it is a popular belief that before existence, there is nothing; no flicker of light or consciousness, no shimmering mass of energy among the aether, no wandering spirits parsing new lives for a home. the space before conception is simply a void, and the creation of life is the start of existence itself.

yet so many other theories exist, so many alternatives which form the core of the myriad systems of belief throughout the world. countless iterations of form, thought, feeling. for all these explanations, we find more questions than answers among them. we wonder which is true. maybe none of them are.

or maybe all of them are. maybe we each live our own truth, experiencing the before and after of life as uniquely as the living itself. versions of the world in all different shades like a field of flowers blossoming into a million new realities.

the following story will be an exploration of one of the many realities blooming into existence in the teekon wilds. this is panacea's truth.


the night he became a wolf again, the moon could nearly have been mistaken for full. no one would know it at a glance. it peered in hopeful slivers of light past the lethargic muddle of a thick cloud cover, winking in and out of view with each heavy shift of the clouds.

but the newly-dubbed panacea knew. he felt it, in the moment just before his dark lodgings shifted and gave way to something much bigger.

he felt gentle wind in the trees. he felt sparse rain scattering over dirt and snow and sand. he felt the sun rising to one end of the world and sinking away from the other. all of it, all at the same time.

and then the universe blinked away, and panacea was left bereft; mortal, breathing, and wholly alone.

but this was how things had always gone, wasn’t it? he remembered it now, every life before this, every existence he’d flitted into and out of throughout the centuries. this was no different.

most of all, he remembered the forest of gold. the hazy paradise of sweet sunshine and fragrant fruit, the between-place where time held no meaning and the plagues of mortality dared not venture. the place where he'd rested for so long, so many years after he'd shed alarian to become one with the universe again... or had it only felt that way? it seemed an eternity. he remembered laughter and love, respite alongside the one who had never left his side. his soul’s companion. he wondered where they had gone… but he knew he would find them again. somewhere, someday, they would be reunited. in this life or the next.

a warmth filled him then. gilded contentment like the sun-kissed leaves of the glittering purgatory he’d left behind. panacea closed his eyes and allowed the feeling to lull the last of his thoughts from him. the old soul drifted into a deep and intoxicating sleep.

when he woke, he would remember nothing; he would know only his new life. his new truth.

panacea.