ORIGINS: One of the words we used in the original series was DESIROUS. Fairness demanded that we leave part of that word out, so, we cut it in half and discarded its beginning. But there was still something missing. It was then that an ant appeared out of nowhere, and we got the word ROUSANT. Mighty animals holding up a shield, a name. And the little ants became the parasites, usurping their bodies and controlling their thoughts.
*A shield is a name, it’s an origin in itself. Thus the turtles, because everything began with them.
The ants gave us a choice. To die or to relinquish one of our eyes. My brother, my other half, the one that had always shared the burden of our family name with me, he chose to die, while he could still proudly call himself a deer. I know what my choice will be. And I am glad that he was born first. That he won’t see anything, that he won’t feel anything, when the ants use his antlers to gouge out one of my eyes. He chose to die rather than living his life seeing only one side of the argument. But I am not him. Even if it’s just a crumb, I would rather live and see something.
Sometimes I wonder if there would still have been a need for names, if war didn’t exist. If people didn’t pick sides. If lions didn’t wear crowns. I never wanted to be a dog of war. But I was born with a shield in my hand. A name. A side. I became a dog, a servant, with a helmet on my head. One that looked like a shell and turned my thoughts into a turtle. Too afraid to show itself. And now I feel like it’s already too late.
I used to be one of two bears holding up a shield. Its name was Winter. Its name was Childhood. And we were told to sleep, that there was no need to dream. That soon it would be over, and we would finally be of use. Luckily for me, the ants had other plans. They took over. They filled our sleep with dreams. A myriad of clouds, to reshape as our hearts saw fit. To cover the sun, and let Winter reign supreme.
They told me that my name was a shield. That it would protect me, and I would never get lost. In someone else. In the crowd. I spent most of my childhood looking for swords, awaiting the blow. But it never came. I was one of two swans. I should have been flying, I should have been free. But instead I spent most of my childhood holding up a shield. And still the blow didn’t come. There were only ants. A row. A barely there touch. Something so small, something so constant, that I didn’t notice it until my childhood was almost over. And I still haven’t figured out why they gave me this shield, when they must have known that it would be useless against those ants.