Primal Passions: Issue #10- See No Evil
Primal Passions: Issue #10- See No Evil
Downtown Quarry City, among a large expanse of buildings abandoned due to the decimation of the final battle of the Blackout Incident.......
Two figures limped down the length of the alley, one heavily supporting the other. A german shepherd walked quietly beside them, scanning the shadows with his eyes. Seeing no immediate danger the canine turned its head towards the pair.
(Where are we going, Johnny?) Pavlov asked telepathically.
"I....I don't know Pavlov," Johnny Prophecy whispered between grunts as he helped Borg-9 down the alley. "I still can't see anything. It's like looking through a fog. I can see about five seconds ahead but that's about it. We're running blind."
Upon hearing this, Pavlov nervously ran to the end of the alley to scout ahead. Sniffing along the alley, he discovered what appeared to be an old basement access behind one of the condemned apartment buildings, its door held shut by a rusted padlock and chain.
(Over here! We can hide here!)
Prophecy quickly increased his pace, Borg-9 desperately trying to keep up as they hobbled over.
"9," Prophecy whispered exhaustedly. "Do you think you can break it?"
Borg-9 did not speak as he struggled to target on the lock with his cybernetic eye. The lock slipped in and out of focus as he sluggishly lifted his right arm. Swinging downward he mangled the rusty piece of metal with a mighty blow.
While Prophecy continued to support Borg-9, Pavlov opened the access with his telekinesis. The odor that wafted up from the basement was rank with rat urine and mold. Pavlov bit back his disgust as they descended into the basement, closing the doors behind them.
Prophecy quickly leaned Borg-9 against a wall before sitting down next to him in exhaustion.
"Are you alright 9?" Prophecy asked redundantly.
Borg-9 shook his head jerkily as he tried to speak. His words came out crackly and hollow.
"What did...what did they......hit us with? I can't......I can't...." he droned as he struggled to focus his thoughts.
"Some kind of electromagnetic pulse," Prophecy guessed as he wiped the sweat from his eyes, taking off the sunglasses he wore despite the fact that it was night.
(The communicator in my collar got fried too,) added Pavlov. (I've been concentrating on it ever since we started to run but I can't get a signal through to The Agency or the GDF. Do you think that's what's messing with your powers Johnny?)
"I don't know Pavlov. Maybe, but I'm afraid it's something else. Every time I try to see the future, this red haze appears. The harder I try, the thicker it gets. It's almost like someone knows when I'm about too...."
Prophecy suddenly grew silent as an empty bottle skittered in the alley above.
(It's them!) Pavlov screamed mentally as his ears pivoted towards the noise. (Hurry Johnny! We've gotta move!)
Prophecy quickly moved to pick up Borg-9 when they heard a thud from the floor above. Their enemies were in the alley outside and in the building's ground floor. They were trapped.
Pavlov turned his back towards his comrades as he faced the door to the alley and the stairwell. A growl resonated in his throat.
Prophecy placed his hands against his temples as he strained to use his powers. After an agonizing moment he got a brief flash of foresight.
"Pavlov, there's a broken street level window above some boxes on the far side of the basement. You have to climb out and go for help," he said calmly.
(No! I'm not leaving you! We'll do it together! Come on!) Pavlov countered as he pulled the sleeve of Prophecy's uniform with his teeth.
"I can't Pavlov. We won't make if we go together. You're the only one I saw. I have to stay here with Borg."
(NO!) Pavlov screamed as his ears flattened against his head.
"That's an order Agent 5!" Johnny Prophecy commanded as he pulled rank on Pavlov.
Pavlov's ears went flat against his head as he tucked his tail between his legs. Prophecy's features softened as he reached out to rub Pavlov behind the ears with both hands. Pavlov whined as his superior and best friend said goodbye perhaps for the last time. The basement access doors boomed as they were violently thrown open.
"GO!" yelled Prophecy as Pavlov dashed for the far side of the basement and the escape offered by the window.
Prophecy quickly sprang to his feet and drew his firearm, firing into the rushing mob with uncharacteristically bad aim. His enemies surged forth oblivious to their own peril, knowing that they had more comrades than he had bullets. His gun empty, Prophecy quickly scooped up an old crowbar and prepared for close combat.
"Drop it," ordered a voice above the rabble of the pursuers, who quickly grew still.
An elderly man in an immaculate grey suit and red tie stood upon the stairs leading into the filthy basement.
