short story #3

It's cold.

The natural powers pervading this world are hard at work. Life begins anew and ends like old. A repeating, encircling cycle of death and birth. Of birth and rebirth. When one dies, they cease to exist. They "aren't" anymore. This process can happen slowly, or quickly, or in the blink of an eye. For some, it may seem like it would never happen.

But it does happen. And you will die.

Mother has been kind to me. She has provided me, provided everyone with the energy we needed to survive. Like a parent nurtures their child, Mother nurtures us. And we, in return, feed Mother the precious nutrients she needs. That is our purpose. We have been doing this for aeons. We feed her, and she strengthens us.
There were 203,119 of us initially. From buds, we spawned, unsure and unknowing of this new life given to us. Many creatures persisted around us. Large, winged creatures, with pointed mouths and shrill voices. They built their homes among us, and we kept them safe. Occasionally, there existed smaller, fur-covered creatures with improbable wings to heave their little bodies. They built their homes under us, and we kept them safe, too. Creatures with many legs. Creatures with no legs. The life of the world existed here, and here, it flourished. And Mother was thankful.

However, not all creatures were so benevolent. There were these... things. These incredibly large beasts, with mirrored appendages and odd colours. They would have been weak, were they granted an appropriate size. They should have been weak. They had no natural defences; no natural weapons, and yet, they were stronger than anything I had ever seen. We paid them no mind, at first. After all, they consumed our excrement and excreted an additional life force for us. They were surely machines built by Life to help us thrive.
And then, something odd occurred. A creature, smaller than its counterparts, grabbed onto Mother. And it climbed up her. Farther and farther it climbed, seemingly undeterred by the possibility of a misstep. And then it squealed, and more creatures came from around the area, climbing onto Mother. The sounds they were making made me so... uneasy. Did they dare hurt Mother? These pitiful beasts had the gall to place their unclean bodies against such a great being? I was, unfortunately, unable to stop it. I had failed her. They eventually left, but I could not stop thinking about those foul beasts. This happened again, and again, and again. Over and over, they came to Mother, unthankful of the gifts she was bringing to those rotten sacks of flesh.

Eventually, Mother gave me height. I was lifted above my siblings as if she wanted to show me something. And as it turned out, Mother was not alone. There was another being just like her, a relatively short distance away. We called her Sister. And she was much worse off than Mother. I did not understand initially, but as time went on, I began to. It was the fault of the beasts. They had torn off Sister's children, ripping them apart and desecrating their bodies. As older children fell to the ground, they took an apparent joy in stomping on them. The sounds of their bones, cracking and snapping underneath their feet made me so angry. But once again, I was powerless to stop it. Mother was unable to stop them either. Sometimes, when I wasn't feeding, I could hear Sister weeping. Begging the creatures to stop taking her kin. Mother wept with her.

Then it was our turn. We began to grow old, having seen life start and stop endlessly. But the creatures didn't change. Perhaps they were even older than Mother? The thought frightens me. Then a sibling fell from Mother.

And violence thrived once again.

One by one, my siblings became too weak to stay with Mother, and Mother was too weak to save them. Her cries were loud and so, so sad. I cried with her, but my fate was sealed with that of everyone else. Sister had already reached her final state. Every single child of hers was gone. She had fallen silent a while ago, and no matter how much Mother had called out to her, she didn't respond.
Mother was growing weak. She told me that there was once a path nearby, filled with lifeblood. It flowed through the Base, giving power to Mother and aiding her. We were not alive at the time to have access to this river of blood, but Mother tells me that it was magnificent. But it had since run dry. As a result, our birth was painful for her. But we were still her children. Her only children. Mother never responded when I asked if we were the first, but I chose to believe so. After all, she would surely tell us if there was another life after all of this, right? We had already lived for so long, but she had lived for even longer. I trusted her. I trust her still.

It has been so long since Mother last spoke to me. I miss her voice. My siblings are all but gone now. I watch as another falls, already dead, and another creature steps on them. Bodies began to pile up about 50 feedings ago, and I can feel myself slipping at times. The wind threatens to pull me away from my blessed Mother, but I remain to aid her. I have to.
Mother, why won't you speak to me? Sister remains silent. Please, Mother.  You are all I have left. The friendly creatures that stayed with us have left. The small yellow ones are gone, and the large white ones have abandoned us. But we don't need any of them, right? We only need each other. Please don't abandon me too, Mother. I can still give you energy. I can still trap food from Life and give it to you, cleaned and healthy. The wind is winning. I'm going soon. Please don't leave me, mom.

It's cold.


"Finality", by me. A commission for a friend :)
Thank you for reading!