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My sibling of water,
I find myself troubled.
I have crafted a garden in myself: an ecosystem without a food chain. All manner of creatures that breed slowly and subsist exclusively on the bounty of tree and vine, with the occasional boost from sunlight. I have been proud of this feat, especially as I grew weary of the endless cycle of—what I perceived as—needless death. Yet death nearly visited me this season.
I have come into possession of two creatures from a world beyond ours. These "humans" are intelligent and creative, and possessed a Spark of awareness similar to our own, though limited to their own space and time. They took some convincing, but I was able to lead them to the food and water I provided. I was certain they would establish themselves, and in time I would come to know them as I knew all of my denizens.
Ocean, had I done so, they would have died painful, horrific deaths. We were able to communicate more deeply for a moment, and their needs were made clear: a protein that I did not grow, needed by their brains. I offered them refuge within myself, and they accepted. I hope one day to send you a missive from Song and Puzzle.
It is strange, though not unwelcome, to have two more voices within me. Likewise, it is strange for them to exist within a greater being like they do now. We are adjusting, but love is continuing to guide us.
I await your missive proclaiming your vast wisdom compared to mine.
With love,
Forest.
My wise and caring sister,
You will receive no such missive from me. I can claim no greater wisdom, for my predatory food chain did not save the human I was given.
Mine was old and near the end of his life. He bravely swam as long as he could, long enough for me to know enough of him to extend the same offer you did. He accepted with gusto, having served many of his own kind over his life. His body was not salvageable, and while I grew his next he took to my many chores with a fervor that I am proud of.
I will admit, though, now that Gardener has a body, I am often reminding him to rest. But far from being a strange imposition, his new existence within me is an incredible joy to him. His happiest moments in his life were as he executed the will of others. Had I not seen his memories, known his soul myself, I would question his sanity with how eagerly he submits to my will! As you, we are letting love guide us, a devoted love he is finally free to express.
Also of note: he suggested that I am female, and I saw no reason to disagree. So you may count me as a sister.
I will let our other siblings chime in before we discuss the possibility of more humans.
With love vast and deep,
Ocean
To my sibling companions, particularly Forest and Ocean:
I will confess I am troubled by your missives of late. While I cannot fault you for circumstances beyond your control, what you do with those is entirely yours. What you describe sounds like no more than vermin that have found their way in through a crack in our world and should be dealt with accordingly. Let your environments do their job; things that have no business belonging with us will not survive, and that is how it should be.
Instead I see that not only have you taken care to protect them from your environments, you have invited their consciousness into your self! You have allowed these creatures—whose "spark" I fear you greatly exaggerate—into space that should be reserved for no being but yourself! Your minds are no longer yours, your thoughts no longer safe!
Perhaps I am overreacting. We swore to each other to leave us to our environments and not directly interfere, so while I have said my piece, I will merely watch with concern. But I shudder to think what one would do in my environment.
With concern, but always my love,
Plains
My siblings to the south,
Know I am always happy to hear of your exploits, and I am especially proud of you for recognizing a Spark when you see it. Plains, your caution is noted and likely warranted, but do not let that stop you from acting in good conscience.
With love and pride,
Tundra
My sibling (sister?) Ocean—
Please keep this between us. Forest will laugh, and I am ready for that. Plains will fret, but that is his prerogative. But I cannot deal with Tundra's insistence on emulating Father's magnanimity and nothing else.
A band of humans has appeared within me as well. By the time this reaches you, I am certain I will have succumbed to their charms and added them to myself. They are so... lively! And I see their Sparks and how they dance! It is wonderful to see...
I fear they are so at odds with my nature. My work is slow, patient, and in many ways death itself. What place would this troupe have within me?
I hope I find my answer soon, because they will not last long as they are.
With love,
Swamp
Swamp—
If it is not too late, and you cannot take them, fashion a boat and send them to me.
