Jiva (Soul) - Intraspecies Opinion

Dr. Mogens Kirkegaard loves his job. Working as a neurologist in one of Lingua’s largest hospitals, he helps a lot of people every day. He loves the hustle and bustle of the healthcare atmosphere. He thrives off the joy his patients express when he finds the right diagnosis and treatment that actually helps. He and his nurses use state-of-the-art technology to treat and cure the sick and suffering. But sometimes being around so many needy people and so much technology drains him. The sterile-white hallways are suffocating and winding and he needs to be outside, to breathe and feel alive again. It’s times like these when he hands in his huge piling of Paid Time Off and disappears from Sermos for a few weeks, leaving his colleagues and patients behind.

Mogens loves his medical profession, but he also loves the great outdoors. He has an adventurous streak that can only be satisfied by conquering mountain peaks under his own power, plus necessary equipment like ropes and ice axes. No ordinary day hike will do; Mogens’ physical fitness and expertise have reached a level where he spends days or even weeks on the same trail until he claims victory at the very top, traversing several thousand feet up and down the slopes. His healthy salary provides him the means to invest in the best gear, the warmest clothes, and the comfiest boots.

Though bonded to several Paralogos, he only takes Lhakpa on these mountaineering expeditions. She is the only Paralogos under his care whose word focus, “altitude,” is unrelated to anything anatomical or biological, albeit perfect for alpine adventuring. Brave and eager for adventure, she’s independent enough not to slow Mogens down and her magic suits the pair well when attempting climbs.

So when Mogens and Lhakpa left for a month-long expedition to summit Mount Witmere, the third-tallest peak on the continent, the rest of Mogens’ Paralogos bid them farewell and safe travels as usual. However, when they returned, Mogens was unusually quiet and distant. Even Tessa, whose “oxytocin” word focus compelled her to make those around her feel happy and loved, couldn’t break her caretaker’s spell.

She got Lhakpa’s attention by tugging on her arm fur. “What’s wrong with him?”

Lhakpa tensed. The others could tell she was also a bit off on her return, but she hid her distress better than Mogens and mostly put on a brave face.

“He’s fine, just give him time to readjust to lower level altitudes,” Lhakpa dismissed. She tried to turn away from the conversation.

Tessa didn’t buy it. She held her grip on the larger Paralogos. “We all know your magic prevents the doctor from experiencing any kind of altitude sickness. There’s nothing physically wrong with him, but I can’t get through to him at all.” She looked Lhakpa in the eyes. “What happened out there?”

The others gathered around the pair, eager to hear what caused their beloved caretaker to act so strangely. Luca removed his headset and listened with full attention. Huxley stood stock-still, a stark contrast to his usual energized state. Mulder’s biceps flexed as he folded his arms, muttering about messing up whoever did this. Even Penny, who kept a level head and was unphased by even the rowdiest of patients, wrung her hands with worry.

Lhakpa’s gaze swept over her friends and fellow bonded Paralogos and she sighed. She owed them the truth.

“We… had a strange encounter,” she started. “I don’t know how to properly describe it without sounding silly.”

Mulder scooted a stool over and promptly sat on its cushion. “I’ve got time,” he nodded. “Spill the beans, and then I’ll tell you if you’re being a knucklehead.”

“You’re Lhakpa,” Luca stated incredulously. “You don’t bat an eye towards danger. So when you’re this shaken up, it must be serious.”

“Alright,” Lhakpa conceded, “I’ll tell you what happened.”

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As you know, this expedition’s goal was to summit Mount Witmere. It’s fairly remote, being settled within the mountain range that nearly spans our continent. Getting there was half the adventure - we had to charter two planes and a jeep to reach the closest village, then hike several days to reach base camp.

Some of the mountains we climb are very culturally significant to the people that inhabit their shadows, so Mogens and I always take time to observe their customs. These people are a lot more spiritual than cityfolk down here, as they rely more on nature for their way of life. Since we are outsiders and guests, we do our utmost to respect and appreciate their home.

Before heading out to base camp, we partook in a ceremony to grant us safe passage on the slopes. The Paralogos there warned me of a terrible monster on the mountain who goes after those that disrespect it. They described it as a blue ghost carrying a glowing lantern. If the light goes out - you are dead. Mogens and I weren’t strangers to superstitions like this, but we heeded their warnings and took the ceremony very seriously.

