“Do you understand who you are, son of Ric’ua?”
Lam knew the answer she was searching for, though he did not feel it completely in his body. “The cloud said the same as you, Shen-Ma,” he said. “I am the Seed.”
“The Seed,” she repeated, nodding.
“He needs to be told,” Ch’kara spoke next to him. He was very aware she was still holding his hand as he turned back to the old woman for her response.
The Shen-Ma sighed and lifted her eyes to the stars once again. “Long ago, a wise Ancient named L’karta performed a very special ceremony. This ceremony had never been carried through before. He must have received it directly from the stars, for it released his spirit from his body, and he rose high above this land. No other had ever done this before. From this perspective, he saw the land was actually curved and not flat at all. He saw there were other rocks— countless rocks— all seemingly suspended in between the endless stars. He looked down and saw the souls of the people below, shining as many different colors, a living tapestry, each connected to the next. There were no gaps in this Quilt of Life.
“He was met by three spirits who claimed to be of the stars. They encircled L’karta’s soul, and lifted him higher and higher, taking him to their own curved land under a sun that was not our own. Here, they imparted to him all manner of knowledge and wisdom in a matter of mere hours. It was as if they simply opened his mind and poured their words inside! He remembered no speech or audible sounds at all.
“He was returned, and was placed beside his bonfire, as if he’d never left. Naturally, many believed he had only dreamed the experience and it had not truly happened.” The Shen-Ma chuckled. “It is said he responded, ‘Of course I dreamed it— how else has any of my work been accomplished?’” She cackled fully out loud now, and Lam knew her own experience made the Ancient’s reply so hilarious to her. He cracked a smile himself, and imagined Ch’kara was doing the same, though he did not want to risk a glance to find out.
“From that journey, he brought back a message. He foretold that one directly from the stars would come into our midst. This one would once again unite all the people into the Quilt of Life he beheld from above, arriving when the need was greatest, when the violence was its most pointless and most heartless. It was said this one would come out of this heartless land, and plant the seed that would change the nations. A Seed would be planted, and this seed would never be crushed for ages to come.” She smiled a secretive smile to herself as she adjusted the logs of her bonfire with the tip of her walking stick.
“L’karta was my direct ancestor. He was a grandfather who is with me, even this day, though he has refused to impart to me any further insight from the other worlds,” she sighed.
“The spirits love games, you know,” she said, “Especially games with words. I thought I understood exactly what the prophecy said, what it meant. Of all the wisdom passed to me, I closed my mind to the most important.” The old woman laughed again. “I decided I had learned all I could on that prophecy, and had bound any new power from entering it!
“But now I see.” She turned and smiled directly at Lam, before meeting Ch’kara’s eyes. It was apparent the two women had already had conversation on what the old one was about to say.
“I had thought the one from the stars would be born to the violent tribes, such as the Gildoks, or the Furds further north. I believed they would change the violent ones from within, then emerge to unite us all. I see now I was only partly right in this. You came from our own people, went to the Gildoks, and emerged, changed yourself.
“In a way, you were born in the Gildok land. As Pael, Ric’ua’s only son, and her only family, after your father’s encounter with the same Gildoks so many seasons ago, you ventured too far into the forest yourself. You slipped from their grasp only long enough to climb a tree. Yet this did not stop them, for that fierce tribe is not known to stop for anything once their minds are set to a thing. They began to tear you down from below, plucking the roots right from you.
“They tore your soul right from your body.
“So overtaken by the energy of the Gildok people’s fear and anger, Pael chose to release this body of his own accord, rather than let the cruel ones take it. This opened the path for Lam to enter, taking the body as its own, for purposes of its own— the purpose of Planting!
“Lam was born from the violence and harmful desires of others.”
Lam was speechless. The Shen-Ma sat silently.
“How,” he finally began, “How is this possible?”
“How is it possible for the clouds to talk?” the old one replied.
He thought on this, feeling at once a sinking feeling and a thrill of excitement. “From the stars…” he whispered. “I am from the stars.”
“Do you remember?”
He closed his eyes, searching within himself. He found no specific memories, but suddenly touched the sense of something before once again. Slowly, he began to nod his head. “I feel it is true…”
“Then perhaps you should look above you.”
Lam opened his eyes and looked up to find the cloud had come over them, and had descended so close he could reach up and touch it. He gasped and looked quickly to Ch’kara. Her head had slumped to her chest, yet rose and fell slightly with her breathing, fast asleep. He turned to the Shen-Ma and saw she merely sat firmly and silently, watching his reactions, revealing no hint of her own reactions.
The wind began to swirl around them, stirring the dust and leaves. The fire writhed as if in agony. A soft rumble rapidly grew into a loud roar as a continuous thunder broke all around them. Lam felt the vibration of it to his very bones. He felt no fear, yet sat unmoving, looking into the cloud.
Sparks of light began to flash randomly throughout the cloud as the wind whipped more and more fiercely. The sparks grew bigger and lit longer, until they were full streaks of lightning shooting from one end of the cloud to the other, side to side, top to bottom. The cloud rolled and boiled, turned inward on itself, and rushed back out.