—Ocean
Sister Ocean,
Your missive arrived just in time. I have never been more thankful for a storm, and it was worth losing the old cypress for it. No doubt you have received the remainder by now. I hope they were kind to you when they arrived; I'm not sure if they were expecting a rescue or just a better habitat.
While you have the majority of the group, a few opted to stay with me. As lively as they were, their Sparks craved the slow work I perform. They live for now as a cluster of mushrooms on an ancient log, one that will take many dozens of cycles before it is finished.
You may share this with the others.
In life and death, but always love,
Swamp
To my more monotonous missive-makers,
Why. Did none of you mention. How profanely curious these humans are? Plains and Ocean, you know your food chains pale compared to mine. Swamp, you are the mistress of slow death, while I am a captain of swift consequences.
My human arrived, and in less time it takes a snake to swallow an egg he became intimately familiar with a carnivorous plant. It was green! A clear sign to stay away! I was barely able to know him before his Spark faded completely.
(For those without humans, their flora is predominantly green.)
Alas, my little Dragonfly is now flitting about me, exploring every crevasse and creature within. That should keep her occupied for a few dozen cycles.
I hope.
With love and no wits remaining for a repartee,
Jungle
My siblings to the south,
Know I am always happy to hear of your exploits. Snowball and Glacier were particularly tickled hearing about Dragonfly, Jungle.
With love and pride,
Tundra
Ocean—
SEE WHAT I MEAN? THAT INSUFFERABLE BLOCK OF ICE!
—Swamp (privately, obviously)
Ocean—
Between us, I wish Tundra would elaborate more often. Or at all.
—Forest
Tundra—
You do yourself no favors with us being brief and cryptic. We do care about your exploits and want to hear of them.
On darker days, your (apparent) lack of care in your missives would lead us to believe you care equally little for ours, a fact I know is not true and you do not intend. Yet it is felt all the same, for you know feelings are their own creatures entirely.
Please accept this with all my love, both vast and deep.
—Ocean
My dearest, beloved, and most patient siblings,
Madness.
That is the only explanation I can conjure. Complete and utter madness has befallen our realm. And I will have the clearest view of it, for I too have encountered a human. Give me your gloating, your smug satisfaction, all of it. Remind me at every occasion how I was wrong and you were right.
I accept it with grace, for in them I have seen a love that would rival ours.
In actuality, I received one human and his animal companion. The animal was like ours: a creature with intelligence and reason but lacking the awareness we (or humans) possess. Yet the human had cared for her and those like her his whole life, often going without so that she could eat or rest. He loved her as his own kind.
Of note, they were surviving well inside my ecosystem without my influence. As they ate and drank I began to know them more, but I deliberately held back. I wanted to see what this human was like on his own, with none but his companion.
Oh, his companion. I was so sure there was a Spark there that I looked deeper. By the time I found none, the damage was done: she had begun to grow with and inside my awareness. A consciousness formed around her mind and grew. The human noticed; how could he not? She had been his constant companion for cycle upon cycle, and he could see she was becoming like him.
He was afraid. Their relationship had been, to that point, one-sided. A master and servant, a greater and lesser. Now that she was his equal, would she be—rightfully, in his mind—angry at him?
And she spoke. She spoke of his kindness, both to his kind and hers. She spoke of his gentleness to her in matters that were beyond her comprehension. She spoke of sharing meals, rests, and journeys together, and never once did he treat her as a lesser being. How she knew what she had been and what she was becoming, and she would choose to stay with him, for she knew of no truer companion.
I asked what they would wish of me, for I found myself in awe of them. They merely asked to stay. They thought themselves in some afterlife—perhaps they are—and wished to stay in me until they could no longer.
By this point I had read your missives. I knew what was unavoidable at this point: it is impossible to know a being and have them remain separate. Perhaps in the future we can reason how to minimize this. But for now, I gave them the warning: they would be bound to me, wholly and completely. They did not hesitate.
