Council of Fear

 
Shipwrecks
The sky is clear of storms and lightning today, but I feel a strong breeze as I gaze at the sea from the railing of the watchtower.

It will be good to see Balshown again, when I visit the council.
I messaged him early this morning, and told him when the sisters and I will arrive at the council hall.
He said that he’ll meet us there.

I rise alone from the watchtower.
As I activate my gliding shield, the breeze on my face disappears, and I fly slowly to the council hall in Kirol.
Usually I love the feeling of flying at high speed, but today I’ve left time for a slow glide to Kirol.

Everything in my life has been moving so quickly.
I feel like slowing things down, at least for a few minutes.

There are many sailboats out today, enjoying the wind, their colorful sails greeting me, as I pass over the harbor.

An image suddenly bursts into my mind, of the harbor just before the energy wars.

It’s a larger harbor, full of great metal ships, covered with intricate, colorful designs.
These are flying ships that carry people and goods between the many lands.

The people of this world, the Jiku, loved the sea before they developed flight, and later spaceflight.
Wherever possible, they honored that old love by landing their flying craft in harbors.

Then my mind turns to another old image, from just after Botzan released the destruction upon the world.
The harbor is nearly empty of people.
Those who were spared walk among the rubble, unable to believe what their eyes see.

The wrecks of the flying ships fill the harbor.
Many of the broken ships are still visible from the air, although few masters are in the air.
The destruction has humbled everyone.

My mind returns to today.
Many of the broken ships were removed from the harbor, but not all of them.
Something pulls at me, and I fly down quickly toward the water.

I expand my shield to hold more air, and I enter the water.
I move down through the water until I reach the wreck that seems to call me.

The metal of this ship does not rust or decay in the sea.
Its rest here is peaceful, usually undisturbed by men.

I find my way to a sealed inner chamber.
There is no electrical power to open the watertight doors, so I flow the doors away.

I see a table with a doll upon it.
I feel the emotion that was given to this doll, so long ago.

Strong emotions leave an energy mark on objects that can be felt for years.
I can’t explain why this old emotion is strong enough to pull me out of the sky today, but I take the doll with me as I leave the wreck and rise out of the water.

I glide to the docks, and look at my prize.
The doll looks like a young girl.
The features are extraordinarily vivid, including the Bizra eyes!

There were never many children with Bizra eyes.
This doll was custom made for its owner.

I still have some time before the council meeting, so I find a quiet place, out of sight, and turn myself into a twin of the doll.
As I spread my healing body upon the original doll, the events that surrounded it pour into my awareness.

I move back through its history, until I see the little girl who left the doll behind.
I see as she is pulled from the room, and told sharply to be quiet.
And I watch as she and a few others glide away from the ship as it floats peacefully in the harbor.

I move farther back in its history and I see the doll given to the little girl by a woman with Bizra eyes.
Farther back, and I see the doll being shaped by a man and given to the little girl who became a woman.

I’ve seen enough.
I let go of the doll’s shape that I’ve borrowed, and retake my own.
I put the doll in a sort of knapsack that I carry, and walk toward council hall.

 
Broken Trust
When I arrive outside the council hall, Chiwan, Niyta, Makish, and three other sisters are already there.
Balshown arrives a few minutes later.

“Where have you been, Yagrin?” asks Balshown, upset.
“I haven’t seen or heard from you in days.”

“Do you remember the warning you received from within the closed city?”
“You know that it’s urgent that we find a way inside.”

I had almost forgotten about the warning.

“It was time to free the sisters, Balshown,” I answer.
“I told you that I needed to free them, before I could go to the city.”

“And did you need to attend a party, also, and dance for the king?” he asks, sarcastically.

I have no answer.
My actions seemed right at the time, but now they seems foolish.

“I’m sorry, Balshown, that I didn’t message you about the delay.”
“I have so much to tell you about what’s happened.”

“I don’t want to hear about the king’s party, Yagrin!”

“That’s not what I want to tell you about,” I answer, irritated.

He puts his hand up to silence me.
He doesn’t want to listen to me, while he’s still full of anger.

There’s an akward silence for a minute, while his anger softens.
“What’s this on your belt?” he asks in a slightly calmer voice, as he touches the crystal that surrounds the disk.
“I’ve never seen energy like this, except near the closed city.”

I hesitate.
“It’s the spinning sword,” I answer quietly.

