Category Archives: Multiversal

Creationivity

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I’ve been working away at this concept of a novel series, Elyen, for over a decade now, though it’s gone by a number of other names in its earlier forms. Maybe it should not be taking me as long to make the kind of progress that I have in that time (which I will deliberately not specify), but the fact is that the story has changed immensely from its original concept.

I think that, out of all of the changes, the most profound is that of my role as the story’s author. In fact, I seriously question if ‘author’ is even now the right word for it anymore. What I mean by that is this: When I first set out to work on what is now Elyen, I had no doubt in my mind whatsoever that I was the story’s author, it’s creator. It wasn’t even a question. There was no alternative way of looking at my relationship with that early body of work, no other function to it beyond that which you would expect to exist between an author and his story.

Now, I see myself as being more of a reporter, if anything. The story might as well be its own living thing, and I am merely studying it. The universe (/multiverse/metaverse) that is Elyen, and the world of Drendast in particular, have become their own sovereign domains, into which I am now little more than a privileged guest, granted the freedom to write about anything I see.

I am become Marco…

Anyways, I’m sure you can imagine how perplexing it is to arrive at a conclusion like that and then pair it with the notion that I likewise exist as some unknown element within that same story as well.

So now I question whether I have ever created anything now encompassed within the body of work that is now, and will yet be, Elyen. This threw my head for a little spin when I really started thinking about it last night. My conclusion, however, is that I have created (and now maintain) the means by which I observe and report the goings on in Drendast. And that’s still a very vital part in the grand scheme of things, though not as dictatorial (why can’t we just shorten that down to just ‘dictorial’??) as what I believed my role was when I first began.

I now believe that the events which unfold in Elyen do so largely independently of how I might wish for them to, and that the characters have every bit as much free will as I believe that I, myself, have. I am unaware of what influence or impact I may or may not still have, if I ever had any to begin with. In either case, when I record something and it goes into the body of work known as Elyen, I understand that such things could just as easily have gone any other way. More accurately, given the multiversal nature of Elyen, it should be stated that anything I record is simply only one way (out of countless other ways all taking place simultaneously and in parallel) that things are going.

And if there’s one thing I wish to convey through the writing of Elyen, it’s that anything and everything that can happen, is happening. The question is not “what happens in Elyen?“, but rather, “which version of events am I seeing unfolding in Elyen?“

…Polo.

Drendast, Part 1: The Big Picture

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My best attempt to track down the original creator of this image came up inconclusive, but there’s a strong chance that credit for this picture goes out to BBC. Or Mother Nature. Or a space agency of one sort or another. Or an artist, you know, like the kind who render images like these for fun. Either way.

I’ve been sitting on a lot of ideas pertaining to the story I’ve been working on called Elyen for a long time now, but in all this time, I’ve hardly shared any of the details publicly. This is my first major disclosure of some of the bits and pieces I’ve got going on so far, starting first with the setting.

Much of Elyen toys with the idea of parallel universes/multiverses. In fact, Elyen is the name of a particular(ly large) multiverse, within which the characters will end up doing a great deal of sight-seeing. At the heart of Elyen is the planet Drendast, serving as a the primary hub between universes.

Drendast is a mega water-planet forged in the ether eons ago. It is absolutely massive. It originally sported no less than 12 super-continent sized landmasses called Subworlds spread evenly across its surface and separated by unfathomable distances of sheer ocean. It is so huge that rather than orbiting around a star, it had three of its very own sun-sized stars orbiting around it, ensuring a perpetual state of day light . 

Had, was the operative word. Around ten thousand years ago or so (according to the few surviving historical records), one of the suns orbiting around Drendast came crashing down, causing massive devastation in its wake. But rather than destroy the planet outright, Drendast happened to be SO huge that it absorbed the worst of the impact without crumbling apart or evaporating away. Many myths abound to this day attempting to explain the cause of the judgement that reigned down from the heavens that fateful day.

Originally, the three suns were Tropreus, Neora and Selah. Now, only Selah and Neora remain.

Originally, Drendast had 12 thriving Subworlds. Now, a full third of them have either been rendered uninhabitable, or were vaporized completely.

