Return To Origin (eBook)

Vulpes Lupus Canis III

Chenerah 'Kecar' Gajaze (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2023 | 45. Auflage
263 Seiten
epubli (Verlag)
978-3-7575-6347-9 (ISBN)

Infos

After the human kind is successfully repelled, peace slowly returns to AlphaVul. The aged shepherd dog Chenerah, who avenges the death of his friend Amarok, resigns and regrets the outcome of his companions' story. After several years, the dog meets the young wolf king Rexion, who gives him the decisive flash of inspiration, which should make it possible to change time at its origin. The journey takes Chenerah to Gaja, ancient Egypt, over 2000 years into the past. The reason for the creation of his world, his being and his connection to the 'Architect', the builder of his history, is revealed to him (and thus also to the author) in some fundamental perceptions. The remaining riddles of the story unravel and order the mind of the author, who does not let his protégé out of his sight and stands in his way, changing his own book. The shepherd goes on a mission that could not be more serious and significant for him, just to realize that time is something that repairs and orders itself. In final encounters with the ancient Egyptian god Yanepu (Anubis) and his Gajan creator Chenerah fulfills the destiny predetermined for him since the beginning, makes peace in the spirit of the creator and closes the circle, which contains the origin and the end of his world equally.

Chenerah Gajaze lebt in einem kleinen Ort in Norddeutschland, ist Hobbyautor und Technik-Freund. Seit seiner Kindheit träumt er von einer anderen Welt und begann vor langer Zeit damit, sie mit den gegebenen Möglichkeiten zu gestalten - eben einen Traum ein Stück weit wahr werden zu lassen. Es ist sein Liebstes, seine Gedanken und Ideen in Form von Sience Fiction- oder Fantasy-Geschichten zu Papier zu bringen (oder eben die Festplatte damit zu füllen). Ein großes Thema seiner Werke ist die Liebe seiner Protagonisten. Ebenfalls interessiert aber die psychologische, emotionale Komponente, sowie die 'Reise zum Ursprung' seiner Charaktere.

Textauszug

XXII. Journey to the origin

 

 

L

ightly walking through the castle garden, Chenerah contemplated its appearance one more time. Every flower, every blade of grass, the order here: He had thought of all this as the creator of Vulpes Lupus Canis. Sadness came over him when he thought that soon all this would no longer exist, would never have existed.

He sighed loudly and tried to distract himself from these feelings. After all, what he was about to do was supposed to end suffering, not create new suffering. While he would have liked to turn around and get to know Rexion better, every additional day he waited was now one too many. He could not, out of selfish motives like curiosity, not do something that he knew would change everything for the better.

He walked briskly to a fast-travel station to take a train toward Alsatiania. He almost overlooked the fact that autumn had turned all the green into many shades of yellow and brown. The subtle beauty he had designed for the three realms of Arameria, Samojadja, and Alsatiania played a minor role in his book, but was always recognizable. The vastness of the lands, the many lakes and rivers: Everything had its place, its existence, its justification in it.

Just as the writer of a book was made of stardust, every being, every place, every thought had sprung from a pen whose ink was made of the same elements as he.

During the train ride, the male dog thought about whether the architect knew what he was up to. After all, he had detached himself from his protagonist, leaving him thinking and acting independently. So, could he suspect something, was he perhaps still steering?

The Kecar sank into pondering: What would happen to all his acquaintances and the individual characters if he were actually successful? What did his plan mean for the Vulpes Lupus Canis, for his own existence? He had already told Rexion that they would never see each other again, but was that true?

Everything was now uncertain. But this, it seemed, was the spirit of the life of an independent, striving individual. It seemed amazing to the dog how close his book was to the realities of the architect's reality. The world he imagined, the planet AlphaVul, Arameria, Samojadja and Alsatiania, all this was far from perfect. There was war, suffering, evil here. Why hadn't he created a fiction in which he could be happy? Self-hatred, self-flagellation?

'I may really understand little of your mind, human, though we are one and the same,' he finally summed up his thoughts as the train found its terminus near the Alsatian border.

Now the male dog had to walk a bit. Here he let the brooding end and breathed deeply and calmly.

"A beautiful day. Just right for the last one in which this world will matter," he spoke softly, arriving at his home after a while.

Chenerah immediately pushed aside his kitchen table and rolled up the gray carpet underneath, revealing a flap in the floorboard. Below was the small cellar of the house, where the dog kept his sword, the Ispocetka and the protector.

While he had not thought he would ever have to wear it again in his life, he told himself that there was no way to know now what lay ahead. So he put on the breastplate and noticed that it still fit him perfectly after all these years.

The Alsatian gently stroked the matte black, somewhat bluish shimmering material and sighed, "What a beautiful, indestructible masterpiece. Whoever made it: sensational! Still fits. Lucky I haven't put on weight."

He smiled, however, wearing the protector always meant danger ahead.