Suddenly a single bolt of lightning shot from the direct center of the cloud and struck Lam in the direct center of his forehead.
• TEN •
He was not alone.
He could not see the others around him. He had no eyes with which to see them, but he knew they were there. He didn’t know from a memory— he felt them.
They were in a circle, yet they were not standing. They had no bodies with which to stand. Each of the others were merely spaces of presence around him. He quickly realized he, too, was simply an energetic presence, and a part of the circle.
This place was a room, but not a room. He could sense no walls or boundaries to it, as if it continued infinitely in every direction. At the same time, it felt like a confined space, a certain place. He felt another aspect present here as well, a sort of tingling electric charge filling the space, as if anything that was said or done in this place would instantly spark into life.
He had drifted off. Had he been sleeping? He thought he had. He’d been dreaming, too. It had been a very nice dream, something about a forest and a village. A warm feeling swept through him at the memory. He felt like smiling, but he had no face here. That had only been in the dream, hadn’t it?
Do you remember now? one of the others asked silently. Have you found it?
I fell asleep.
We do not sleep here.
But I did. I even had a dream. I had a body, and a mother, and—
He does not remember.
He must be conscious of both sides in order to intentionally activate the cycle!
He should not have gone.
It was his choice. No other took his free will.
Go? I was… not here?
Your presence was removed, Lam.
You were no longer among us.
I… Images of tree and cloud and fire flashed through his awareness. Do you mean… Faces shifted into his mind, then quickly faded into other faces— angry faces, smili
ng faces, worried faces, old faces. That truly happened?
You chose to descend.
You lowered the vibration of your being.
You merged with the body, just as those long before.
You made the transition.
Clarity shot through Lam as full connection returned. Memories that were embedded within the substance of his energy sprang to life as he in mere nanoseconds relived the long history of a crumbling society and its eventual destruction. The wars, the struggles, the pure energetic pain so many others caused tore through his awareness. The efforts of the few had made no difference as those who bewilderingly chose isolation outweighed the balance, and ultimately set the final dissolution into motion.
Waiting until the last possible moment, the few who sought to cherish their kind had finally separated their existence from the collective, and set out to begin a new society. Their awareness was twelve in number, and if they had not been willing to leave before the dissolution had completed, bearing the memories and knowledge of their society, there would no longer be any trace of their kind. They were now The Remnant.
As ages passed, they began to sense a new imbalance.
Although they held the information of their kind in its entirety, they alone were not complete. They found their energy had been siphoned away, iota by iota. The limited cycles of an incomplete collective were not enough for the energy to recycle and rebuild itself. They needed a base point for an inclusive beginning, and they were running out of time to find it.
It was agreed joining a lower vibrational species would be the best chance of their survival— a return to the very root of existence was better than a total loss of their awareness.
The first beings they had encountered had already advanced farther than Lam and The Remnant would have liked, but, in their desperation, had chosen to proceed.
Four of them had been selected to descend and transition into their midst. The plan was to cohabit the existing structures and bodies of the beings, and begin to spread among them, providing a complete cycle for their energy essence to flow freely through. At first, it seemed they had found salvation, but time revealed another outcome— the vibrational structure of the beings proved to be too high to accept a permanent merging. The four pioneers were repeatedly disconnected from their hosts, kicked out over and over until they were finally rejected completely.
They were too dissipated by that point to be able to return to The Remnant.
After such a loss, Lam and the other cherishers were much more cautious in their planning, and all the more hesitant to attempt further vibrational transitions.
They had found three other potential societies before coming to this solar system. Long periods of observation had offered no clues of a solution for them, and brought The Remnant to the decision of passing on all three.
Their time had now nearly expired.
When this place had been discovered, the long, routine observation period began again. Although this was by far the lowest vibrational, least evolved society they had encountered, the remaining eight of The Remnant knew that, success or failure, this was their last stop.
Lam specifically had reached the point of willingness to risk his own awareness for the sake of the group, and when he recognized that the beings of this place were repeating the same pattern he had seen send his own society spiraling into dissolution, it had sealed his decision to descend. He would attempt a cohabitation.
When the body of the one called Pael was seen to be abandoned, the action of entering the body was no sooner thought than done, and the detail of no other awareness inhabiting the body simultaneously proved to be just the key to a successful transition.
Lam refocused his full awareness to the seven around him.
I have found it. We are saved.
• ELEVEN •
“You found it? Good! Now get up— quick!”
Lam slowly opened his eyes to find he was back beside the fire, lying on his back. Twilight had settled around them. He had fallen backwards off the log, but his legs remained draped over it. Ch’kara was awake and kneeling over him with a concerned look on her face. Her expression quickly shifted to relief as she saw he had regained consciousness.
The Shen-Ma stood over his other side. Her walking stick was poised to jab him if necessary. The expression she wore was one of deep sadness that did not shift as she lowered her stick to the ground.
