Chapter 82 – Mission

Is this longing to be one of them, to rejoin Dar-el and see her again, something real or simply a hold over — nothing more than merely a more attractive choice to what follows? Am I emotionally connected? Did I bond with them or were my eyes and emotions simply opened to more than what had been available? Did I just feel a sense of gratitude for the acceptance shown me? If time had allowed, if I were under no orders or obligations, would I have chosen to remain? If such were the case what would have become of me? My character, based on constantly observing new things, would surely be dissatisfied with menial daily tasks with no end or no further purpose other than to accomplish again and again.

What of Dar-el and I? Would Dar-el and I have become embittered toward each other over time? Bored with the constant view and appearance of each other’s features and appearance, finding comfort in the arms of others as I saw happen with a handful of the Caysas. If our feelings were true and had been given time to grow and ripen, would we have mated and become a pair? Bound to grow old together in some darkened cave at the end of darkly lit tunnel. Would I even have been able to father a child? Even after observing coupling as I have for a number of species, it is unknown whether I could simulate the substance that one produces to fulfill such an action. And what of that child? Would it be a pure Caysa or something of a mix, an oddity much like Nemel –- shunned for life and uncomfortable in its ill-fitting skin?  

Even if there was no child, there would have to be some consideration for the longevity of my life. Since none of my kind has expired of natural causes, there’s no telling how long I actually could live. Would my life be shortened by expending my abilities in keeping up appearances or would the shape become permanent? And what of my death? Would I die of some accident or injury, or an illness that leaves me gasping for life that comes with the aged and frail before they breathe their last? In that final moment, what would be left of me? The shell that I had lived in and made my own or would I change back to my true form and make my entire legacy one of horror and disgust? Would the unveiling of my real self relegate Dar-el to be despised for the remainder of her days?  

Perhaps there is enough energy in me to live beyond them so that I would have to simulate age and its accompanying weaknesses and frailty. I would have to watch as Dar-el aged, weakened and then died in some unimaginable way without my being able to help. Then, at some point after my Dar-el had departed, I would take my leave into the wild as Elder had thought to do –- living out the remainder of my days as a shadow of myself in some forgotten corner so that my agelessness wouldn’t be questioned and my body probed.

All this is pointless speculation to be sure. Yet I wonder at it over and over as I sit in my room waiting to do something, make something of the day even if it is in the shroud of the Bormea’s skin.