'If you are for protection, why did the architect create you? If he wants his children Joliyad, Amarok and me dead, it makes no sense', the male thought to himself and imagined that the Gajan could also possess this piece in its reality.

Perhaps this armor served as protection from a world that had to be just as evil and dangerous. Or was this part just a metaphor he had built into the story? Should this only be a symbol for psychological, not physical protection?

"Whatever it is, Gajan, this protection will not save you from what I will do," spoke the dog.

 

I sat on my sickbed and read these lines from my book. What was this turn of events? I had never written it down like this. I would have known about it if it had been like this.

"Come on, tell me what it is you're going to do! Where is this info? Don't talk in riddles. I implore you, Chenerah: don't do anything you might regret later," I said, reading the book.

Why didn't he tell me what he was about to implement? I could feel his thoughts, but they were of no real importance. Damn! He protected himself by letting me sit there ignorantly. This dog took advantage of the fact that he could now act independently and shape history himself.

I bit the insides of my cheeks and became angry. "Shit!", I shouted. "I need to know!"

 

Briskly, the Kecar took the shining sword, put it in its scabbard and stowed the Ispocetka in a pouch attached to his belt. He climbed out of the cellar vault and looked around his apartment one last time.

A frugal, low-key dog, he had furnished his home pragmatically and simply: White furniture, black dishes and cutlery, vases and other objects for contrast. There was no playfulness, no ornate style, but no clutter either. Everything had its place - almost like in the garden of the Wolf Queen. Functional simplicity meant order to the dog, and order meant security, clarity and tranquility to him.

"Well then ...", the dog sighed and left the house.

Later, when he arrived at a fast-travel station and wanted to go to Bolemare, he read on the display board that the current train would be cancelled. But the next one was to follow in a few moments.

The male sat down and looked around: A few more passengers were walking up and down the platform. Some were studying information boards, others were talking to themselves about the train cancellation. Everything was as it always was: Nothing was perfect, no matter how hard they tried to optimize processes. Something always didn't fit, because something always didn't work as expected.

The dog sighed and looked at the display. The next train was also to be cancelled today - and the following one as well! There was no indication of a general disruption. The trains were simply not running.

'I can't remember one situation where several trains didn't run as scheduled as a result,' he mused, then cringed inwardly.

"Oh no," he said to himself, because he understood that it was I, the architect, who was trying to stop him.

The Kecar looked angrily at the sky and spoke directly to me: "Come on. Let it be. I'll walk if need be."

 

I understood that more was needed to stop him.

 

The sovereign had already stood up again when he heard a whirring sound, which was very quiet at first and then became louder and louder. He guessed that a train was approaching, and the sound indicated that it was approaching at high speed and did not seem to slow down.

"What the ...?" he wondered in a whisper, his eyes widening as he saw the speeding train approaching.

I let the train enter the Station at maximum speed, so that in a slight curve it was torn out of the track with a thunderous noise, overturned in its entire length and missed my protagonist's head by a hair's breadth.

Shocked, the latter froze with its muzzle open and its heart racing as it heard the train, along with its passengers inside, hit the grass behind it and crash into a tree.

The vehicle was torn apart and caught fire. Loud screams and wails reached the dog's ears. This couldn't have really happened! By the gods! This could not have happened!

 

"Leave it!" I shouted angrily, clawing doggedly at the striped blanket of my hospital bed with one hand.

 

Suddenly I was startled when I read the next line of the novel, because what Gajaze was now shouting was again clearly directed at me: "No, I will not! And even if you take the whole world apart, you will never stop me!"

 

Stunned, I now froze and could only read on, unable to act:

 

The screams did not leave the dog cold, but he could not help the passengers. As burning bodies ran toward him, flailing their arms, Chenerah felt the inner conflict of wanting to help but not being able to, since all this would never have happened in a short time anyway.

"Oh, damn it! I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, turning away from the action and running.

In no time at all, dark clouds gathered and drops began to fall to the earth. Rain began to fall and loud thunder could be heard.

The rustling of the colorful treetops almost choked the dog's words as he shouted, "You're not going to stop me! Go fuck yourself!"

 

I played with him a bit, had lightning strike a nearby tree and split its trunk with a loud crash.

 

Chenerah was startled, but courageously showed his fangs and ran even faster. His clothes were now completely soaked and heavy, and only with difficulty did he manage to orient himself in the gray of the scenery. However, he was not deterred and his legs did not stop carrying him further and further.

 

Whatever I tried, I would not be able to break his will. On the other hand, I could not possibly let him do what he was about to implement. I suspected that he would try to change the course of history, but I could not imagine what his next steps would be.

The Alsatian walked for quite a while through the rain, whose intensity diminished, until he stood on the...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 2.7.2023
• Verlagsort: Berlin
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• Schlagworte: Anthro • anthropomorphic • Anubis • Egypt • Fantasy • Furry • Philosophy
• ISBN-10: 3-7575-6347-6 / 3757563476
• ISBN-13: 978-3-7575-6347-9 / 9783757563479