Power of Imagination
by Admiral Jota
Do you believe in the power of Imagination? A real, tangible power, able to directly alter the physical world, housed within the Imagination of mankind?
Perhaps that's why it's faded so.
You see, Imagination was once a far more powerful force than it is now. There was a time when, if you imagined that something might exist, it could.
There was an age when gorgons and golems, cats and minotaurs, magic and pantheons were all physically manifest. Homer convinced the world that there was a city called Troy, and described it so that it could be seen, heard, and felt — and so it was. Heroes imagined themselves fighting great battles against terrible foes, and so it happened, but only those would could conceive of their victory clearly could ever see it through.
Time passed, and old stories were remembered less, and new stories arose to compete with them. Stories become plentiful and varied, and so they could not all be true at once. But the strongest of those tales still continued, because those were the ones imagined by the most people. And so there were still a few young men who fought dragons with magic swords, maidens who found unicorns in the forest, young children who fled from evil witches with their sinister cats, and elders who followed faerie circles into the next world.
But most of those things had to be sought: there were no unicorns in the home or dragons in your back yard. And so they became harder and harder to find, until they didn't exist at all. And the power of Imagination faded more. Today it is so weakened that it cannot create new things, or so I am told. Even to maintain old fantasies is difficult -- who can truly Imagine a unicorn? Not enough of us to keep one alive, and now that the last one is gone, we can never again form another. More recently, the witches passed away, not more than a century or two ago. Some have tried to revive them, to become them, but the power to revive that which is lost is beyond us.
Some things -- very, very few things -- have never been lost. They are those things that are constantly with us; we are reminded at all times of what they are, what they are like. So long as we have them here as concrete forms, perhaps our weakened Imagination will still be able to keep them from fading as well. Or some day, it may diminish to the point where even they leave us.
But perhaps, for some time longer, this world will still have lightning, and white roses, and cats.