He’s speechless for a few seconds.
“What’s happened to you, to make you so irresponsible?” he asks in a loud voice, his anger returning in full force.
“You carry this dishonorable thing in plain sight, you forget the danger that threatens us all, and you go dancing?!”

He tries to flow the belt, and is thrown back by a powerful energy blast.
“You attack me, now, Yagrin?” asks Balshown.

“I didn’t do it, Balshown,” I answer.

“I did it,” says Makish, standing between us, like a mother protecting her child.
“Leave him alone.”

“You know nothing about the last few days,” she says.
“Give him a chance to explain.”

Balshown shakes his head.
“Sometimes Yagrin, there are only moments to act upon a warning.”
“You’ve wasted days,” he says, and rushes into the council hall, ahead of us.

 
Words and Images
“I’m a fool,” I think to myself, but not for the reasons that Balshown thinks.
We need to know exactly what the Bizra meant when they told the old ones how to stop the next war.
No one can understand a Bizra message precisely, unless he connects to the image as the Bizra connect to each other’s dreams.

I have been Bizra, so I can do that.

“Wait for a few minutes,” I say to Niyta and the others with me, as I catch Niyta’s eyes.

I open my wintzal, and try to touch her mind.
I feel her wintzal blocking my way.

She feels the pressure of my contact.
She knows that it’s me, and opens herself to my mind.

“Niyta,” I say, “we need to know exactly what the Bizra wanted the sisters to do to stop the war.”
“How did you translate the message into words?”

“The image seemed simple enough, Yagrin,” she answers.
“We teach others about the energy war and the ways of healing and peace.”

“Nothing about the Bizra is simple, Niyta,” I say.

“Show me the image that the Bizra gave all of you, when you became old ones!”
“I have been Bizra.”
“I can translate it exactly into words.”

When I became Bizra, I learned to connect in a special way to the Bizra dreams.
This connection enables my mind to understand the image, and present it to me in words.

When I became a man again, this power to connect and interpret Bizra dreams stayed with me.

The process is simple enough, for me.
I just recall what it feels like to dream with the Bizra.
Then, I connect to the Bizra dream that floats in Niyta’s mind.
And my mind translates the image into words.

At first, the dream is quiet.
I see an image of the sisters.
They’re teaching about the ancient energy war, sharing images that they remember of those times.
And they demonstrate methods of healing.
Then, the sisters sit in circles with their students, and face the symbol for peace, shining in the center.

I hear words as though someone speaks them aloud, but it’s only my mind translating the Bizra dream into words.
The words seem to make no sense at all: “Together, you will become the peace and the destruction.”
I let my words reach Niyta’s mind.

“What does it mean, Yagrin?” she asks.

“I don’t know yet, Niyta, but the message is different than we thought it was.”

“This image reminds me so much, Niyta, of another ancient Bizra dream.”
“The Bizra warned Botzar of the destruction, and he asked them how to prevent it.”

“They showed him a similar image of teaching about war and peace.”
“I carry that dream image with me, but I never tried to translate it!”

I focus, and bring that Bizra dream into my mind, and connect with it in a Bizra way.
Niyta sees the dream, and hears the words that I hear.

The dream is similar, but the words I here are the same!

“The same words, Yagrin!” she says.

“THere’s one more dream that we need to translate,” I say.
“Show me the message that the Bizra gave you for me, about the family of the sword.”

Niyta once told me her translation of it, but I never asked to see it.
She told me:
“The family of the sword will control the sword, but they will bring peace and destruction.”
“Use the sword, only when there is no other hope.”

I connect to the image, and see a man, a woman, a boy and a girl forming a circle.
Their faces are indistinct, but the woman and girl have Bizra eyes.

There is a strange bundle of energy resting in all four hearts.
It looks to me like the energy that Botzar used to activate the sword.

Then, energy pours from all four hearts toward the center of the circle.
The blue platform takes shape, and the fire of the spinning sword rises straight up into space.
And there is a great explosion in space.

My words are slightly different than Niyta’s:
“Your family will become the sword, and the only hope.”
“Together, you will become the peace and the destruction.”

“I still don’t know what any of it means,” says Niyta, but your words for this dream are almost the same as the words of the other two dreams.”

“Yes,” I say.
“Somehow we must all travel a similar path to stop the war.”
“And this proves that the sword can be used to bring peace.”

