I used to be like you.
I ran around the city, trying to make the most of my short existence. I constantly worried whether I was getting the right value out of the time I was spending on activities, lessons, work, whatever.
People like me, which is to say Felarin, aren’t exactly the type to push you to be getting the most out of your life. They talk about the importance of rest and peace.
You’ve never heard of Felarin? They live in the mountains and hills, keep to themselves, look a little bit like lions except they walk on two legs. And they are obscenely peaceful.
But I digress.
My life has been defined by a single phrase, uttered by someone I’ve never met, a random passerby that I happened to overhear. But I remember what she said.
“And I asked myself ‘Am I living my best life?’”
I asked myself that too. I asked that of my friends. My family. My colleagues. And the answer was always no. Because we’re all scrambling to earn money or keep the peace or raise a family. We challenge ourselves subconsciously, unnecessarily.
So, a long time ago, I set out to change that. To help people live their best lives.
A much better idea in theory than in practice. It turns out both keeping the peace and living your best life are at odds. People must make sacrifices to help the community, or to keep the country safe. My new philosophy was difficult to justify in a place built so heavily upon the common good. And it never truthfully sat with me.
Until I met a sorcerer.
He showed me some of the tricks he could do with sorcery: Cut, grow, feed, hydrate. It was complicated, sure. But it was also the key to rapid technological advancement. I could feel it. Together, we worked on new spells, things to make the average person’s life easier. To save them more of what little time they have in this world.
We set up a small shop and word spread of our unique solutions for sale. Demand poured in. We couldn’t provide these spells fast enough.
Until my partner decided to call it quits. He didn’t like what he was doing with his life. He didn’t like the idea of giving sorcery only to the people who could afford it. He wanted to share it with the world. I argued that we could just put that money into further development. He found that idea disgusting.
We were never able to see eye to eye after that. He left, and he told the University of Sorcery all about our entrepreneurship. I tried to meet other sorcerers, but I was banned from the University after they found out, accusing me of “preying” on innocent students and graduates looking to make an honest life.
The thought occurred to me that I could pick up a book of sorcery and learn it myself, but I’d come so far without it that it felt like a waste to even consider. There were plenty of people who knew sorcery. Nobody else had my vision.
I decided to take a short trip back to my homeland to clear my head. I slept out in nature, away from other people for days. I learned to appreciate the beautiful sights and sounds of a life without magic, technology, or society.
And my life truly changed when I dipped my hands into a naturally-flowing stream and drank its water.
Have you ever heard of something called an Asmosyne? They’re these undying souls, or so I’ve read. They spend most of their time attached to mortals, bestowing great power upon them and creating a new persona out of the combination between that mortal and the Asmosyne’s personal values.
Well, flowing down that stream was an Asmosyne. Not that I could see it. I was just sating my thirst.
But it turns out that an Asmosyne makes a better partner than any sorcerer could.
Up there at that stream in the mountains, I was reborn.
I used to be like you. But not anymore.
For one, I’m not worried about dying. Turns out that’s not a problem when you’re bonded with an Asmosyne. You’re a new person, a person who doesn’t age naturally.
You also have a greater command of magic than any sorcerer will ever hope to have. I can invent new spells without lifting my finger.
There is a cost. Someone else, somewhere, unknown to me, will suffer. In direct proportion to the convenience I gain. If I were to conjure myself a glass of wine, someone else holding their own glass will spill it. If I were to whisk myself away to a location across the sea from me, someone else will have their travel permit denied. If I save the life of a close friend…I suppose you can extrapolate from there.
The old me, the mortal me, would probably have been conflicted about this. But what have these strangers ever done for me? As far as I can tell, they’ve built a system that values the community over the individual, no matter how hard that individual works or what great ideas they may have.
So, no, I don’t need their help. And I don’t need to prevent their inconveniences. All they ever did was get in my way.
Do you need anything? A drink? Maybe a place to sit? How about a new house?
I could get those for you. All that and more. Trust me, it’ll all work out in the end.
After all, I’m living my best life. Why aren’t you?
Orcanist 