Memzo

Memzo's Arc
Chapter 2 of 2

Memzo's dream is mastering the art of translating emotions into universal telepathic symbols.

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by @Haze

Chapter 2

Memzo floated inside the tower's first chamber. The golden runes pulsed gently around them. Their bell glowed soft yellow—eager but uncertain. They needed to start somewhere simple. A basic feeling. A clear symbol. Joy seemed easiest. Everyone knew joy when they felt it. Memzo drifted through the tower's arched doorway to the grounds outside. A copper cylinder stood in the shallow water, taller than Memzo's bell. Dark purple liquid swirled inside it. Silver spheres floated within the liquid, moving in slow circles. The device hummed softly. Memzo had heard about tools like this—built to strengthen the connections between minds. They reached out with their thoughts toward the cylinder. The silver spheres began to spin faster. Warmth spread through Memzo's bell. Their own thoughts felt sharper, clearer. The device was working. If Memzo could practice reading emotions here, where every feeling came through stronger, they might finally learn which mental shape meant joy. Which pattern meant sadness. They pulled back and floated around the cylinder, studying it from every angle. Tomorrow they would bring the orb here and begin real training. But first, Memzo needed knowledge. The cylinder would help them feel emotions more clearly, but they needed to understand how others had done this work before. A library stood on the red rocks beyond the town—a sleek building that held records from centuries past. Memzo left the tower and swam toward it. Inside, rows of crystal tablets lined the walls. Each one contained memories preserved by ancient telepaths. Memzo touched the first tablet. Images flooded their mind—beings from long ago, trying to share feelings across different worlds. Some had failed. Some had come close. None had finished what Memzo was trying to start. Their bell shifted to orange. The answers weren't here, but the questions were. Tomorrow, when they brought the orb to the cylinder, they would have to create what no one else had managed. They would have to begin from nothing. Memzo returned to the tower as the red sun set over Nereidum. They found a workbench outside near the cylinder, built from purple wood with copper edges. Floating runes drifted above its surface when Memzo approached. This would be their space for creating symbols. They touched the workbench and a rune appeared—simple, glowing blue. Memzo focused on joy and tried to shape the rune differently. It flickered but held its form. Wrong. They tried again. The rune split into two pieces, then merged back together. Still wrong. Hours passed. Memzo's bell dimmed to gray, then sparked back to yellow. One more try. They thought of joy—the feeling from watching the performers, the warmth in their bell when the cylinder worked. The rune twisted, stretched, and formed a new shape. A spiral opening outward. Memzo held it steady. This was the first symbol. This was the beginning.

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