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What are we Travellers? I don't know.

We were always seen as godsents, when we are the exact opposite. Thrown in between people by assumed major forces, by those dwelling up above the heavens. I lost count of how many deities have been our bosses 'til date- Dagda, Thor, that Christian one, and a couple more. We were literally ominous to the commoners, for if we were protected against the deeds of time, there'd have been something powerful protecting our backs. It turns out our backs were as bare as a rock against the ocean. Our struggles have been long there, scraping our minds and turning our lifes into meaningless fantasies.

What are we, Travellers?

Timeless beings. Plain humans cursed with the gift of inmortality, neverending lifespans that will apparently expand until the last sun sets, if you take it in a kinda poetic manner. My brother loves that- adorning everything with melodic words to make it more bearable. Truth is a lot less benevolent.

"Our DNA has the ability to turn on enzymes that Mother Nature disabled for a reason" He told us once- another one of my brothers. He is fond of science, and always questions everything. That makes him one of our most important assets, the researcher, the one who provides us, the rest, with answers. "Telomerase is the name of that demon. The one that keeps our cells from resenting, from destroying theirselves with time- that keeps us away from aging. We, for whatever reason, have been the unfortunate ones to awaken it, and thanks to that, we will be eternal."

Do people actually know the weight of that word?
Eternal.

We all have heard the commoner's pleas. I wish my life was endless. Inmortality, the fountain of youth- how many explorers have been lost running after it? We talk about it. We, Travellers, share stories about how people despair over something some of us would gladly give away and rest- They arrogantly assume eternity would be pleasant to them. We bask on the fact that the poor fools spit those words out of their fear to death.

Being eternal means being a secret. In these modern times, where greed and agony arise over most things, we must entrust our very own existance to a few. Commoners do not know about us anymore- there's no deities, no gods we can be messengers of. There's no walking around a town, no keeping close relationhips with those who will fade. We live isolated from most. We no longer have a single identity, which could arise suspicion. Secrets we are- few people acknowledge us being there anymore, the few reliable enough not to sell us to the public.

Being eternal means pain. Means struggle, means suffering. It means moving on with the world, when every other human is assigned to an era. It means losing people, watching them fade into nothing over time while standing there, not being able to do anything. It means questioning your own existance, questioning why you of all.
Being eternal means being terrified of the uncertainty of the future- of death itself as well. Don't blame us- commoners are used to the feeling of loss on such speeds that their mourn is reduced to a mere whisper to us. When one of us, meant to be eternal, dies, the question of 'why' lingers forever in our heads.

What are we? Travellers.

The world has limits for us. There's no barrier that holds us, no pressure, no rush. We defend our homes, we leave them and find new ones. The whole world is our playground, and eternity's given plenty of time for us to explore it. There's no place on Earth one of us hasn't seen.

But playgrounds must be eventually left- commoners are advancing, opening their eyes to the secrets of nature. They are getting bolder, defying their understanding capabilities- and we, Travellers, benefit from that. We have met many, and of many status in society, who are in debt with us, one way or another. This debt grants us access to the latest discoveries and secrets. Secrets the universe keeps graciously hidden, that are slowly discovered by us like some kid opening their first Christmas present.

We are travellers.

We have crossed many bridges already. From town to town, from country to country- from one continent to another. It is time to cross the greatest barrier we've ever been faced with- to explore other worlds.

But only one of us has been brave enough to jump into the void- her.

My treasure.

PERSONAL STORY TIEMZ. This might seem quite confusing, my peeples, but what this saddened scotsmen above is talking about is his kin's non-aging 'ability'. Most of my stable staff are affected by this mutation.

To put how it works in another words, we human beings age for lots of reasons, but one of the biggest ones is the damage our DNA takes when our cells multiply. We naturally host an enxyme called telomerase inside our DNA, whose task is to repair the DNA's damage after the multiplying, keeping it as new as the first day- however, it is deactivated. That's why our cells keep getting worse with time.

These guys, whose technical name would be telomeric humans have a birth mutation (or so it is believed) which activates telomerase back. Their cells will not damage, nor will they age. In other terms, they are immortal. This, however, gives an awful lot of difficulties to them- health, mental and even social ones. They have to remain hidden from the rest of humanity, for if they knew there are non-dying beings among them, I bet you they'd chop off their heads in order to know how in the heavens are they avoiding death.

Since they've been around for pretty long, governments have kinda been aware of their existance since middle ages, more or less. That's why some of them have really close ties to big administrations and bussinesses- and why they get special treatment AND some advanced devices, still hidden to the public.

So, there. I'm pretty finicky with my things, so I hope this sounds scientifically accurate enough!

Enners out.

Art, Scott, telomerase theory © Enharmonia

Description

What are we Travellers? I don't know.