"Forgive me Reverend Stone but I'll have to decline," countered Prophecy as he assumed a kenjutsu stance with the poorly matched crowbar.
"I seriously doubt your friend could survive another blast of this," Stone said smugly as the deacon beside him raised a bulky weapon, the head of which resembled a spotlight.
"You're going to kill us both anyway."
"No," Stone said sincerely. "He wants you both alive."
"Who?" Prophecy demanded as he focused upon Stone's words, trying to focus his powers and gleam answers from the future. Reverend Stone raised his left hand and turned it towards Prophecy, revealing the symbol that had been carved into the flesh of his palm. Prophecy was again confounded by the pulsing red haze which filled his mind's eye. Suddenly a vision was forced upon him, like a burning knife stabbed between his eyes, causing him to sink to his knees and drop the crowbar.
Pavlov ran between the decrepit buildings, panting as his paws pounded the pavement. He raced back towards the alley where their surveillance van had been attacked. There were spare communicators hidden within the vehicle, if Pavlov could reach it in time then......
Suddenly Pavlov's body twisted, his legs flying out from under him as his side was struck with a tremendous force.
The image shifted to the rooftop of a nearby building.
Anarchy rose from his firing stance, the sniper rifle still clutched firmly in his hands. "Target eliminated," he spoke into the microphone-headset that he wore.
"Pavlov," Prophecy chocked both in mourning and in pain as he convulsed upon the filthy floor of the old apartment building's basement, the crowbar laying forgotten beside him.
Borg-9 spastically crawled across the floor, his head and limbs shaking as he tried to come the aid of his superior.
"Take them," Reverend Stone ordered before the mob once again surged forth and easily over-powered their quarry.
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The Planet Loris, many light years away from Earth.............
Obigo leaned slightly on his gnarled wooden staff as he limped made his way through the palace and into the royal gardens. Despite this, the wizened man moved silently and with surprising speed as he sought out the source of the song that echoed throughout the corridors.
Princess Nephia sang sweetly as she swept her hand through the fountain in the center of the garden. She watched as the ripples danced across the water while several of the aquatic flowers on its surface bloomed into luminous shades of blue. She continued to sing, willing the other buds to open. Sensing Obigo's presence, she turned.
"Good day, Obigo," she greeted her councilor.
"Good day, Princess," the sage returned as he bowed his hooded head.
"What brings you to the gardens?"
"Highness, I was meditating in my sanctum, surveying the kingdom for peril as I do every day when I took it upon myself to extend my consciousness to the planet Earth."
The princess smiled. The planet Earth was home to Max Thrust, a brash young warrior who had once assisted the Star Knight in ridding her world of a terrible tyrant and returning her to the throne. His willingness to sacrifice his life for her people had shown that a true hero lie beneath his arrogant façade and although she would not admit it aloud, Obigo knew that she was smitten by his foolhardy charm.
"And how is Max?" she asked lightly.
"I.....do not know, Highness. That is why I came to you," the sage explained with apprehension. "Whenever I try to observe events on Earth my vision is clouded by a strange red haze almost as if someone or something is intentionally shielding it from me. "
"For what purpose?" Nephia asked.
"I know not, Highness, but it bodes ill. I fear that Earth is in terrible danger. I must divine the nature of this force that hinders me and for that I need your help."
"My help? What can I do?"
"In order to discover the source of this threat I must ascend to a higher plane. Your gift may help to hasten my journey."
"Obigo, charming flowers and animals is an amusing skill but I cannot bend the very substance of existence," she stated fearfully.
"Please Highness, the ability to harness the life song is nothing to make light of. You possess more power than you know," the wizened man assured her.
"Very well," Nephia decreed. "But if you are to go then so must I."
"Your Highness....."
"No, Obigo," Nephia said cutting him short. "If Max is in danger I must know. Tell me what I must do."
Reluctantly the wiseman agreed. Leading the princess away from the fountain, he sat cross-legged upon the blue-green grass and instructed her to sit facing him. After she had done this, he took a pouch of polished stones from his robes and spilled them upon the grass. The then arranged the stones so that they formed a circle between Nephia and himself.
"You must draw upon the life song and focus it. Imagine forging it into a gate. Will it to open and concentrate on keeping it open. I will do the rest," Obigo instructed as he took Nephia's hands gently in his. He waited until she lightly began to sing before closing his own eyes. It took the mystic but a moment to separate his spirit from his body. He hesitated a moment longer before pulling Nephia's consciousness along with him.