“Lam,” she said.
“You mean ‘Son of Ric’ua,’” he laughed, feeling much more confident than before.
The Shen-Ma’s frown only deepened.
“No. You are now Lam, for the reason of you have now fully embraced and accepted your destiny,” she paused and sighed, “And for the reason of you are no longer the son of Ric’ua.”
Lam sat upright. “Because I am not Pael.”
“Because Ric’ua no longer lives.”
He leapt to his feet. “What are you saying?”
The old woman turned slightly away and did not answer for a moment. He looked to Ch’kara and saw it was apparent she was just as surprised as he was by this information. He looked to the sky and saw the cloud was now nowhere to be seen.
His eyes returned to the Shen-Ma as she heaved a tremendous sigh.
“The Gildok tribe has once again attacked our peaceful village while we have been here. Though all were innocent, most have not survived,” she wiped tears from her cheeks, “Including your mother.”
“What? How is this possible? How do you know?” he demanded. “Why did you not tell me, and let me go help…?” He trailed off as Ch’kara placed her hand on his shoulder.
“This was needed, now more than ever,” the old woman whispered. “Sometimes the Great Way also involves great loss.” She sat heavily to the log, visibly exhausted. He had never seen the Seer this way. “I brought you here because it was time. There was no more time.
“And now it is time once again. You are ready.” She looked up and met his eyes.
“Was…” he slowly said, afraid of the answer, “Was this done… because of… me?” Images of the previous flames consuming his home flashed through his mind.
She shook her head. “No, Lam. This one was not because of you.” She waved her hand in the direction of the village. “Go. Be the Seed.”
Ch’kara sat beside the old woman to indicate she intended to stay. Lam looked toward the village, then back at the women. Both turned their backs to him.
He felt a panic in his chest as he broke into a run. How could this be real? Things had just begun to feel as if they were falling into place. A loving mother, a place in the community, a promising romantic relationship with a beautiful girl, and the discovery of answers to his own life— how could this have happened now?
Tears swam in the corners of his eyes as Lam raced through the forest as fast as he could, dodging tree branches and bushes. He stepped in a hole and fell to his knees. The cry that escaped his lips as he went down startled him. He intentionally yelled again in frustration as he scrambled back up and continued on.
He broke through the tree line and stopped in his tracks.
There were no fires, no smoke. There were not even any broken or crushed huts that he could see. But there was silence. Unnatural stillness.
And there were bodies.
The people who should have been quite active, even at this evening hour, preparing the village for the night, now lay in various places, at awkward angles. He saw no blood on the ground or on the clothes. There was no evidence of cuts or bruises on the bodies, yet still they lay there, clearly dead.
“No, no, no!”
He bolted for his own hut, side-stepping and jumping over the fallen. He yanked down the animal skin door covering and burst inside.
His mother lay unmoving on the ground, her arm outstretched toward the doorway.
Lam dropped to his knees. He remained speechless and unmoving, unable to take his eyes from Ric’ua.
Suddenly, he threw back his head and screame
d.
Lam screamed the scream of one who has lost and lost and lost. He ran out of breath, clenched his fists tighter, inhaled another lungful of air, and screamed again. Again and again he yelled and cried and howled, pouring every ounce of anguish and anger into the sounds.
When he could cry no more, and had no voice left to scream with, Lam slowly stood. He gathered up the animal skin, and laid it over Ric’ua’s body.
“Goodbye, mother,” he whispered.
He emerged to find Ch’kara sitting on the ground in front of the hut, her legs crossed and her head low.
“Lam,” she began.
He lifted a hand, stopping her.
“The Shen-Ma is gone as well, isn’t she?”
Ch’kara nodded, and collapsed into the dirt.
• TWELVE •
Lam rushed to Ch’kara in desperation. He had already lost seemingly everything else in this life, he would not lose her as well.
The urge to flee this place was nearly overwhelming, and he could not shake the feeling of being watched, yet still he took the time to attempt to wake this young woman he felt such a pull to. If the Gildoks were still here, they would have to take him in order to get to her. These feelings overrode the fear pumping through his body.
Had she become victim to the same thing that had killed the rest of the people? No, he could see she was still breathing, which allowed him to release his breath again.
Unable to rouse Ch’kara, yet unable to sit in the open any longer, Lam gathered her limp body and lifted her in his arms. He turned in a circle, and decided that heading east, away from the Gildok land, was the best choice.
He set off into the trees, scrambling along the rocks, leaves, and fallen tree branches as quickly as he could. The electricity of his adrenaline and fear flowed freely, empowering his racing legs and mind. Why was there no blood to be seen on any of the bodies? How had the Gildoks done this monstrous deed? The Shen-Ma had known what was happening, yet had done nothing. Why was that?
Lam looked up through a small clearing as he passed by, and saw the cloud was not above him. Had it been overhead in the village? He’d been too distracted to notice, but did remember it had been gone when he woke beside the Shen-Ma’s fire.
Root (Energy Anthology) Page 4