Fears Of Mortality
We were sitting by a seashore, in Tethe'alla, close to the hidden village of Mizuho. We had run through Gaoracchia forest, I defending Anna with my sword. She could well have fought for herself, despite the exhaustion, her condition, and her humanity, but I was proud to take care of her.
Anna sat staring into the ocean. I was fishing, trying to catch something for her to eat. I, of course, didn't need to eat, but I worried for her health. I had given up asking her to consider becoming an angel by now. Every time she refused I was reminded of her mortality, as was she. I could see the fear in my eyes reflected in hers. One day, I will be without her, with perhaps another four thousand years ahead of me to grieve and remember. Still her pregnancy is a cause for hope. Our child, hers and mine. Often, when I hold her, I feel that I want us to merge together, to be one. I don't want to be two separate people, with these awkward barriers of skin and flesh. I want to be a part of her, her to be a part of me, to merge mind and blood and bone and sinew and soul…This child…in its genes, it's soul, we will be together forever, Anna and I, both of us as close as any two can be.
You can understand why I worried. Human beings are so fragile, so tiny…the universe is so old, and yet is still an infant. My long life, hundreds of times longer than it should have been is barely a blink on that scale. A human lives for but a microsecond and then they die.
Some men dream of immortality, to be remembered. What is immortality? Immortality amongst men is nowt, for the entire existence of man is but a fingersnap to the great demon that is time. To be remembered by men is not immortality. To be remembered by a dying race? One day they will be gone. Elves too. Unicorns and summon spirits…even Noishe the protozoan, the first creature, one day he will be gone. Anna will die. Our child will die. If we have grandchildren, they will die. And their children, and theirs, and theirs…when I look to the future all I see is the death of people I love. And then, at the end of the world, my own death. Until all that will be left is Martel, perhaps, trapped within the great seed.
I can feel the years weighing down, heavy upon me. I heard a story once. It belonged to the religion before Cruxis. Two people, the first created were in a garden. A wonderful garden, a paradise. And the creator told them they could choose to live forever in the garden, in wonderful contentment. Or, they could eat of the fruit of one of the two sacred trees in the garden. The tree of happiness or the tree of knowledge.
It is said, or at least, I believe it is so, that one person chose to eat the fruit of the tree of happiness. He was Adam, the father of all. He chose a short life, with much pain and suffering. In return, he gained happiness.
The other human ate of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. She was Eve, the mother of all. She chose a longer life, though, perhaps not as interesting as his.
Adam was the first human. Humans live short lives, but they are the inventors, the creators, the dreamers. They love more than elves, they are the one's capable of feeling such love as mine for Anna.
Eve was the first elf. Elves live long lives, but they move slowly. They are wise and knowledgeable. They are the one's capable of taking a human idea and perfecting it, over lifetimes.
I have never thought of this before but now I wonder – why did neither of them choose immortality? Perhaps…perhaps they decided they would rather have pain and short lives, and maybe even have some of their number never really live at all…perhaps they knew they would rather face anything at all than be immortal. Perhaps even before they ate of the fruit they had more knowledge and wisdom than I.
I sigh and stare ahead, locked in my own thoughts.