As Obigo had hoped the gate to the outer realm opened easily under Nephia's coaxing. He swiftly guided them through the phantom barrier and into the great beyond. He heard Nephia gasp in awe beside him at the sight that stretched out before them. Between the endless twilit sky and the grey sea that mirrored it, hovered a colossal tower. Impossibly huge golden cogs and silver gears moved and shifted along the surface of the obelisk as its upper and lower halves rotated in opposite directions. They now gazed upon the Cosmic Clock.
This was not another dimension. On the contrary, this was where the inner most workings of their reality resided, just beyond the veil of mortal perception. They were backstage of the great play of life. If an answer was to be found it would be here.
Because their spirits could not physically interact with this plane, they were not bound by the limitations of mortal bodies. He patiently guided Nephia as they drifted through the outer wall of the tower and into its clockwork interior as if they did not even exist. Although the experience must have been overwhelming to her, she seemed to take everything in stride, proving once again that she possessed the resolve of a true ruler.
They walked without sensation through a hall of crystalline pendulums before coming to the center of the tower. In the center of the large sprawling room stood an ornate desk. Seated at the desk, a tall, slender young man diligently scribbled into a large tome with a gleaming quill. Through the arch to his right, a small child trekked up and down a ladder organizing books in an immense library. Through the arch to his left, an old man sat gazing through an enormous astronomer's telescope at the vastness beyond the obelisk.
"You do not belong here Obigo," all three spoke in unison without looking away from their work.
"Please, Tempus," Obigo begged as Nephia stood silently beside her guide, observing. "You know that I would not come here if it were not of the direst importance. I fear that billions of lives are in danger. You know all things past, present and future. I beseech you. What is this terrible dread that plagues my soul?"
"I cannot tell you, Obigo. It is not within my power. I was created to observe and document the time-stream, not to alter it," the three spoke. "For better or worse, events will unfold as they must. Time cannot play favorites."
Obigo paused as he calmly contemplated how to proceed. Becoming upset would be pointless. Dealing with the Transcendents was often tricky. They were just as much forces of nature as actual beings. One could no more expect them to go against their nature anymore than fire or water. Even so, Tempus seemed to genuinely regret his inability to help.
"If time cannot be altered, then what can?" asked Obigo.
"Fate," replied the three forms of Tempus.
"And where might I find fate?" the mystic asked, encouraged.
"Beyond this chamber lies the pattern of the grand design. There you will find my sister Fate-Weaver."
"Thank you, Tempus," Obigo bowed before motioning for Nephia to follow him. Together they walked through the desk and its owner like a pair of ghosts. As they had been told, a doorway now gaped upon the wall behind the desk regardless of whether or not it had been there before.
"Hurry Obigo," the three voices softly spoke in the most solemn of tones. "Time is running out for all of us."
The sight that greeted Obigo and Nephia beyond the door was impossible. The room that stretched out before them was as vast and infinite as the void outside the tower itself. An ever shifting pattern of swirling silver cosmos swam across the expanse. Entwined throughout the living work of art, stretching out into the endless beyond, they noticed hundreds of tiny gossamer threads, all originating from one common source directly before them.
The woman sat cross-legged, facing away from them upon what appeared to be an impossibly beautiful spider's web, its threads woven into bizarre geometric shapes. Her face was thin and flawless, her eyes like two orbs of polished silver. She was incredibly tall and thin, possessing six arms. Four of the hands danced delicately as they manipulated the silver strands that stretched on into infinity, her fingers winding, unwinding, and weaving simple patterns into the array. As they slowly drifted toward her across the plane of the web, Obigo saw that her remaining two hands remained motionless, each finger laden with a multitude of taught strings that stretched out directly before her.
"I welcome you Obigo and you Princess Nephia," she spoke as they came into view of her large silvery eyes. "I have been expecting you."
"Are you the one called Fate-Weaver?" Obigo asked.
"I am," she replied as she absently continued to interlace patterns.
"You know why we have come?" Nephia asked as she stood silently trembling beside Obigo. Although strong willed, the successive parade of impossible sights was taking its toll on her nerves.
"Of course I do, child," Fate-Weaver spoke as she pinched a thread gently between the thumb and forefinger of one of her active left hands. "I brought you here." The Transcedent gently stroked the thread. Nephia's trembling ceased almost immediately.
"But we came of our own will," the princess stated in a now calm voice.
