Inside & Out Ch 1: Past Of The Zeyvari

(Kael)  I remember when I was young. My father would sit me down before bedtime, his eyes gleaming with the kind of wisdom that only comes f

(Kael) 

I remember when I was young. My father would sit me down before bedtime, his eyes gleaming with the kind of wisdom that only comes from years of hardship and survival. He'd tell me stories—stories of our ancestors, of their long and weary journey across the stars, of the countless centuries they spent searching for a place to call home.

"Why did it take so long, you ask?" he'd say, just as I was about to ask the very same question. He always knew.

Because we weren't just searching. We were running.

The Xel'Tharim—our greatest enemy—wouldn't let us go.

They were relentless, cruel, and above all, patient. The war between our people and theirs lasted for centuries, long enough that no one truly remembers how it began. Some say it was over resources. Others believe it was a simple misunderstanding that spiraled into something far worse. Whatever the reason, the result was the same—our homeworld, Veylannis, was left in ruins, a lifeless husk floating in the void.

My people, the Zeyvari, had had enough.

We were a people of intellect, of creation, of advancement. We were not conquerors, nor did we take pleasure in destruction. After centuries of war, we made the decision to leave. We gathered our fleets, packed up what little we had left, and abandoned the battleground that had once been our world.

It was wishful thinking that the Xel'Tharim would do the same.

They didn't.

They chased us, carrying their centuries of hate like a torch, burning everything in their path just to find us. They saw our departure as cowardice, as unfinished business. To them, the war could never end until we were wiped from existence. So we ran. We ran for so long that running became the only way we knew how to live.

For generations, we drifted through the void, jumping from system to system, always on the move, always looking over our shoulders. Entire lifetimes passed within the confines of our great ships, and still, we found nothing. Some among us began to lose hope, whispering that perhaps we were destined to be nomads forever.

Until we found Elythara (pretty much earth).

At first, we thought we had finally found it—the paradise we had dreamed of for so long. A world untouched by war, teeming with life, lush with beauty. Our sensors confirmed it—Elythara was the perfect planet. It had everything we needed.

Except for one, tiny little problem.

The planet was already occupied.

And not by just any species. Oh no. That would have been too easy.

The beings that called Elythara home—the Veydrin—were massive. I mean, truly, ridiculously, unfathomably massive.

Their smallest was large enough to put our largest starship to shame. Their tallest? Miles upon miles high, towering into the clouds like living, breathing mountains. And the worst part?

They looked almost exactly like us.

Well, if you took one of us and put it in a growth chamber for a thousand years, that is. Same basic shape, same general features—just... huge.

We spent years studying them, searching the planet for any safe place where we could settle. But no matter where we looked, there was nowhere that could hold us indefinitely. Every continent, every island, every crevice was theirs.

No one knows exactly who suggested it first, but at some point, someone had the absolutely insane idea:

"If we can't live on the planet... why not live in them?"

Now, before you say anything—yes. I know how that sounds. Believe me, we all thought the same thing at first. What kind of lunatic suggests moving an entire civilization into the bodies of giant aliens?

But the more we thought about it, the more it started to make sense.

The Veydrin were enormous, yes, but their physiology was remarkably compatible with our own. Their bodies were strong, resilient, and—most importantly—spacious. Their veins alone could house entire cities. Their lungs could hold entire ecosystems. It was the perfect hiding spot. If we could integrate ourselves into their biology, we could not only survive—we could thrive.

At first, the work was slow. Our scientists and engineers had to make countless adjustments, designing structures that could exist within the Veydrin without harming them. We modified their physiology ever so slightly, enhancing their immune systems, strengthening their bodies, ensuring that our presence would be symbiotic rather than parasitic.

And eventually... it worked.

Our people moved into the Veydrin—some within their bones, others within their organs, their muscles, their very cells. We became part of them, hidden so deeply within their bodies that even the Xel'Tharim, with all their advanced tracking technology, would never think to look there.

Of course, it didn't take long before the Veydrin themselves noticed something was going on.

It's kind of hard not to notice when your body suddenly starts feeling different. Their metabolisms became more efficient. Their wounds healed faster. Their senses sharpened. They weren't stupid—they knew something had changed.

Eventually, we decided to stop hiding and reveal ourselves to them properly.

It was a delicate process. After all, how do you explain to a species that you've secretly moved billions of your people inside their bodies without causing a panic?

Our leaders stood before them, speaking not as invaders, but as allies. We came in peace, we told them. This was a mutually beneficial relationship. We would take care of them, improve their health, their longevity. In return, all we asked was for a place to exist, a home where we could finally be safe.

At first, they were hesitant. Who wouldn't be? I mean, imagine waking up one day and finding out that an entire microscopic civilization had been living inside of you. It took time, but slowly, trust was built. They saw that we meant no harm. That we could help them just as much as they helped us.

And so, a new society was born.

It's been a hundred years since then. A hundred years of peace, of prosperity, of coexistence.

This is who we are now. This is our home.

My name is Kael Veyrix, and I am a Zeyvari.