posted on Nov, 11 2014 @ 05:16 PM
A low moan, sounding of peace and relief, escaped its throat. She continued until its leg was ready to receive the bone again, which she had
softened. She quieted the pain in his cells and slipped the bone back into his body to rejoin, then, she cut across her hand with her knife, and with
a stream of luminous droplets of her own life fluid dripped into the wound, she let her own cells command the creature’s body into rapid healing,
just as her own flesh could perform.
The wound sealed easily. The creature’s breath came in deep calm rhythms as it felt the gift of her blood. It flowed through him, connecting him
to her ‘anchi’ directly, and she sang and hummed and healed in the comfort of the dark caves of the Mother.
Finally, its head, which also had the red metallic liquid clotted all around a swelling wound, received the same treatment.
When it was done, she found the creature staring at her, its small, flat eyes wide. She patted it, thinking to comfort it, and it grabbed her wrist
with a quick, dangerous motion. She hissed and growled and it held her hand more gently. It explored in the dark, the trace of her webbed fingers,
the outlines of her phosphorescence on her arm, the drawings on her skin there, the pads of the delicate suction cups on the ends of her fingers. The
creature pulled something out of its bag, muttering, digging. It was a small boxy thing with strange, unnatural angles. He pointed it at her and it
clicked.
A sudden burst of light wrenched a scream from her throat as her eyes burned and were blinded by the intensity of the burning world’s light. She
cowered and withdrew to the dark, not seeing, not feeling anything but searing, tearing pain as her body reacted. She felt liquid drip down her face
and felt her eyes - they were hurt. She screamed again and again, flailing to find her ‘anchi’ to calm herself.
The creature, startled, reacted and had scooted away from her with its now-usable limbs. Then it calmed and came for her gently, apology in the
resonance of its voice when she was able to feel it. She crawled past it over to where her bag was and felt miserably for the sea water. She bent
her ‘anchi’ to her own healing and hoped her eyes hadn’t burst entirely. She opened the bottle of sea water and dripped it over her eyes and
washed her drying hands in it, refreshing the jelly on her skin.
It talked to her. She waved it away. Eventually, when she could see the soft glow of her plants again, she saw the creature standing up, feeling the
walls and trying to climb up, blunt fingered as it was. She saw where it had fallen down; a long narrow shaft that split the ceiling. But the walls
were too slick for it, without enough places for it to hold onto.
She could climb it rather easily, she thought, and use her tools to make it hand holds, and unwrap the strong sea vines that kept her skin moist to
make ropes for it to climb. It pointed up with its strange finger and attempted to climb again, sliding back down without much progress. The
creature in its filthy clothing slumped its body in defeat, then looked at her, pleading silently across the space between them, filling the space
with need she could feel in her ‘anchi.’
She unwrapped her vines from her glowing skin, and she saw it startle back as more of her translucent, shimmering skin was revealed. She found
herself getting tired more easily, and did not like how the air seemed odd and thin and didn’t fill her like she needed. She coughed dryly, and
realized she would need to hurry to survive. Still, she was Called to help this creature get back up to the Burning Lands; it was clear it would not
survive in her world. She did not know how she knew this, but it had to do with the harsh light - the light that fed him, would not feed her, she
knew, and it went the other way as well.
She knotted the vines into a rope and easily sprung from the floor and scrabbled up the narrow, smoothly slick walls; they felt good to her -
reminding her of the wetness she needed to return to soon. Breathing hard, she drilled a quick hole through a hand’s width of the limestone, using
her tools, and a concoction of acidic plant jellies. It took a while, but she was fast at this kind of work - she sang to soften the stone just like
the bones she had mended. She pulled the vine rope through the thick hole and knotted it firmly, then tossed the length of it down. She hummed and
called to the creature, saying “Come. Come up. Come.”
It seemed to understand. It scrambled and pulled and slipped and slid and fought its way up using her rope and its poor hands and clothed feet. It
was a very long climb. She watched and hoped and waited, wincing as it struggled, and sending encouraging chirps as it slowly succeeded in making the
climb. When it came as far up the rope as it could, she reached down her hand and it caught hers and she pulled with her great strength.
The creature scurried up to her perch where she saw in the dark the shine of strange metallic shapes that she knew must belong to the creature. She
reached in her pack and threw a glowing blob at the metal so it could see with its small eyes. Then, she realized, her skin began to hurt more and
more and her lungs as well, her gills felt dry; she had little time, nearly naked as she was.
She reached in her pack for one last thing - a gift to the creature of several more glowing buds to help light its way. Then, it grabbed her hand
again, but lightly. It’s other hand pulled something shiny from around its neck and placed it into her hand, with words that hissed and clacked and
felt like gratitude. Then it slowly gathered its metal objects, and with a wave at her, headed up the way it had come. She waved back.
She touched the shiny metal gift - it was a pair of flat, strange, almost boxy shapes with rounded ends, and with odd boxy symbols embedded in them.
Next to these was a metal shape of two lines that made more boxy angles, crossed in the middle. It was on a metal chain of little balls strung
together. She had never seen anything like it. It still held a bit of the creatures warmth and she realized it was an ‘anchi’ gift - something
dear to the person, yes, person, that wore it. That was the Spirit’s lesson. The Burning Lands held people, not simply the demons and monsters of
old tales, and she was now connected to that greater part of the world.
As she hurried back down into the blessed dark, into the wet and cool world that was hers, she pondered this, and thrummed a spirit song in thanks for
this Calling…they were connected now, through blood and ‘anchi’ and she would always have its song connected to her own…
(cont)