smile that cracked on their face. They knew he would.

“I gotta know,’ T’halis said. “I gotta know what else is out there.”