Much of the action in the early stages of the story will take place on one of the remaining Subworlds called Sarenalis (Ser`n`AY`liss). Before the Fall of Tropreus, there was never (or very, very seldom?) any night fall. Like on most Subworlds, many of the creatures which evolved there had the benefit of being photovorus (light-eating).

There was certainly enough sunlight to power all of creation indefinitely when all three stars circled the world. However, since the Fall, all life became a struggle. Sarenalis was one of the Subworlds least affected by the Fall since it was located on the complete opposite side of the planet from where the impact took place. Still, great suffering occurred there as much as anywhere else where the night touched.

Once great and peaceful creatures took to predation and killing all in order to survive in the face of scarcity and chaos. Civilization fell into disproportionate states of disarray. Many advances in medicine and technology were lost. Most importantly, the Subworlds, which were once connected to one another by a series of ethereal channels (often mistaken for wormholes by outsiders) called Conduits, were now completely isolated. The oceans between Subworlds were simply too vast to ever cross using most surviving conventional methods of transportation of the day.

Geographic separation began to take its course. At the height of Drendain evolution in the day was a humanoid race known as the Sævanii. Ever since the Fall, the separation between Subworlds forced the original Sævian line to branch out and become distinctly new entities.

Now, nearly ten thousand years following the calamity that Tropreus brought down, the Conduits have slowly begun to repair, re-establishing the links between the remaining Subworlds, but more than that, re-establishing the links between Drendast and the now-wild external multiverse at large. Mighty airships have also begun to make an appearance, slowly replacing reliance on the Conduits as the only way to get around the planet.

Many creatures have begun to adapt to the new nightfall conditions, even making sense of the star-and-constallation-filled night skies for the first time in all recorded Drendain history. New ecological niches have begun to mature. Balance and vitality were slowly being restored to the planet.

However, a new element began to materialize in the natural world still very much under-repair: Ambition. Can the devastated people of Drendast survive this strange new drive emerging from among them to carve out a competitive way of life for themselves so soon after their world was nearly destroyed?

Learning Curve

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K, I’ve said before that I’m an adherent to (a rather bastardized version of) the Multi-Worlds Interpretation of quantum mechanics, and to parallel universes by extension. Don’t ask me to elaborate on that in anything approximating a technical jargon, but I can spin loose and fast notions and concepts together all night if I had to. Certainly not with any authority, but with wonder and awe to anyone willing to listen.

More importantly, I have a hard time stating up front whether any of what I’m about to say next is “real” or not, because, for all I know, it very well could be. What I can do is assert that I have no bloody proof one way or the other, but, in classic fashion, I won’t hesitate to speculate and conjecture up some ideas as they come to me.

I wonder about the collective conscious. If it exists, it’s notorious for being invisible, intangible, and otherwise non-directly knowable. We can only infer it’s supposed qualities based on it’s perceived effects, which are highly subject to, well, subjectivity. But like most things, it’s difficult to disprove completely. It may be more sensible to discount it until we discover something more concrete about it, but doing so could be limiting our full view of what might really be going on.

In the meantime, I’ll take the difficulty in disproving negatives (or rather, the art of ignoring established improbabilities) under advisement and proceed, regardless, with a suggestion that the collective conscious may, in fact, exist. In some senses, it may be indistinguishable from certain concepts of “God”, if that helps (it doesn’t, I know, but just humour me).

Here’s my supposition: I can’t help but wonder if there is not some kind of over-arching consciousness that serves as a memory or experience bank for us temporal beings, one that allows us to draw on future learning without necessarily being aware of what we’re accessing or even when.

Think of it this way: A large majority of non-open world videos games still follow a vaguely linear progression. Hell, even open-world games still have fairly established event sequences, only with more flexibility. But in whatever case, when something goes wrong, the power is in the player’s hands to revert to a prior save or check point, and redo certain actions, only with a heads up. Knowledge gained from prior attempts now carries over and allows the character to accomplish things they might not have before.

