A Midwinter Day's Dream

Alaster Nishant · 01-05-2012, 06:16 PM

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This is a continuation of the post here(<==click) :3 PART 1

Alaster’s POV

I groaned in pain, a soreness stretching from my neck to back aching before passing—a minor stiffness of the joints. The custom scents of the tree hut were present—the musk of the piled blankets, the tanned leather of the sleeping bed that Songan had made—and I could see the forms of my siblings present in the dim light of dawn. Mother was no doubt already out and about; she had recently changed her previous late-morning-starts to early ones, for reasons that I can only guess at. I suppose it is Ahiga’s coming back, or perhaps she is too busy to stay up late to watch the stars as often as before. I think it is the former—because she wants to make sure that he is still there and not a dream. I can only imagine that she is angry with me as well for having gone along with Ahiga’s hoax. But I had been young then—I had not understood that it would cause mother such sadness. But now I knew, and I felt guilty. And yet, I could not come to hate Ahiga for it, or even dislike him for his faults. I loved my twin, and I was completely certain that nothing could ever change that.

When I went to stand, I found that the floor…was mysteriously much farther than usual. In fact, when I came to complete sense of my body, I no longer had bipedal legs or even proper arms—they were paws, and not wolf’s paws. They were smaller, suppler, and with tinier claws. A tail twitched behind me, but it was thin and lithe. Lifting a paw up to feel my head, my ears were also pointier and on more of an angle. I panicked, jumping down and landing with a barely audible ‘thud’, and ran over to the wash basin that mother kept stocked with water. Looking into the shallow pool, I was shocked and terrified to see that my face was not my own—it was a cat’s staring back at me. When I went to call out to Ahiga or Aleu, all that came out was a meow—not even a low-speech word, but a simple sound. Having spent a lot of time around animals, I could speak the low-speech of a few. But I couldn’t even muster those few words with my new maw—only an empty noise. Aleu stirred in her sleep, and in my panic I ran over to her and jumped on her back, prodding at it until she turned over to continue her sleep. I was so miniscule and tiny now; I must’ve weighed no less than a few rocks in their palms.

The whistle of feathers on wind caught my attention, bringing my now wide and slitted eyes to the window. There perched Nootau—mother’s spirit guide—watching me with intent eyes. I had often known Nootau to be silent and stoic in nature, and he had only spoken once or twice around us to remind us to behave ourselves. As taught by mother, spirit guides were on a higher plane than us, so (at least I and Aleu) obeyed that teaching. My ears went back in fear that Nootau might mistake me as a strange creature in their home and chase me out, but his inkwell black eyes remained trained on me even as I slowly backed up into the darkness.

And then suddenly he sprang.

I yowled in terror as the small—well, to me he was pretty large now—barn owl spirit swooped to me, claws outstretched for my neck. I barely registered Ahiga and Aleu bolting upright at the surprise from the sound as I scrambled to get out of Nootau’s way, but he was quick and agile, and quickly caught me by the scruff of my neck. Ahiga and Aleu were looking frantically around as things fell from the short chase and then at us as Nootau carried me away, all the while I yowled for help, thrashing in his claws.

Oh, hush, he calmly said. My claws aren’t even piercing your skin. The sudden speech from the spirit guide quieted me for a moment, and I realized that he was right; his claws didn’t even hurt as he flew us across the dawn air towards the forest, towards the edge of the trees where it would lead to the cliffs of Beast’s Grin Peninsula. I looked up at him and meowed, but he only tilted his head before returning his attention to the skies. I see you cannot speak, and even I cannot understand you. What mischief have you gotten into now? When we were a sufficient way away from the village, Nootau lighted us down on a broad branch, that which I clung to with my tiny paws in fear for falling. The spirit guide’s abrupt manner of transportation was unnerving enough—it was beginning to become overkill.

I looked at Nootau in fear. If even a spirit guide couldn’t understand me, I was doomed. How had I even become this way!?

Have you touched something you were not supposed to? I meowed again, but, realizing it was useless, shook my head in denial. Drank anything from the Kunikoti’s? Gone to the cursed sites? Twice more, I shook my head. It was odd that Nootau was speaking so much, and I could feel my terror growing as the reality of my transformation took hold. I was a cat for moon’s sake! Come now, something must’ve— And suddenly, Nootau cocked his head to the side, as if something had caught his attention elsewhere. For a few long moments it was silent, and then Nootau seemed to come back to the present time. You have been given a task, he said slowly, beak clicking softly. A task? You will be guided by the Rain, the Sun, the Trees, and the Wind to reach your goal. It seems I am to take you to your start, though. What was all of this? What had Nootau heard just now!? I wanted to ask so badly—at the very least to retaliate that I could’ve done any task in my normal shape!—but I could only shake my head and look appealingly to Nootau. But he lifted off and grabbed me from the scruff again, and we were flying further and further away.