“But why do the Bizra want all of us to follow a path of peace and destruction?” asks Niyta.”

“I don’t know,” I answer, “but I don’t think that destruction means what we think it means.”

I break the connection, and we both raise our wintzals.

 
Council of Fear
Chiwan and I stand before the council with Niyta, Makish, and three other sisters.

I introduce the council to the sisters, and describe the message of peace that the Bizra gave to the old ones.
“They gave almost the same message to Botzar,” I say, “as a way to stop the energy war, but he didn’t follow it.”

The council discusses it for a few minutes.

“It can’t do any harm,” says the council, “to let the sisters teach about the old war, and encourage people to solve their disagreements in peaceful ways.”
“But Yagrin, do you really believe that this will stop a war?!”

“I agree with you,” I answer, “that these methods don’t seem enough to stop a war.”
“But there’s something more, hidden in the Bizra message, though I’m still working to understand it.”

“For now, Yagrin,” says the council, “this is our decision.”
“Ten of the sisters are welcome in the guild lands.”
“They may join existing schools, or form their own schools.”

“Only ten?” asks Niyta.
“There are three hundred of us, and one hundred will remain in Tshuan.”
“We thought that two hundred could find places in the guild lands.”

“We will accept only ten,” answers the council.
“You are powerful, and unfamiliar with our ways.”
“More than ten may disrupt our ways, and frighten the people.”

“Prove that you fit in, and we will consider allowing more sisters to enter the guild lands.”

“The sisters are dedicated to peace,” says Chiwan.
“They’ll cause no trouble.”

“Your word is respected here, Master Chiwan,” they say.
“But we must move slowly and carefully on this.”

“Master Yagrin,” they say sharply, “we wish that you had asked us before freeing the old ones.”
“We might have found a better way to handle the situation.”

“It was time for them to leave their caverns, with or without me,” I answer.
“I brought them back as people, so we would be safe from the destructive power of old one eyes.”

“A sensible choice,” they say, “but we are the council, and the law in the guild lands.”

“An ordinary person has little need to consult with us.”
“But what you do affects us all.”
“It’s time that you involved us in your decisions.”

The council is afraid of the sisters, and still afraid of me.

But they’re right that I need the help and advice of others.
Only, I’m not convinced that they are the ones to give me advice.

At one time, they were ready to dissolve my marriage, and keep me out of the guilds.
The council clings too strongly to their familiar, comfortable world of power.
They have become too slow to see the future, as it races toward us.

“You’re right, of course,” I answer.
“I do need your advice.”
“I’m very concerned,” I continue, “about leaving so many of the sisters in the Tshuan lands.”

“I accept your decision to only allow ten sisters among us.”
“But I feel that the sisters might be in danger.”
“And I would rather have the sisters close to us, to side with us, and help protect our people when the war comes.”

“Who knows when the war will come, Yagrin?” asks Balshown.
“Will it be here today or tomorrow?”

“I don’t know when it will come, Balshown,” I answer.

“You don’t know,” he says, raising his voice, “if the war will ever come!”
“Maybe all of the sisters in Tshuan can teach the army there to love peace!”

Some of the council members laugh.
No one believes that the people of Tshuan will ever trade their armies and weapons for a peaceful life.

The council speaks among themselves for a few minutes before answering me.

“Your concern is justified, Yagrin,” says the council.
“We’d like you to visit Tshuan weekly to speak to the sisters.”
“Let them be your eyes and ears.”
“Ask them if they see signs that the Tshuans are preparing to fight against us.”
“Find out if the Tshuans are asking the sisters to join them in a war against the guilds.”

“If there are further signs of war, or the sisters appear to be in danger, we will reconsider our decision.”
“But until then our decision stands, Yagrin.”

“Thank you council,” I reply.
“There is one more task that the Bizra gave to the sisters.”
“They suggested that the masters of our time be given wintzals to protect themselves against mental attack.”

“The skills of mental attack have been lost, Yagrin,” says Lina, head of the weavers guild.
“Why do our masters need the wintzals?”
“And besides, the last mind weaver who could build them, died long ago.”

The council murmurs in agreement.

“Council,” I say, “I’m concerned that the Tshuans may have technology that can affect our minds.”
“The wintzal would protect us against that.”

