Among the Immortals [Delayed.]

Foreword

Aeonia is horrible. Secretly, most people would agree. But they would all claim anyway that this was the best we could do.

 Maybe tens, hundreds, or thousands of years ago, the world wasn’t like this. The world wasn’t some broken-down, half-built place. I saw the pictures. This place, this specific community used to be some kind of forest. Now…well, it’s a place where buildings are only half finished and those that are, are remarkably beautiful. Except they’re half-finished.

 You see, the reason why Aeonia is so corrupted is because of the people. It’s because the people have gotten lazy because they don’t need anything. Aeonians don’t need food, water, a place to live in, et cetera. Aeonians don’t even need happiness. In fact, the only thing Aeonians need is tonic, some sort of old-fashioned energy drink. And the word ‘need’ doesn’t really apply.

 Maybe I shouldn’t judge too quickly. After all, if I didn’t need anything, maybe I’d go lazy too. But I’m not.

 There used to be another word for Aeonians. Before, they were called Immortals. Immortals seemed to have emerged out of nowhere when the planet was dying. Suddenly, before anyone knew it, Immortals had overtaken the mortals and before anyone knew it, nobody was dying. No one knows exactly how that happened.

 You may ask how an immortal population can fit in Aeonia. The answer would be because Aeonia is unending. Nobody has ever yet seen the end of Aeonia. Travellers have marched forward for years and years and yet have always returned, defeated and ignorant of the news of the end of Aeonia.

 Anyway, currently they’re bringing back the use of the word Immortals. Aeonians isn’t synonymous to the word Immortal anymore. That’s mainly because of me. You see, I’m an Aeonian. But I’m not an Immortal.

 Years ago, they realized I could hurt. They realized I could get sick. They realized I could actually bleed and not miraculously repel sharp weapons. And they realized I was dependent on basic needs like food and water. And they realized that I had a thirst for knowledge. I wanted to know how things worked.

 The first thing I wanted to know was why I was mortal. I was born to immortal parents, had immortal cousins, and lived in an immortal world. From reading some fragile books in a half-destroyed library (after my parents had finally got around to teaching me how to read), I learned the world wasn’t always immortal. I wanted to know why, of course. But even though I hadn’t inherited the laziness that seemed to have been spread everywhere, I didn’t have the sense of adventure. After all, I wasn’t forced to do anything about it. Nobody seemed to care about me anyway. That is, until now.