The thing is, the character, even though they’re the ones directly living out the events, does not retain memory of their actions or of the events they experience. All of that lies within the domain of the player (in so far as I am aware of the level of sentience typical video game characters possess. Please correct me if I’m wrong). It’s a classic divide that anyone who’s ever played any table top RPG’s, having given it any real thought, has probably stumbled around.

Player-character lines may also make up a wider relationship dynamic within a larger multiversal structure. I have no idea what exactly that structure looks like, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the collective conscious is (at least from our perspective) a kind of passive monitoring system.

Maybe that’s a bit of an ego-centric head trip. If we’re the character, and the collective conscious is whatever passes for a player on that level of existence, then we’re the passive sensory platforms feeding information back up to it, and it, whatever it is, is ultimately what may be calling the shots.

But who can say for sure? Maybe it has nothing to do with ‘up above’ and ‘down below’. Maybe it’s no more a lofty, executive-level operating system overseeing our lowly, experiential-level of existence as yin is to yang. Perhaps it’s just two (possibly interchangeable) sides of the same coin.

What I would assume, however, is that there is a multitude of alternate versions of ourselves out there in the multiverse, not only in same-moment parallel universes (where similar events are happening in sync), but also dynamic-moment parallel universes (where similar timelines are being experienced at different points along their sequences). So, this would mean that the me that I was 3 years ago, say, is experiencing the events of 3 years ago, only that it is doing so presently. Equally true, potentially, is that the me which is experiencing events taking place at the tail end of 2016 (3 years from now) is also doing so presently (albeit without my direct awareness of it, of course) as well.

In fact, any point in time that has happened, any alternate version of events which might have happened, any version of events which could be happening now instead of those which presently appear to be actually taking place now, as well as the host of all possible future events which the present me has no direct knowledge of as of yet… all these things and more would be plain to whatever over-arching collective consciousness (or god-like being) may or may not exist.

What’s fascinating to me is not so much that it brings my free will into question so much as that I feel safe trusting it, whatever it is (could be nothing, and I’m wasting my breath and effort even trying to describe it. Who knows?). As far as I’m concerned, this collective conscious behaves in such a way that I can only infer to be for my good, in the same way that a player, more often than not, conducts a character’s actions in such a way so as to lead towards favourable events and outcomes more often than not.

I believe that “luck” is a direct result of unknown collective conscious processes

I don’t feel compelled or controlled by anyone or anything in particular (that doesn’t exclude the possibility that I actually am, only I am unaware of that fact or incapable of perceiving it), but I do see that my life, for the most part, is good. I understand that an untold number of other versions of me could very well have met unfortunate demises in other universes, but that an over-arching, memory-and-experience-banking side of me (whatever my place might be within the collective conscious) learns.

It believe that it (that I?) makes mistakes and adapts, and as a result, there are an equal number of untold versions of me (including this one that I have explicit awareness of, the one that I call ‘me’, the one that is typing this up right now), who benefit from the ability of my collective self to learn from my collective experiences in order to realize beneficial outcomes whenever possible.

I don’t know what all there is to learn, but if it’s good, then I don’t want it to be for just me. I see no reason why this dynamic wouldn’t also be true for every person rather than just me. Perhaps there’s an ever wider enveloping collective conscious that not only looks over all versions of a single person at all points in their multiple existences, but also a grand collective conscious that brings together all of the collective consciousnesses of all people.

[Edit: I believe the classic sense of “collective conscious” refers to something consisting of the conscious impressions of many souls in a given realm or area, such as perhaps that of humans — or of all life — on Earth. The description of “collective conscious” I have been talking about instead looked at an isolated individual’s potential collective self spread across multiple universes/timelines first before giving consideration the more classic sense second]

Now I begin to wonder if there wouldn’t be a perpetual blur between where one person ends and another begins… Perhaps this is evidence for the need for what feels like immutable separation of persons. Or, perhaps, that is just a natural side effect of being ego-centric. Maybe other versions of myself have absolutely no trouble feeling a fluid sense of oneness amongst ourselves and likewise with others. Such a concept eludes my ability to imagine vividly, but I find the idea fascinating nonetheless.