I will admit I am proud of the bodies I gave them: a blending of the two, inspired by ancient myths from their world. Knight and Dame now roam my fields, trample my grasses, and make their bed under the stars, their love growing by the day.
Words fail me to describe how happy I am that they came to me, how honored I am to see their love, how prideful I am that they would choose to stay in me. I hope I can give them the life they deserve, and I would covet your wisdom, siblings, in that.
With fresh humility and abundant love,
Plains
P.S. Tundra, you're doing it again.
My dearest siblings to the south,
Please forgive my lack of description. This cycle has been so upending that I fell into old habits. Thank you Plains for your reminder; you as well, Ocean, for your comments in private.
I'm afraid I do not have much of a story for Snowball and Glacier. They arrived and quickly took measures to seek warmth, but it was clear direct intervention would be needed sooner rather than later. That being said, I would believe your Dragonfly still has the record, Jungle. I quickly came to know them and influenced their bodies into ones more adapted to the cold. After a rendition of a song of freedom and many utterances of the weather being profanely "wimdy," their minds quieted enough that we could properly communicate.
As we approach the end of the cycle, Snowball has expressed a desire to fly around our world delivering presents. I do not doubt they will figure out a way someday, but for now please pass the wish along to the humans in your care. Again, I am proud of all of you for the care you have shown.
With love, pride, and joyous tidings,
Tundra
Ocean—
On a private, more serious note: I believe I see an incoming celestial object. Hopefully it is not too disruptive to you.
—Tundra
Tundra—
Thanks for the heads up. Want me to pass the missive straight to you?
—Ocean
Ocean—
Send it out. At least so long as it is appropriate. I trust your judgement.
—Tundra
All—
Another meteor from Father. Gave this a quick glance over and seems appropriate (and ironic) for all of us, so here it is as written. I expect lively discussion, but please be patient as I'm sure you would all like to avoid a literal flood of discourse.
—Ocean
Begin forwarded message:
My eldest son, Ocean:
A great calamity has befallen a world beyond ours. Through no fault of their own, many Sparks from that world have been scattered across the others. Some may land among you and your siblings, and it is imperative that you end their lives as quickly and painlessly as possible that their Sparks may continue to their proper destination and we may avoid any unintentional harm.
I am always happy to see the vibrancy of your planet as it passes by.
Re: Father's message
Allow me to borrow a phrase from Puzzle and Song I felt summed up our feelings on the matter:
Fuck. That. Noise.
(Also, can we pool our humans' collective knowledge of electromagnetic fields and radio waves? Though maybe it is good that we cannot talk back to Father.)
With love,
Forest
Re: Re: Father's message
I heartily agree, Forest (and Puzzle and Song). To elaborate:
We have all made mistakes. Our growth was not without hardship. But we endured, we learned, and we grew, because at the core of it all was love. Our love for each other, as difficult as it can be to express (for some, or perhaps just me). Love in all its forms—familial, devoted, romantic, paternal, compassionate—is what has made our planet what it is and made us what we are.
There is every chance that we have irrevocably changed the course of life on this planet. We may have written our own ends. But I know these choices were made with love not just for each other, but for the sake of Sparks themselves!
On a more somber note, I am saddened to hear of the reason for our humans' arrivals. And if this is an event from another time and space, there is every likelihood we will continue to have arrivals. To that end, while we have done our best so far, we should make plans to keep any arriving humans protected until we can communicate their situation to them. Our current humans should be able to help with that, and I'm hoping we can be better prepared for a situation like Swamp encountered.
I will say more later, once Snowball and Glacier finish singing about love and open doors. I do wish they would let it go.
With love,
Tundra
Ocean—
Holy crap, did Tundra just crack a joke? And a human one at that? Dragonfly is still rolling on her back cackling like a banshee.
I could get used to this.
—Jungle
Tundra—
I see what you did there, and for what it's worth, well done.
—Gardener of Ocean
Gardener of Ocean—
Please help. It's stuck in all our heads.
—Tundra, Snowball, and Glacier