“And while I trust the sisters, all of them have the knowledge of mental warfare.”
“Their knowledge may somehow spread.”

“And finally, there are other masters asleep in the caverns of Tshuan.”
“If they awake, who knows what skills they have!”

“A good argument, Yagrin,” says Balshown calmly, “but it will be hard to convince the masters to open their minds to a mindweaver.”
“And you still need to find us a mindweaver.”

“There is one mindweaver among the sisters,” I say, and I introduce them to Makish.

The council speaks together for a few minutes.

“Makish, we thank you for your offer, but the guild members will be too afraid to accept an ancient stranger into their minds.”

“I have found two of your guild masters,” responds Makish, “with natural talent for mindweaving, and I’ve trained them.”
“Perhaps the guilds will accept them more readily.”

“Who?” asks Lina.

“Yagrin, and his bondmate, Shazira.”

“The masters will be afraid of opening their minds, Yagrin,” Lina says to me.

After a moment, she continues:
“But the fear of attack may convince many to accept your help.”

“The council will publicize the urgency of this danger, and your solution.”
“We’ll create a schedule over the next two weeks, so you can complete the wintzals over the next few months.”

“Council,” says Makish, “when you plan this, be aware that a mindweaver can only build about five or six wintzals in a day.”
“The process is a strain on the mindweaver, and more than six can be dangerous.”

“We understand,” says the council.
“Thank you sisters, Yagrin, and Chiwan.”

 
Old Friends
We say goodbye to the council, and leave the council hall.
“Yagrin,” says Niyta, “the council wants you to use the sisters to spy on Tshuan.”

“You’re right Niyta,” I say, “but I don’t trust the Tshuans either.”
“And I want to make sure that the sisters are safe.”

“Will you really continue to consult with the council, Yagrin,” asks Chiwan, “before you make major decisions?”

I look around at those I trust, and then I speak freely.
“I will consult with them when I can, but they often move too slowly to defend us against danger.”

“I agree,” says someone behind us.
I turn around, and see that Balshown has followed us out.

“So you’re a mindweaver now, Yagrin?” he asks.

I nod.

“I see,” he says grudgingly, “that you have been busy the last few days.”
“Next time, message me if I’m expecting you, and you’ll be delayed.”

“You’re right, Balshown,” I say.
“I’m sorry.”

I introduce Balshown to the sisters.
He’s met Chiwan before.

“Now that I’m calm, Yagrin,” he says, “tell me about the sword.”

I explain how I found it, and the legends about the family of the sword.
I tell him about the messages from the Bizra to Botzar, the sisters, and finally to me, and how they all speak of peace and desruction.

“How can the sword be used for peace, Yagrin?” he asks.
“And what sort of destruction would be acceptable to the Bizra.”

“The end of war,” says Makish.

I look at her.
“Where did you get that idea, Makish?”

“When we think of destruction,” she says, “we think of violence.”
“But we know that violence is unacceptable to the Bizra.”

“The destruction they refer to,” she says, “must return balance to the world, and use no violence.”

“How is that possible?” asks Balshown.

“I don’t know,” answers Makish.
“But somehow, Yagrin needs to discover what it means.”

I nod.

“Balshown and Makish,” I say, “come for dinner tonight.”

Balshown frowns.

“Please,” I say.
“Come, Balshown.”
“We’ll make plans to travel the closed city.”

The two of them agree.
Then, before I leave for the watchtower, I open my pack, and take out the doll.

“I have a present for you, Makish.”

“You’re giving her a doll?” asks Niyta.

“Where did you get that?” asks Makish, incredulous.

“I found it in an airship,” I answer, “that lies underwater, in the harbor at Kirol.”
“I looked at its past, and I saw that it once belonged to you.”

She nods, handling the doll, as though it’s a dream.

“I saw the man who made it for you,” I continue.
“Your father?”

“Yes,” she answers, quietly.
She shakes off the memory with a sad smile.

“I gave the doll to my niece.”
“She must have left it behind when she went into hiding, around the time of the war.”

She gives it back to me.
“I thought you would want it,” I say.

She shakes her head no.
“It’s been a long time since I was a child,” she says.
“Give it to Tzina.”
“When she has a daughter, she can give it to her.”

“I’ll hold it for you, Makish,” I say putting it away.
“You’re young again, and this is a different world.”

“You may have your own daughter, someday, to give it to.”