[Flashback] The Song of the Sea

[Tyuru]

(She's about fourteen in this, but I can't be bothered to figure out the timestamp...)

She never really sang much. Nobody had ever told her, ‘Tyuru, you have the most beautiful singing voice!’ or ‘Please sing for us Tyuru, your voice is so hauntingly lovely.’ But now she was singing, and it was a sound her ears liked. She was out picking plain stalks of grass for her mother. ‘The wide ones,’ her mother had said, ‘with the hint of yellow near the bottom. Those always weave the best baskets, and if you separate the fibers, you can spin them into rope and sometimes cloth, like flax.’ Tyuru had just nodded and escaped into the fields, carrying a yellowing, fraying basket against her hip. The endless Sea swayed in all areas of her vision as she pushed aside the entry flap to the Pavilion, leaving the campsite behind and moving toward the open. She had never had dreams of leaving to seek a fortune or to be free. She was realistic about what she expected to get from life; probably to marry soon, and to forever serve her clan by being a good wife and mother. A mother? She bent to the grass and spotted the kind her mother had described. It was waxy between her fingers and she picked it with difficulty, tugging a couple times on it before it came loose. She studied it closely, saw the cluster of dirt around the base, thin, white roots snaking from it like cautious feelers. There was the yellow, pale around the base and darkening as it progressed upwards, eventually fading into a pleasant green. It was wide and thin, and Tyuru bent it easily, bending it until it folded. She expected it to snap or break, but it was tough, and she had to gnaw on it to do any damage. It broke apart into slimy fibers that she could peel off and separate. Well, that’s ruined now, she thought, and let the blade of grass drop to the ground. She found another, tugged, felt it give way, and laid it in her basket. They were everywhere. How had she not noticed this before? Amazing, she thought. Amazing what you can do with nature. As she worked, the muscles in her back and neck knotted from the effort of constantly bending and pulling in that cramped position. The sun was beating down on her mercilessly and she unfolded the cloth that had been hanging from her belt and draped it over her head to block out the harsh rays. As she tugged at the stubborn blades of grass, she became aware of that one moment, that particular instant where the grass went from being rooted to being free. It was peculiar, and she focused on it as she went. That single second where the roots gave and the earth parted and the grass left the ground, the white tendrils leaving the warm soil and dancing in the air as she moved her hand away. Soon the rest of the world was lost. Tyuru was completely focused on the way the grass was one moment a part of the earth, the ecosystem, the surroundings, and the next its own individual blade instead of one of many in a field of many. It became singular and its aliveness was no longer shared with the rest of the sea. Its aliveness was its own. My aliveness is my own, too, she thought dimly, setting the grass down unconsciously in the basket at her hip. But how do I share it with everything else? Her thoughts were disjointed, swimming in her mind as she continued the constant find, pull, place motion. She felt again the single moment of change, and somehow, it overjoyed her. That was how she found the Web. I am connected, she thought. She could feel the plants in her mind, could sense the animals crawling through the grass, could hear the voice of the wind swimming in the sea of stalks like a graceful fish. She could even feel the presence of other Drykas connected to the Web, up to hundreds or maybe thousands of miles away. It was exhilarating. The powerful feeling that swept through her as she realised she was part of it was amazing and she fell to her knees. As the power flowed through her, she opened her mouth and a sound came from her, one single sustained sound that turned into a note, and then into a song. The power shifted and the raw sound coming from her throat changed pitch. The ever-changing winds of the Web passed through her with such force that her body was becoming weak, but still her voice lifted, giving evidence to the beauty of it. The sound of her singing was unpracticed, raw and primal, and to her ears it was the most beautiful sound anyone could make, the song of the land and the wilderness and the power and grace of all the things that lived in it. The stream of sound coming from her flowed, ebbed and shifted with the waters of the Sea of Grass, moving with it and flying with it in a haunting melody, accompanied by the ever-present harmony of the cries of glassbeaks, the hisses of serpents, the echoing calls of animal young, the spirited neighing of wild horses. Eventually she could handle it no more and her song drew to a close, her voice fading into the hot air and her spirit floating back to become rooted once again to her body. She was exhausted. She slumped forward, breathing hard, her insides burning like she had swallowed fire or breathed steam. Despite the fatigue her body felt, her mind was racing like the wind and her spirit was desperately trying to join the Web once more. It frightened her and exhilarated her all at once. How wonderful, the immense joy of the Web! But she knew, without a doubt, that if you poured too much of yourself into the Web, tried too hard to be one with it or tried to feel further than was possible, you would disintegrate, your consciousness becoming one with the Web and, in turn, the Sea of Grass. It was dangerous and beautiful and exciting, and she knew she would never be able to do it again, not to the extent she had accomplished. If she did, she would overgive. What a strange word, yet the perfect word to describe it. Giving too much of yourself into the world, the magical Web that the Drykas had woven centuries before, intricately made with exquisite knot work keeping the whole land tied together in place. But there was something more, she mused. There was something bigger than the Web that the Web was inevitably connected to, something on a far grander scale. Tyuru could put no name to it and she let it go. What business did she have, delving into the greater parts of things? She was only one person. But part of a world that was much, much bigger.

[Charon]

Thread Experience Awards Tyuru XP: +1 in Gathering, +2 in Webbing, +2 in Singing Lore: Awareness of the Drykas Web, Cyphrus Region Flora Mod Notes: I enjoy seeing Tyuru's insights of the world around her come to her and how she deals with them and thinks of them. I like how you describe her encounter with the Web and how you explain her thoughts and feelings. Keep it up!