We were always seen as godsents, when we are the exact opposite. Thrown in between people by assumed major forces, by those dwelling up above the heavens. I lost count of how many deities have been our bosses 'til date- Dagda, Thor, that Christian one, and a couple more. We were literally ominous to the commoners, for if we were protected against the deeds of time, there'd have been something powerful protecting our backs. It turns out our backs were as bare as a rock against the ocean. Our struggles have been long there, scraping our minds and turning our lifes into meaningless fantasies.

What are we, Travellers?

Timeless beings. Plain humans cursed with the gift of inmortality, neverending lifespans that will apparently expand until the last sun sets, if you take it in a kinda poetic manner. My brother loves that- adorning everything with melodic words to make it more bearable. Truth is a lot less benevolent.

"Our DNA has the ability to turn on enzymes that Mother Nature disabled for a reason" He told us once- another one of my brothers. He is fond of science, and always questions everything. That makes him one of our most important assets, the researcher, the one who provides us, the rest, with answers. "Telomerase is the name of that demon. The one that keeps our cells from resenting, from destroying theirselves with time- that keeps us away from aging. We, for whatever reason, have been the unfortunate ones to awaken it, and thanks to that, we will be eternal."

Do people actually know the weight of that word?
Eternal.

We all have heard the commoner's pleas. I wish my life was endless. Inmortality, the fountain of youth- how many explorers have been lost running after it? We talk about it. We, Travellers, share stories about how people despair over something some of us would gladly give away and rest- They arrogantly assume eternity would be pleasant to them. We bask on the fact that the poor fools spit those words out of their fear to death.

Being eternal means being a secret. In these modern times, where greed and agony arise over most things, we must entrust our very own existance to a few. Commoners do not know about us anymore- there's no deities, no gods we can be messengers of. There's no walking around a town, no keeping close relationhips with those who will fade. We live isolated from most. We no longer have a single identity, which could arise suspicion. Secrets we are- few people acknowledge us being there anymore, the few reliable enough not to sell us to the public.

Being eternal means pain. Means struggle, means suffering. It means moving on with the world, when every other human is assigned to an era. It means losing people, watching them fade into nothing over time while standing there, not being able to do anything. It means questioning your own existance, questioning why you of all.
Being eternal means being terrified of the uncertainty of the future- of death itself as well. Don't blame us- commoners are used to the feeling of loss on such speeds that their mourn is reduced to a mere whisper to us. When one of us, meant to be eternal, dies, the question of 'why' lingers forever in our heads.

What are we? Travellers.

The world has limits for us. There's no barrier that holds us, no pressure, no rush. We defend our homes, we leave them and find new ones. The whole world is our playground, and eternity's given plenty of time for us to explore it. There's no place on Earth one of us hasn't seen.

But playgrounds must be eventually left- commoners are advancing, opening their eyes to the secrets of nature. They are getting bolder, defying their understanding capabilities- and we, Travellers, benefit from that. We have met many, and of many status in society, who are in debt with us, one way or another. This debt grants us access to the latest discoveries and secrets. Secrets the universe keeps graciously hidden, that are slowly discovered by us like some kid opening their first Christmas present.

We are travellers.

We have crossed many bridges already. From town to town, from country to country- from one continent to another. It is time to cross the greatest barrier we've ever been faced with- to explore other worlds.

But only one of us has been brave enough to jump into the void- her.

My treasure.

PERSONAL STORY TIEMZ. This might seem quite confusing, my peeples, but what this saddened scotsmen above is talking about is his kin's non-aging 'ability'. Most of my stable staff are affected by this mutation.

To put how it works in another words, we human beings age for lots of reasons, but one of the biggest ones is the damage our DNA takes when our cells multiply. We naturally host an enxyme called telomerase inside our DNA, whose task is to repair the DNA's damage after the multiplying, keeping it as new as the first day- however, it is deactivated. That's why our cells keep getting worse with time.

These guys, whose technical name would be telomeric humans have a birth mutation (or so it is believed) which activates telomerase back. Their cells will not damage, nor will they age. In other terms, they are immortal. This, however, gives an awful lot of difficulties to them- health, mental and even social ones. They have to remain hidden from the rest of humanity, for if they knew there are non-dying beings among them, I bet you they'd chop off their heads in order to know how in the heavens are they avoiding death.

Since they've been around for pretty long, governments have kinda been aware of their existance since middle ages, more or less. That's why some of them have really close ties to big administrations and bussinesses- and why they get special treatment AND some advanced devices, still hidden to the public.

So, there. I'm pretty finicky with my things, so I hope this sounds scientifically accurate enough!

Enners out.

Art, Scott, telomerase theory © Enharmonia