Spiritually Driven 1 (Patreon)

Spiritually Driven - or ‘The Traveler is ‘God’, but I am quite the Messiah in this Dark World’ (Destiny/Destiny II, Spirit!SI)

Someone has to bear a burden.

The fire of a torch, the flashlight upon the shadows, the tools needed to make something so insignificant actually meaningful and important within the big picture. At times, you don’t get to see it until it is too late.

My chance appeared in quite the unexpected fashion.

One day, I was no longer alive… but I was not dead. I was something else. I was not tangible, mortal, bound by an expiration date- no, I was… boundless, but also existing within a single individual entity.

My ‘ego’, my soul, persisted within what felt like an extra-physical experience. Like a dream, quite psychedelic but, in truth, too realistic and rational to be deemed as such.

Not a dream- a Curse for the Darkness and a Blessing for the Light.

I existed for I thought and persisted.

My persistence was rewarded by those that could see it. Not humans, but aliens. Cephalopods, creatures with six arms that found their solace and civilization within the depths of the many moons that rallied near the Planet known as… Fundament.

They were many, they were curious, and they had already been touched by a blessing already. Traveler, that’s the word that first came to mind as I realized what it was. They worshiped it as a God, but I defined it as it should be - a medium to the divine. A tool of the Light.

It was odd early on. I couldn’t exactly ‘speak’ with them, but I could understand their thoughts. Their minds were given to me to show honesty and pure wonder. It wasn’t stupidity, it was faithful obedience upon a spiritual being.

I was almost venerated as much as the Traveler, but the sphere held magnitude I did not. And it was fine to me. What I could offer was, after all, not the same as it could be in terms of importance to their overall evolution- where the Traveler offered modernization of technological means, I provided with the modernization of culture which this society would have been lacking by a large margin.

I knew where I was by the time I saw the Traveler and was the one that coined that name for them. Destiny was not a good place to be living in, especially in this very part of space and at this very time. The Ammonite were thankful and, best of all, willing to seek improvement upon themselves.

Their government was driven initially by ‘chiefs’, but then slowly started to grow better-organized as democracy was given a bigger revamp. Representatives were selected to fit within the right places, assigned to do the proper jobs and soon a Congress of Equals was established.

A constitution followed shortly after, with rights regarded with great attention, duties being enshrined to manifest the traditions of the Ammonite Culture in a manner that would persist through the ages and, finally, a basis of organization for the military.

Si vis Pacem, Para Bellum- if you want peace, prepare for war.

Such a tenet became the basis of why the Ammonites had to create troops for warfare and ships for space-battles. Not for invasion, not for aggression, but for preemptive defense against those that could seek to endanger their homes.

It was a dedicated effort to sustain the Ammonite even when the thought of Traveler leaving became a ‘chance’ by merely chatting with me about it. They were eventually able to understand why it would eventually leave through my own simple words: he aids the weak, he blesses the strong.

With that in mind, a proper entity to govern all Ammonites was created with the purpose of appropriating ‘emancipation’. The United Federation of Atlantis was a name originally born from a bit of banter at the congress, but the leaders found it more appealing compared to just branding it with the name of their species.

And I could see why- with space-faring now an option, the chances of finding new species, friends or foes, opened up the chance to add more than just Ammonites to that blend. It was… a fair and intelligent thought at the time.

It felt like mere months, but decades were burned with my mind slowly accepting that mortality was no longer to be observed for someone like me. I was without form, without physical limits- but it didn’t make me a god. I was still limited by fair rules to restrain my relevance. For now.

I didn’t plan to fall for the ‘more power is good’ trap. I knew everything that was to add to one’s power had to be paid in a way: either by something damaging or by something that takes time to develop. But I had time and patience. I was not seeing a point to address Fundament and the Krill, the species that preceded the Hive was not a concern to me.

Likewise, the Ammonites had already rejected the Krill and their barbaric methods. A comparison to their current traditions was how the Batarians existed in the world of Mass Effect. They were criminals at heart, vicious at the core but… not all of them. I was not a God, this I will always understand- but there are times I forget I can and will be proven wrong by the right bunch of people.

Such was the case of three young sisters seeking a path to reach their revenge-fueled goal. A prayer was enough, but it was also the odd ‘light’ sparkling from them that drew me to briefly leave the 52 moons of Fundament to reach the surface of the planet.

Desolate, somber, the air was tinged in some blood. It wasn’t something akin for all species- blood, I mean. But I could tell someone died there and it was something plastered over the three small figures that I was greeted with, my small floating white fire form gazing upon the three tiny ‘things’.

Not Ammonites, these were humanoids and, by human standards, fairly hideous. But decades of seeing some odd shit had made me less disgusted by it. I just saw the scene in a more objective manner like I usually do nowadays. Three ‘children’, all of which were roughly three to four years old by Fundament’s standard.

Very young, but not weak- not without ambition.

‘It worked!’ One of them muttered in delight, the two others looking surprised with one being more cautious than the rest. ‘The Flame Oracle. He can help us!’

The relief and hope was not amiss, but I refused to address them just yet as I could smell the skepticism right as the confused one spoke up.

‘Are you sure he is a trustworthy oracle? Taox was also good.’

‘Taox is a filthy hag!’ The ‘believer’ rebuked that claim while the other Krill sibling nodded.

I am not familiar with any ‘Taox’, but I reckon that expectations and impressions should be driven by introduction. As your sister may have already introduced me as Flame Oracle, that is the name granted by me by my people. I am John Bukharin, hello.

Surprise, then… curiosity.

‘Are you truly a Oracle?’ The ‘believer’ inquired. ‘The one with the knowledge to achieve victory from the brink of damnation?’

I am not a God. I am a tactician with ideas, a mind refined by eons of careful trials and errors to achieve a proper course of action. Such is the finite role expanded upon eternity.

‘...Can you help us, yes or no?’ The ‘oldest’ angrily asked, losing her temper about it. Emotional but also distraught. I forgave her for now.

Once again, I am not a God. I would require first to know what plight consumes you. Speaking of which, what are your names, children?

That very day, I ended up becoming the tutor of-

‘Aurash.’ ‘Sathona.’ ‘Xi Ro.’

Three troublesome Krill.