WnW 11.a – Coalescence

The lone butterfly saw the world as splotches of light and dark colours as it flapped along on gossamer wings. To such a small organism the air was like water, thick and viscous, pulling this way and that like a turbulent storm that the butterfly was at the whims of at all times. In order to navigate the world in this state, the butterfly had three drives that gave it purpose and direction.

The first drive was the detection of light that allowed it to orient its body correctly relative to the sun. The butterfly flew along and alighted on a strange flower to feed. The shades of ultraviolet and deep crimson on the petals made it stand out more than the others. Food was the second drive.

At that moment, the butterfly felt the pull of a third drive, more nebulous and distant, yet compelling in a different way to survival. It had no comprehension of what this meant, only the base instinct that pulsated, drawing it closer. As it took flight, another butterfly bumped into it. Their fields of perception overlapped like two droplets of water meeting. The convergence sharpened everything around them ever so slightly, giving more detail, like a photo from a different angle added new elements to a composition.

Soon two more butterflies joined them, their senses snapping together like jigsaw pieces. Vibrations became more nuanced, patterns in the world around them could be noticed. They remained together, exploring this new world in close proximity, feeling the edges of their awareness as a kind of leash that kept them from straying too far.

More and more violet butterflies slotted into the arrangement and the shared perception grew.

“Look Mom!”

The sounds meant nothing to the butterflies. They steered clear of the gargantuan organism, the motion of his finger raising to point triggering survival instincts. Yet the human could be perceived now. What was before a jumble of colours and motion had coalesced into an entity that could be comprehended. It wasn’t just sight and sound. Greater understanding was linked to the convergence as well.

“Wow! There’s so many of them.”

A larger human had spoken this, holding the leash of a dog who was pulling hard, whining.

The woman ushered the child away. “Quickly, Charles. We don’t want to be out here for long. And how many times do I have to tell you? Don’t touch the flowers. They could be dangerous. They were planted by that thing in the sky.”

The accumulation of sensations was paralyzing. The world became larger and clearer and the butterflies sat on flowers, confused. The third drive hadn’t been sated by this union. If anything, it was getting much stronger.

A teen walked through the flowers, scattering the butterflies into the air. They swarmed around him and he lifted his hood to stare curiously at them. His eyes met theirs and something sparked in the ether between the individual insects. The third drive pulled and now they listened. Ignoring their baser instincts, they moved away from the sun and into a nearby cave. This world was dark and cold. The only thing that could be heard was the young man panting as he climbed through.

The third drive beckoned.

The shared perception was broken in the dark space. Links of the chain went missing as butterflies lagged behind and got lost, their drive growing weaker without the help of the others.

Soon the tunnel opened into a large cave, with the warm light of the sun casting a golden hue onto the far wall. The butterflies gathered there, weary from the journey. Some landed on flowers that grew from the soil that had been spread around the cave. 

Another human was here. This one tended to the flowers with hands that smelled of the loam.

The young man entered the cave, bringing some butterflies with him as they had sought safe passage on his shoulders and head. His mouth opened and vibrations came out. The gardener responded in kind.

Some butterflies found their way back to the group through a hole in the ceiling of the cave. Snapping into place, soon the words were clarified, even if they meant nothing.

“It took a lot of searching. I’ve been looking for months. The locals said they saw a meteor land in this cave, but nothing ever came out to attack them.”

This cave was the epicenter of the third drive. It beat incessantly, drawing the small minds together into something larger. The butterflies gathered on the walls, crawling over each other in a writhing mass like they were bees.

“I thought I could try my hand at it.” The gardener gestured to the slightly wilted flowers on the cave floor. “Something to honor her, maybe grow a little closer to those memories. But I can’t even do this right.”

Their hands dropped to their sides, head hung low to their chest.

“I’m so, so sorry,” the young man said, his fists balled up at his sides. “I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you. We all miss her.”

“It’s so quiet…” Tears fell down the gardener’s face. “I’m so alone without her.”

The young man went to the crying one and knelt beside them. He wrapped them up in his arms and hugged them closer.

More butterflies snapped together, joining the system. At a certain point, the world did not become any sharper with each addition and instead new meaning was introduced. The sobs of the gardener meant something. Yet with no unified mind to bear it, that meaning remained a trembling anxiety in the wings and antennae of the insects. Another trigger was necessary to spark the next step.

The butterflies swarmed fervently, trying all manner of behaviour to open the lock that held them captive. In a shared realization, certain patterns created words. Wingtips and limbs joined together. The air seemed to writhe with anticipation between each small mind.

A single word was crafted. HERE.

The young man saw it first, written on the wall with living wings.

“Hey…” he said, pointing.

The crying one looked up, eyes wet. Bewilderment turned to recognition and then to a frail and hesitant hope.

“Kay?” 

The name shuddered through the congregation and those vibrations drew together the minds, melding them into one. The thick mass of black and shimmering purple fell off the wall with an audible thud.

The minds became me.

I rose from the mass, extracting pieces of my body that I remembered. My face, my arms, my chest. Each one drawn together through intense focus, the small bodies melding together to shape bone and muscles and skin. Eyes formed in my head, although it no longer felt like I was seeing out of them. Instead, I perceived with my whole body. I could even glimpse small motions outside the cave, where some of my parts were still distant. I called them to me, desiring to be whole.

It was AJ and… someone else staring at me, mouths hanging open in stunned silence.

I took stock of my body. Wings flared rhythmically on my sides like gills, revealing the shimmering scales underneath my pale skin. My legs hadn’t formed properly and it was more like I was growing out of a singular pillar.

I opened my mouth and butterflies tumbled out. I coughed and spat, then tried again, giving them a sheepish smile. 

“I guess I’m back.”

AJ ran to me, tackling me in a hug. I shuddered as parts of my body were knocked off from the impact. I closed my eyes and focused on drawing them back in. It was easier now, my control had ascended to a higher plane where I could see each butterfly as simply an extension instead of a remote entity.

I patted AJ on the head.

“Kay, everything is so fucked up. You have no idea,” he said.

“Glad to be back. I’ll help however I can,” I said while staring at the person who was wiping tears from their eyes. Why did they seem so familiar?

“Nick?!” I practically yelled.

They gave me a small smile.

“Their name is Sage now,” AJ whispered, pulling away from the hug.

“I’m dead for two minutes and now you have boobs?! We have so much catching up to do.”

Sage’s face screwed up and then a hearty laugh escaped their lips. They gave a real smile, a genuine one, the kind that I had only seen once or twice in the whole time I’d known Nick.

“Yeah, I guess we do.”