Ghosts of the Future

 
Eyes Open
I love the feeling of falling free.
The air that rushes by me as I fall.
And the world that comes up to meet me.
The six hundred feet to the ocean will vanish in seconds.

I told Keela that this body is strong.

Perhaps it is.
But I don’t believe that this small body will survive the fall.

Some might hide from the end.
But the ocean and sky are beautiful.

I want to see every moment.
So, I open my energy eyes.

Three of the great singing birds, the Kishla, form a circle one hundred feet below me.
My fall will pierce their circle.

The energy within the circle weaves itself thicker and thicker.
And pulls at me as I approach.

The Kishla song grows louder and louder.
And rises up to greet me.
Spinning around me.
Forming a circle that follows me down.

What meaning is hidden in the song?
The Kishla speak to each other through subtle changes within their songs.
But to us, it’s only music.

Beautiful, but beyond us.
Each intricate song is new.
And more complex than anything that a Jiku voice can touch.

The Kishla can hold several different tones at once.
The sound fills me, and closes out the world.

Until I reach the Kishla’s circle.
I’m surrounded with a thick fluid, which brings me to a stop.

I let my surprise go, and keep my eyes closed.
When the shock passes, I free my energy eyes again.

I see myself suspended in mid-air.
Fifty feet above the waves.

The Kishla’s circle looks to my energy eyes like a strange disk.
Their circle of flight like a great shining ring.

The space within the ring is thick.
Filled with a clear, elastic material that covers the ring like a drum.

The disk forms a window and gateway into a great well.
Another world, without end.

Bright energy calls to me from deep in the well, calming me.

I float, resting comfortably on the surface of the disc, at the top of the well.
And I listen again to the Kishla’s song, forgetting everything else.

Time forgets me.
How long have I been here?
It’s been minutes, but how many?

But then I begin to move.
I drift downward again, not in space, but within the energy well.

Will I go there and never return?
Not today.

What strength do I carry that will catch me?
Something within me moves deeper and deeper into the song.
And the song grows louder and louder around me.

This is my answer.
I sing.

Not with a voice of a child or adult.
I am not Jiku.

Several sounds shine out of me at once.
Like the Kishla.

I hear the sounds, but light and energy come with them.
My voices weave energy into the Kishla song, and the song changes.
The well disappears, and the birds scatter.

And I’m falling again.
Toward the sea.

But only for a moment, as hands grab me around the waist.

“Master Yagrin,” says Keela, “the air held you like a friend.”
“How did you tame gravity without your armband?”

“The Kishla’s song held me, Keela”

She gasps.
“There were no birds, master Yagrin.”
“Nothing but you and the open sky.”

“Hold on to me, master Yagrain,” she says.
“I have another armband for you in my pack.”
“But I need both my hands to get it.”

I grab her tightly around the waist, with a fraction of my strength.
My body looks like a child’s, but it is much stronger than it seems.

She lets go.
I hear a deep hum, and a few soft tones, as she activates the armband.

She puts the armband on me, and closes it.
Then she takes me up, away from the water.

“Try to fly,” she says.

I rise a few hundred feet in seconds.
Then, I open my eyes.

 
The Well of Worlds
Shazira looks at me from a distance.
Despite all that has happened, the bondsense is not gone.
I still feel what she feels.

She is proud of me that I destroyed the Krale.
And happy that I’m still alive.

Keela flies up to join me.
We speak as we fly to the cave of the old ones.

I describe how the birds wove the disk that caught me.
I speak of the well below the disk, and how I nearly left this world.
Then I tell her of my song that broke the connection to the well.

“Master,” she says, slowly and carefully, “I watched you fall after you destroyed the Krale.”
“And I saw you stop and hover in the air.”

“Let me tell you a story.”

“A thousand years ago, the Energy masters fought a great war that we call the destruction.”

“The survivors hid their skills from the young.”
“And most of the masters abandoned us.”

“Some were chosen by the Bizra to remain awake and hidden as old ones.”
“Others embraced a long sleep, as you have seen.”

“And the rest left this world, never to return.”

“Some of these travelled among the stars on rivers of energy.”
“But many of the ones who left, traveled through a gateway between dimensions.”
“That gateway is called the well of worlds.”

“Legend says that the well is guarded by three masters who took the shape of the Kishla.”

“Why did the old masters hide their knowledge, Keela?” I ask.
She sighs.

“The masters hoped that with time, we would become wiser than them in our use of power.”
“And there would be no more wars.”

“But the knowledge can not be hidden forever.”

“When the old masters were gone, visions spoke of the future.”
“Our times.”

“Enemies will come.”
“And we will need that knowledge again to protect ourselves.”

“The Bizra taught the Jiku some of the old knowledge.”
“But much is still hidden.

“Our hands are no more steady than the masters who brought war.”
“We are no more wise.”
“And the sleepers rest, unchanged.”

“And visions speak of masters who will return through the well of worlds.”

“The old ones still have their knowledge, Keela.”
“And they must have grown wiser over their long years.”
“They will save us.”

“They will help, master Yagrin, but their strength is not enough.”

“The visions tell of new wonders and new wars.

“Some who return through the well will shine pure and bright like the stars.”
“While others will shatter the world with their power.”

“My father is weary.”
“So he hopes for the awakening of the sleepers and the new kingdom that will follow.”

 
Uncertain
She stops and we hover together in the air.

She faces me, nose to nose.
Her warm breath upon my face.

“My father will be thrilled,” she says, “when I tell him what you’ve seen.”
“The well of worlds is another sign that the future rushes toward us.”

“My father aches for the coming glory of war.”
“I fear it.”

“I don’t know you well, but I take comfort in what I’ve seen of your heart.”

“You will fight, but not for the pleasure of it.”
“I hope that you will be strong enough to protect us against those who love war.”

I hear her words, and think of my love for the wild side of energy.
I think of my joy when storms surround me.

Is Keela right about me?
Will my power grow safely?
Or will the taste of my own power overshadow love and reason?

Will I bring peace or storms to the Jiku?