What was this task that he spoke of? The Rain, the Sun, and Trees, and the Wind? And most importantly, why? Who transformed me and for what purpose!? But I could do naught but allow Nootau to carry me to spirits-knew-where (literally) and be compliant. Thrashing around would only land me on the ground—and in a bloody heap—and I could ask nothing. Instead I watched as the landscape raced beneath us and the AniWayan lands faded away in the forest that encircled the plains of my home. Just how long would this task take? Would it be hours? Days? Years? I couldn’t be away that long! Mother would be heartbroken, and Ahiga had just gotten back… And poor Aleu. Ahiga and I, as twins, always spent the majority of our time together, and sometimes we left her out. She was often so alone… How alone would she be now, without me to temper Ahiga’s irritability? I almost felt a tear come to my eye before Nootau suddenly dropped in altitude, diving straight down along the cliff face, the wind blustering against us, tinged with salt from the sea. I yowled from sheer surprise, but the updrafts created by the waved crashing on the rocks below allowed Nootau to lift upwards just in time, the sea-spray tickling my fur. He glided, then, to a large rock worn smooth underneath from the water, where I was dropped as gently as possible. I shook myself out, uncomfortable with the water sticking to me, and watched Nootau intently. He gave me a look that said ‘nothing to be done but do’—an old saying meaning that doing anything but what is given is useless—and we waited.

In my depression and boredom I laid down to watch the water (from a safe distance of the waves). It was a pretty blue this morning—darker than Ayasha’s eyes, but maybe only a shade more than Aleu’s?—and it sounded like an echoing rover, flowing back and forth, back and forth. I barely noticed, however, when a certain spot on the water ceased the motion; it was a stillness that moved steadily towards us. I only noticed it when it began to emerge, taking form. It had arms and a torso, but its head was nothing more than a mask with intricate carvings of swirls. The being was all shades of blue, sometimes the color shifting like light through water, and elaborately decorated in gold and silver jewelry. It had silver-blue hair knotted in complex patters, and from the eye-slits in the mask I could see a golden light, like topaz gems. A crown of mother-of-pearl and ivory floated above its head, and a mist-thin sash drifted like the waves around its shoulders and under its arms. Overall, it was a very imposing creature. But something in it struck a chord in my memory, although I could not place it.

I am the Rain, it said, its voice a mixture of female and male tones at once, also sounding as if it were speaking from one end of a long, metallic tube. You, Alaster, have been given a task to find fate. Are you comfortable in your body as you are now? I shook my head, eyes wide in awe of this creature before us, amazed that Nootau could remain so calm (well, I really shouldn’t be; he himself is a spirit). Then fate is not domestic. Slowly he reached an open palm down to me, the fingers immense in comparison to my body. Come with me, and we will go to the Sun. I looked nervously from the hand to Nootau, unsure of whether to go or not. I just wanted to be back home with Ahiga and Aleu and mother—where I was sure of everything. But I couldn’t—not as I was then. The barn owl nodded his head once in affirmation, and I gulped to swallow any fear I might’ve had boiling up. With a brave face I stepped on the Rain’s hand and felt as he lowered us into the surf. I caught one last glimpse of Nootau as he flew off, leaving me to the mercy of this spirit.

I expected to float when I felt the water, but I kept sinking. Terror overwhelmed me again as I thought that I would suffocate, but instead a minor pain lanced through my body, contorting it. My eyes saw the Rain watch, unperturbed, as the last vestiges of air escaped my mouth and floated to the surface. Yet…I could still breathe. Opening my eyes, I was then…in the form of a turtle. Surprised, I looked around my new environment, my new flippers instinctively rotating me about. The shell on my back was not heavy, and I found that I actually felt quite light beneath the water. Everything was so…beautiful; even in the darkness of this cove. I looked to the Rain and noticed his bottom half, which was that of a fish; like his body, the blue colors shifted, but there were obviously scales and a large flipper, a gold and silver chain floating serenely about the appendage. Beneath the surface, the Rain looked more opalescent than anything, save for his mask.