The first part of the climb went fairly well. We made great progress each day, acclimatizing bit by bit. We had one scare where the snow crumbled under Mogens’ boot and he lost his balance, but I caught him before he fell into a sizable crevasse. Several climbers gave up and retreated back to the village the higher we went, but that’s to be expected. Some people get hit hard with altitude sickness, and I’m not always around to help.

Our trouble, of course, came on summit day.

The first part of the day went as expected. We left our tent just before midnight, blessed with calm weather and still wind. The sun rose as we climbed and we reached the summit by noon. We took pictures, if you’d like to see them. The view was beautiful and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. But getting to the top is the easy part - descending back to camp is where it gets dangerous.

The weather turned sour in the late afternoon, when we were halfway down to camp. Our pace slowed to a crawl since visibility was so poor. The snowfall was so thick, you could barely see ten feet in front of you. A large bottleneck formed on one of the ridges where you’re forced to clip onto a rope and walk single-file. Someone up ahead was fiddling with their oxygen bottle, causing the line to stop. A climber right behind us got impatient, so he unclipped from the rope and tried to scooch around us.

In his haste, he slipped.

We could only stand and watch as he tumbled down, his form quickly shrouded by the snow flurries. We couldn’t go after him, for we’d only put ourselves and others in danger. Unfortunately, accidents happen on big ascents like this.

We eventually made our way past the bottleneck and could pick up our pace, when further down the slopes we encountered the man who fell. He was laying against a rock that likely broke his fall and he wasn’t moving.

Mogens quickly assessed him, searching for signs of life and noting injuries. I was conjuring up my magic to try to help the man breathe easier at altitude when a blue light appeared before us.

Just as the Paralogos from the village described, a blue ghostly figure descended on the injured man. It flared its wings in an aggressive motion, forcing Mogens and I back. I couldn’t believe my eyes - it looked like… a Paralogos? It had a crest, segmented tail, and dinosaur feet, but its body was ethereal. Like it was two-dimensional. It had these large feathered wings with golden tips and its body twinkled like starlight. And those eyes. Those eyes haunt me.

It held a great golden lantern in its hands with a small flame that flickered within. It opened the lantern door and I for sure thought we were goners. I held onto Mogens tightly and didn’t take my eyes off the lantern, willing it with my mind to stay lit.

With its free hand it formed a fist a few inches above the injured man’s chest and pulled upwards, as if tugging on an invisible string. And… a new light formed. Like a small flame. Without touching the fire it guided the flame into its lantern, which burned brighter from the addition. It latched the object shut and stared at us. Through us. With another gust of wind and snow, it was gone.

I honestly don’t remember much after that. I’m sure Mogens is the same. We continued down the mountain purely by instinct. I know we couldn’t do anything for the man - he had no vitals. We collapsed in our tents when we finally reached camp late that evening, but I haven’t slept well since.

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Lhakpa’s voice trailed off, unsure how to finish the story. She frowned, staring at the floor as her mind swirled.

Mulder stood up from his stool and placed his palm on her shoulder. “Lhakpa,” he said. “You are not being a knucklehead.”

“The light,” Penny whispered. “You said the other Paralogos warned you about the light going out.”

“Yes,” Lhakpa affirmed. “I thought they meant the lantern. But it was the injured man who’s light went out. And he died, right in front of us.”

They were all quiet for a moment as they digested Lhakpa’s words. Huxley was the first to break the silence. “That’s… an incredible power that ghostly Paralogos wields. The kind of power only a Wicked has.” The group shuddered in fear.

Tessa cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Lhakpa, for what you and our doctor went through. We’re here for you both. Take all the time you need to process and grieve what transpired.” Lhakpa smiled weakly in thanks.

“What does this mean for future expeditions?” Luca asked. Tessa shot him a disapproving glare, to which he shrugged in response.

“Nothing,” Lhakpa puffed up. “We’ll be back. Maybe not to Mount Witmere, but there are plenty of mountains we’ve yet to conquer. Our legs still work, don’t they? We just got a little scared, is all.”

Mulder slung an arm across Lhakpa’s back. “You take me with ya, and I’ll make sure that stupid ghost won’t dare come near you. I’ll have that thing in a headlock faster than it can open its stupid little light box.”

That put a real smile on Lhakpa’s face. “Thanks, Mulder, I appreciate it.” She felt a lot better talking about her experience and her feelings with her friends.

The six Paralogos continued about their day, completing tasks to help serve the neurology patients. It took Mogens longer to open up about his thoughts, and his bonds were there to help him feel supported.

Sure enough, six months later he and Lhakpa were back on another mountain trail.