Dreaming and Weaving

Energy Weaving
One last room to touch before my training begins.
The Yellow room shows a different face to each person who enters it.
What will I find there?

Shazira walks me to the room.

I feel dizzy as I approach the doorway, and get more nauseous with each step.
I turn to Shazira.
“The room is already making me sick.”
“What will it do to me when I get inside?”

“This is the room of weaving, Yagrin,” she says, “your own guild.”
“You need this room more than all of the others.”

She stares at me.
“It’s doing something to your eyes,” she says.
“The colors within them keep changing.”
“For a moment, I saw fire eyes like mine.”

She gets me some water, and I sit, hoping to regain my balance.
I ask her a question that’s been bothering me.

“Which is the most powerful guild, Shazira?”
“Energy weaving or flow?”

“Only those two?” she asks.
“There are art and healing guilds also.”
“Still, most of us think flow and weaving are stronger.”

“I can’t answer which of the two is most powerful.”
“The Weaving and Flow Guilds argue about it all the time, but it’s a question that has no answer.”
“The world is built on creation and change.”
“Weaving and Flow are twins.”
“One can’t exist without the other.”

“There’s far more to each guild than words can explain.”
“You need to experience the ways of each guild for yourself.”

“Finish with the rooms, so we can start your training.”
“I’ll wait for you outside.”

She squeezes my hand, and I walk into the room alone.

It takes a moment for my vision to clear.
Then, I see my daughter on the floor in the form of a Bizra.

The room smells musty, moldy, old and decaying.
It has a dirt floor, with dead plants and flowers.

The space is small, like a long walk-in closet.
Though outside, this room is as large as the others!

The Bizra body leaps into the air, faces me, and just hovers, without moving, rising or falling.
It stares at me, intense, serious, and judgmental, with no trace of Tzina’s playful nature.

My heart beats fast, and my mouth is dry like sand.
This isn’t Tzina.
I’ve just met a real Bizra.

I sense clearly that this is a female.
Her eyes are a piercing green and gold.
With movements that remind me of a cat.

I’ve seen Tzina in the Bizra form, but I feel like I’m seeing the Bizra shape for the first time.
The face has the emotional subtlety of a human or primate face, although it’s completely alien.
I feel an overwhelming sense of presence.
Her spirit belongs in a body a thousand times her size.

She listens to objects and life near and fear, and sees the whole world at once.
I’m only a spark, a pebble in her world.

Shazira told me that the Bizra communicate with images.
I never thought about what I would see and feel.
I guess I expected that a brief image would flash into my mind, not a powerful, waking dream.
A question haunts me.
Am I dreaming the Bizra or is she dreaming me?

I’m flying fast on the energy web, just above the ocean.
My face is touched by the mist of the waves a few feet below me.
My energy body pulses with the power that moves through me.

There’s water in all directions, with no sign of land.

Flying is the first binding taught in Energy Weaving.
We attach ourselves to the streams of the energy web, but the joining is temporary.
Real weaving is something stronger.

A great shadow darkens the waves below me, and I look up.
Groups of Bizra fill the sky above me as high as I can see.
Each circle of twelve Bizra flies together, one hundred feet above the next circle.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of groups.
Is there no end?

The presence of this flood of Bizra is like a sun.
It pulls at my attention, and commands me to approach.
I’m afraid, but I rise up and turn to face the lowest circle of Bizra.

“What do you want from me?” I shout.

They hover over me and seem to turn their attention exclusively on me.

I’m filled and surrounded with the smell of human flesh and hair burning.
Nausea takes me as I watch my skin and a layer of flesh melt away.
There is no body left beneath the flesh, no bones or organs, only a man-shaped matrix of energy points.

The Bizra continue to focus on me.
My shape remains man-like, but glows brighter and brighter.
I feel powerful and arrogant.
“Leave me alone,” I tell them.

I’m thrown into the ocean, and the world goes dark.
I wake up nauseous outside the Yellow Room, with Shazira standing over me.

She helps me stand.
“The room chooses who it wants and when it wants them,” she says.

“What’s really in there?” I ask.

“That doesn’t matter,” she answers.
“What matters is what you see when the room chooses you.”

“What did you see, Yagrin?”

“I saw hundreds or thousands of Bizra flying above the ocean, and I was with them.” I respond.
“I challenged them, and they sent me away, and the dream ended.”

Shazira shakes her head.
“You’re not finished yet!” she says, as she pushes me hard, back through the doorway.

Bound Together
I fly across the energy web, an energy body, a man-shaped matrix of energy, so fast that no measure of speed can touch me.
I’m surrounded by hundreds of Bizra energy bodies.
They’re not shaped like Bizra or anything else I’ve ever seen.
Large glowing eggs.

A few sparks of energy race toward me from several of the eggs, and force their way into my matrix.
I feel a strange sort of sick, like I’m going to explode.
Then, a few of my points of light gently separate from me.
These lights accelerate toward a few of the eggs, and disappear into them.

How does energy move in the world?
My inner eyes see waves of energy washing across the matrix of energy points, like water across the surface of a stone.
Something different happened here, between the Bizra and me.

What is unique in us, beyond all change and time?
Part of me is given and received.
Part of them is given and received.
Our energy is woven together.
I’m now bound to the Bizra, but for what purpose?

Thousands of Bizra form concentric circles, with me at the center.
I’m covered with their light, until it is more than I can bear.
I wake up this time in a bare Yellow Room.
It has windows, doors, and flowers, but it’s empty of furniture and other objects.
It’s completely silent, and just outside the doorway, Shazira still waits for me.

Traveling Home -- 1: WatchtowerPrevious StoryNext Story
  1. Prologue
  2. Island and Tower
  3. Healing Room
  4. Watchtower Floorplan
  5. Tzina’s Laugh
  6. Dream Room
  7. Storm and Stone
  8. Sweet Music
  9. Memories and Breakfast
  10. History and Change
  11. Dreaming and Weaving
  12. Hungry for Lightning

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