Student Once More
I look up to the setting sun, faint under the dense canopy. A full day now I have travelled, alone once more save the curious mind of a small bird that follows me. And also the weight of sin contained in the kyber at my belt.
I have walked these paths before, these woods stretch far from the mountains, and the wealth they store. Far from the war, and the gyre forming there. A terrible thing that is seeping into the core of this world, and corrupting all the life it touches.
I let out a sigh at the thought. It is not yet complete, this corruption, the creatures I feel around, those hundreds of little motes are not yet under its sway. It can be turned back yet. I look to the bag at my side, to the crystal within, And move forward. I’m not yet where I need to be.
Some hours more pass as I move silently through the dense brush, sensing the various creatures around me, reptiles and birds, small groups of animals, hidden from view in burrow and brush. They watch curiously as I stride through their domain, or pay little heed. Most had never seen a being as I, a truth I hope will remain true.
The tugging from the winds stops now. I am here. I look and listen, take in my surround calmly, seeing through the winds as much as my own senses. Tall trees, old and filled with life dig deep, burrows under my feet and insects and larger thing around. I spot a lazy waterway winding through the grounds, and the words of my first Teacher echo in my mind.
“Water Tradana, is the most sacred thing to a place, it cleanses and changes, moves and grows. Always seek it out, and it will lend you these strengths in turn.” I smile at thoughts of times past, old mix with new, and ever on.
This is what the winds brought me to, of this I had no doubt. A few steps more take me to the small creek’s edge. I look down upon it, calm, as with the life inside. Small crustaceans and fish mingle within its shallow depths, gathering matter flowing down stream.
“I am sorry but I must make use of this place for a time,” I say to the creatures as I kneel beside the bank. Reaching out through the winds I impart into their minds thoughts of shade and fresh currents down stream. With that imparted the assorted mobile life makes its way out of the area I seek to use.
The site of this first trial.
“Old as with new” I say with a deep breath, taking the crystal from my pouch holding it gently in my palms. A thing glowing sickly red, pulsing with hurt. It’s peace rent and wounded. Now it seeks to wound in turn.
I stare deep into the shiny surface of the crystal before submerging it in the stream, still cupped in my hands. Letting the cool water drift over it. I begin.
I reach out and touch the crystal through the winds making contact for the first time. I close my eyes and chant as the screams fill my mind,
"Come you children of winds, you who are but visitors. Be as the valley, direct the winds to blow now upon this thing.”
I open myself to the wound and start to pull out the corruption. Presenting myself as its lure. It wished to hurt, so shall it try. My new teacher calls it the Force, but I cannot call it so rough a thing. It is gentle, inviting. Yet fierce.
“Come now winds, whose touch carves mountain and bends trees, find hold the cracks of this gyre, let fly it to far fields. Disperse and find peace in its absence.” My voice, so seldom raised move to a louder chant.
I focus on this tendril through the winds, grab hold as I had seen Sarken do. I pull, rending out more and more of this swirling mass, my brow knits as I battle this will as it resists every twist. I take what I have and expose it to the winds, drive them through, Sarken saw fire that day in the circle, a bright heat. But I saw a cool breeze.
“Come now you seeds, take to flight and be one again. Take not this twisted form, be not of gyre, go back to the stream and become whole once more.” My voice is hard and loud, yet the bird from earlier and other creature simply watch, if they can truly see in their simplicity is not for me to know, a battle I fight.
I pull harder now, in a violent tug something deep in the Kyber gives, and the winds catch. Slowly to my eyes the darkness drifts and pulls apart, lacking its anchor and not having root in me. It drifts, a gyre no more, now as simple memory. I turn my head, eyes following what they cannot see, and my voice drop to a soft whisper.
“Come now you who are left.” I say raising the crystal from the water slowly, suspending it just above my hands. “Come now and bask in the calm of the winds, their warmth and pull shall guide. Lick thy wounds, become whole once more, and rise again.”
I stand, slowly cupping the crystal to my chest, glowing now a faint green. And turn back to the temple. Back home.