Kalon Name: Micah
Link to Kalon: XX
If they could write a letter to their past self, what would it say:
Micah, as a child, did not have horns - and nor was he born blind. So here, young Micah, with pupils that shone bright and a soft, yellow head to pat, stumbled into an empty, older section of the ship he was on. For the day, he had touched down on a planet called Fuerois, one with inherent powerful magicks that as a child Micah couldn't help but want to explore. This ship was of Fuerois make - despite being old, it was on a technological level far beyond anything Micah had ever stepped foot on. The Fueron's ships were said to be so powerful that they had the ability to shoot through time itself, both forward, and back.
Scuttling around the room awash with older, more bulky control panels compared to the newer Fueron ships, Micah stopped at a small monitor and began to mess with the keyboard in curiosity, easily navigating the ship's system. While the Fueron were legends for their mold-breaking technology, at the time this ship had been built, their interfaces had not been quite on the level as the functions of the ship themselves. And, while Micah was a child, he was no ordinary child - growing up from planet to planet, ship to ship, he had learned his fair share of how to operate ships - or hack into them.
'Inbox: 1 (20 years) - Open message?' Micah, curious upon seeing the message on the glass screen, was quick to hit enter. The machine suddenly became much more lively, shuddering and groaning, letting off sparks of blue light. Text was quickly scrawled onto the screen, as if it was only just being typed. A icon in the bottom right hand corner indicated the speed of receiving the message. Micah leaned forward on his paws to discern the moving green text.
- 'I knew you would stop at Fuerois, and in your curiosity, come upon this terminal. When I came upon it, twenty years ago, there was nothing to be found. I was disappointed. But what was I expecting? Nobody sends messages from the future to a terminal on a ship that's been decommissioned for the past fifty years.
Who am I? I think you know that by now. It is possible, after all, if forbidden by law. But we've never really cared much for that, have we?
But you probably don't believe me, and you won't heed my advice either. I know you, but you don't know me - or you won't, for another twenty years. But I do know from what I have learned from the psychologists of Bemarin that what I say to you will be remembered, and when you think back upon it, you will be struck, and you will consider. Maybe this consideration will be enough to change something, and maybe it will not.
Child - your life is not easy, nor is it grand in a way a kalon should wish it to be. Your horns that you may feel begin to come in a year will be your thorny crown. No longer will the world be so bright, and full of flashing icons, countless stars and thousands of colors. Instead, it will a giant black hole to your eyes, and you will grit your teeth and yell, for why did the world take this away from me and what you are today will become a mask for cruelty and a want for power and gold.
One day, someone will show you the way you went was wrong. They will show you that you only lost from where you thought you gained, and that now, it's time to give it all back to those you stole from. Their kindness is boundless, and it is invaluable - for your sake and theirs, don't push them away.
Find, within yourself, peace in the void. It is like the universe, but a endless space were you live by touch, sound, taste and your imagination. Take those values and build them up until you find there is no need to hold your claws so close. Instead, hold to you the kalons and people you love close. Wear your vicious crown of horns and hold it strong against those who seek to hurt you.
And, the universe is vast, and so surely full of people sure to anger you, ones that still anger me. If you follow the path I took, then your life will be full of countless dangers, people seeking to kill you for what you are. Do not merely stand against them, but listen to what they have to say - in it, you will find your flaws. If you do not follow the path I took, hold wary to the kind of kalons that were me, and that might be you - and stand against them. For surely, the world is full of them, with far too many.
Finally, never, ever forget these last words I impart to you. Hold them close at mind, and close at heart.
It was never your fault.
N-no- , it was those red eyed, alien bastards who tore you blind ---
And made your heart so dark.
The message abruptly cut off. Young Micah stared, then released their coiled position from looking at the terminal. He looked at the ceiling, for a moment, in all of its swirling blue patterns.
He wondered if he should be afraid - of himself, or monsters.
Or maybe they're just the same thing.
He wondered if the message was true at all.