This is the world of the sea, he said as he began to swim, leaving me to follow. I found that I could swim quite quickly, and I caught up to his side to listen. It is calm and peaceful below, even when there is a storm. Those of the water nurture those of the land, and we hold secrets in our depths. It was then that I realized what the Rain reminded me of: It was the Mana, the spirit of rain and the clandestine. Mother had often told us stories of those that she called ‘the named spirits’, although their origins were very murky. She had said that a ‘named spirit’ was simply a term giving purpose to a spirit, even if that was not their true name. The Mana was a term given to those spirits who performed miracles of rain and who represented secrets, and yet…before me was the perfect representation of how Mother had described the Mana, down to the last detail. She said that she had never seen a Mana—rather, she claimed Wayfarers, Mystics, and Whisperers—but she had heard of them from the stories passed down to her from Shamans and elders past.

The creatures of the sea seemed to appear, then, going about their daily business in this blue world. Once or twice I had to surface for air, but I did not notice the braying clouds gathering on the horizon. There were fish aplenty—some silver, others differing in more exotic colors—and a few corals dotting rock outcroppings. A dolphin pod swam past, and in the distance we even spotted a whale, whose hum reached us even from our trek. Mostly the Rain stayed quiet as we swam, but I would’ve somehow preferred if he spoke more. The silence in conversation was not comforting, and I honestly wanted to be on dry land soon. It was beautiful down there, but…I wanted to be home…

The Rain looked sidelong at me as we neared what appeared to be a beach, contemplating something. A soft sigh escaped from the mask. You did not find those of the water to your liking? I looked to him then, wanting to deny that fact, but found that I still could not speak. I had loved the beauty of the world I was showed, but in the form I was in…it was not right. Then fate is not secret or calm. The water broke above our heads, and we two were on a sandy beach. Far across the way behind us I could see the cliffs of AniWaya and Beast’s Grin Peninsula—nothing more than outlines in the gray shadows of the storm clouds above. I could feel a drizzle splashing on me from behind, but my front half could feel no rain; it was only raining from the shoreline on back, while the beach and forward was bright and sunny. A luminescent light approached from between two rocks, and I watched as yet another being emerged.

This one was bright as fire and seemed to move the same; its form would morph and flicker like the wicks of a flame, and its eyes burned ruby-red. It, too, wore a mask, but it was carved with sharper curves instead of gentle swirls, and each line was outlined in burnished bullion. Silks of scarlet wrapped loosely around its frame, although feathers sprouted along its arms with the sheen of gold and the color of crimson. A long tail trailed behind it, covered and tipped in more feathers, and gold jewelry also decorated it like stars. Beneath the hem of the silk skirts were clawed feet, like an eagle’s, and the earth seemed to burn where it stepped.

I am the Sun, it said with a voice like the Rain’s. I represent all that is strong and aggressive; the cycle of destruction and rebirth. If the Rain was a Mana, than this was a Herald. Mother described them as beings of light that prophesized an event of large proportions. She believed that when she was being warned of such things, the moon sometimes sent a Herald to convey its message through the Great Fire. As it approached, its heat warmed my shell until the water evaporated completely, and it was as if the shell's very fiber was peeling off to dissipate to the wind as I once more underwent a transformation. Now I grew feathers--brown ones, with a white head--and a beak enlarged from my previous one. My flippers turned to wings and the back pair to talons as tail feathers sprouted, and thus I found myself as an eagle in the surf. Fly with me, the Sun said as it began to hover, waiting for me to follow suit. But I was clumsy in discovering how the angle my wings, and more than once looked like a struggling chicken. Taking pity, I suppose, the Sun sent a thermal to lift me from the ground behind me, and the draft carried me up. In stark fright I stiffened my wings, letting the thermal carry me to where I could at least struggle at the Sun's pace.

Higher and higher we went, but I felt like any moment I could fall. The warmth from the Sun made me feel as if any moment I would be burned, too, and the awkward flapping of my wings was troublesome. The Sun saw this, and a realization came to it before it even explained a thing. You are uncomfortable in this form, it stated, flying beneath me to give me another thermal to carry on. I could not deny it, and so shook my head. I could not tell if it was displeased or disappointed, but it guided me to the ground in a slightly shortened trip. I grasped desperately for the first branch that came our way, my wings hurting from their misuse on my part. I felt ashamed, as a blush crept to my cheeks, that I could not endure what the Sun had brought me there for, but no emotion other than perhaps sympathy entered its dual tone. Fate is not fierce or aggressive, it said as it hovered in a break in the trees. A pause went by as it seemingly considered saying something else. Do not feel ashamed that fate was not this way; we cannot choose our fates--only choose the paths to them. Here you will wait for the Trees to greet you. And that was that. The Herald took off and left me there, still ashamed and frightened from the experience.

I wanted to know just how long this would take, and what that last comment--the one on 'choosing fate'--had meant...

Shepherd walks. Shepherd talks. Shepherd thinks.

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