Parthia (Epilogue) - Younger Days

River Broussard loved to read. Bedtime consisted of at least 3 stories, else their brain couldn’t calm down enough to let the poor child rest. They graduated beyond picture tales quickly and easily absorbed chapter books by the time they started public school. Once they started to learn how to write and type, there was no stopping the eager child. They spent much of their time writing new ideas. Every evening after dinner, the dark-haired youngster bounded off to their room to delve back into the word of fantasy. Cheek cradled in one palm and the other poking a tablet screen one letter at a time, they lazily kicked their feet back and forth as they organized their thoughts onto the screen in front of them. If only they put this much focus towards school work.

Their voracity for written works was only amplified by the family’s Paralogos companion, Parthia. Adopted into the family when River was a toddler, the Paralogos ended up taking a liking to the child and bonded with them, despite barely being able to form coherent sentences at the time. It shared the child’s love for stories and would always join in for bedtime tales, snuggly tucked into River’s lap.

Parthia first came as a tabula rasa. Its hide was gray and instead of a series of circular lights down its body, it had a single ribbon of light stretching from the corner of its eyes to the tip of its tail. As River grew older, so too did Parthia. Over time, the Paralogos’ gray hide turned a lovely shade of mahogany, reminding one of ancient wooden bookshelves that held genuine tomes. Together they learned to read and write, how to create compelling stories and how to use the right phrasing. The Paralogos was particularly interested in how tales ended. River would always laugh and scold the dinosaur for skipping to the last few digital pages to read the ending. “You shouldn’t spoil yourself!” they’d say, but Parthia did it anyway. It insisted good tales needed to start with a good ending.

River and Parthia were two peas in a pod; when they weren’t writing they were playing with one another, acting out their scenes with pillow forts and plastic toys. They constantly shared ideas and would proudly present completed works to the human’s parents. Although River was an only child, they were never alone.

When they were 7, River’s interest in reading and writing started to wane. At first, their parents weren’t concerned, as this meant they could spend more time playing outside and developing critical social skills with other children. But River was too tired to go outside or do much of anything at all. They started complaining of aches and pains in their limbs and bruises would show up out of nowhere. Hunger became a foreign concept as they started refusing food. Increasingly concerned, the Broussards brought their child to the hospital where they were given a leukemia diagnosis.

Parthia, never having left its bonded human’s side, became obsessed with River’s prognosis. The longer the child spent in the hospital, the more the Paralogos heard about other kids with similar ailments not making a recovery. Every day it studied River’s test results and noted down updated predictions. It realized its true word focus - Epilogue - and was mentally spiraling as the imminent threat of its caretaker’s condition haunted its thoughts. Terrified of the future but paralyzed in action, Parthia never moved from River’s lap as they lay in the hospital bed and snapped at anyone that tried to move it.

Weeks turned into months and despite Parthia’s grim outlook, River miraculously pulled through. After rounds of treatments, the test results improved each day as the young child slowly regained their strength. Before long, River was back to their old self, including their affinity for stories. They rung the bell in the hallway, an action they desperately looked forward to that signified triumph and good health, and were discharged back home to make a full recovery. Being so young, they bounced back and returned to normal life relatively easily.

The same could not be said for Parthia. Having nearly experienced its caretaker’s demise, it obsessed over death and what would befall everyone around them. The mental trauma of the hospital stay split its personality, which manifested in its physical form’s head literally splitting into two. Once beautiful emerald eyes now stared back as two pairs of eyes, one yellow and one blue. Strange, half-leather and half-feathered wings sprouted from its shoulders. It gained the ability to summon a magical scroll that sometimes revealed grim predictions of individuals nearby, which empowered its delusions.

The Broussards, alarmed at the family Paralogos’ change in behavior, tried to remove it from the household. River held their ground, however, and vowed to help Parthia through recovery just as it had done for them. They had to resort to online and home-schooling, as the Paralogos’ behavior could only be kept in check with River there to distract it and talk down the obsessive thoughts.

Unlike the human’s illness, Parthia never recovered mentally. In the two decades since, both Paralogos and caretaker learned to manage symptoms and outbursts. They relocated to a remote beachside town, partially for River’s surfing interests but also to limit Parthia’s contact with other people. Life is stable again, although the Broussards don’t get to see their only child as much as they like. But for Parthia, River insists all the sacrifices were worth it.