"To your eyes perhaps, but I am the one who set in motion the events which brought you her. It happened because I wove it into the grand design."
"You decide our fates?" asked Obigo with unease.
"No," Fate-Weaver explained. "My task is to weave together the strings of individual lives into the tapestry of fate according to grand design. I am fates maker, not its architect. I am forbidden from interfering with free will or influencing the physical realm in any way"
"But have you not done just that by bringing us here?" asked Obigo. "Why would you interfere with the pattern of the grand design now?"
"Because it has already been contaminated."
With the pull of a few threads Fate-Weaver caused the cosmos around the trio seemed to shift. A distant pattern of threads that hung in the air directly in front of them seemed to draw closer. As it drew nearer, Obigo saw that it actually consisted of a massive ball of tangled threads surrounded by alternating diamond and hexagon shapes.
"These are the intertwined fates of all those that reside upon the planet Earth," stated Fate-Weaver.
"Earth?" asked Nephia.
"Yes, but something has happened. The pattern has been altered by an outside force."
"What force?" asked Obigo.
"I know not, but its power is great."
It was then that Obigo noticed the red thread. Unlike the other threads, the red strand actually seemed to originate from the void beyond Fate-Weaver's web. It appeared to be woven into an ominous symbol, stretching across the surface of the massive tangle of fates.
"I have tried to purge it but it is beyond me. It is all that I can do to contain it but it is growing in strength. Soon I fear it may break free and corrupt the rest of the grand design. The contamination has blocked all my attempts to warn Earth. That is why I have summoned you. You must return beyond the veil and send aid to the Earth. Stop the contamination before it spreads to the rest of the universe."
"How are we to stop something that you yourself cannot? You are Transcendant. Is there nothing more you can do?"
"I am sorry Obigo," Fate-Weave spoke. "I cannot help you. I cannot help any of you. I cannot help myself."
It was only then that Obigo noticed that Fate-Weaver was bleeding. The strain of maintaining the pattern to contain the evil was causing the taught threads wrapped around her stationary hands to cut deeply into the flesh of her long, graceful fingers. Her silvery, luminescent blood dripped from her hands and ran along the lengths of otherworldly silk.
"Please Obigo, you must hurry. I cannot hold it back forever," she pleaded as tears streamed from the corners of her eyes.
Obigo was so engrossed with Fate-Weaver's beseeching that he did not notice the sound of low whispering until it was too late. He quickly turned to see Princess Nephia slowly approaching the tangled ball fates which composed the Earth. Her hand stretched out slowly to touch the red that now infected it.
"Majesty, no!" Obigo cried. The princess did not even flinch at his cry before her fingers came to rest upon the crimson strand despite the fact that she should not have been able to touch anything in that place. The princess was startled from her trance as she cried out, her scream torn somewhere between abject torment and orgasmic ecstasy. Obigo stood frozen in terror as his monarch screamed. It was only when he finally took a step towards her that her scream abruptly gave way to an eerie silence. The princess stood unmoving, her hand slowly sliding off of the red thread.
"Nephia?" Obigo spoke softly, his voice fearful. The princess swung around quickly at the sound of his voice, a cruel smile upon her face. Her eyes gave off a strange red sheen in the light of the surrounding stars.
"No," Fate-Weaver whispered. "Not here."
Nephia began to walk towards Obigo and the Transcendant. As she did, she reached up and clutched the taught group of wires that ran from Fate-Weaver's hands to the Earth. Fate-Weaver cried out in pain as the threads cut deeper into her flesh. The princess glared at Obigo as she approached him, the pure malice of her gaze causing the sage to retreat from her path, his staff held defensively. She then her attention back upon the weaver, her vindictive grip upon the threads never relenting until it had at last reached her target. Reaching out, Nephia's delicate hands seized the immortal's neck in an iron grip despite the fact that she should not have been able to touch her at all. Fate-Weaver gasped as the thing that had been Nephia stood upon her lap and began to squeeze. Although she did not breathe or have need for air, very touch of the thing possessing Nephia burned her and seemed to drain her of her very being and immobilizing her body.
"Meddlesome sprite," Nephia spat, her voiced replaced by a deeper male baritone as she glared into Fate-Weaver's silvery eyes. "Do you think that you can stop me with your futile meddling? Do you think that I cannot feel the strumming of your threads as you weave obstacles into my path?"
"I will cut their threads one by one," the male voice taunted through Nephia's lips. "Nothing shall stand in my way. The purity of The Word shall spread to every corner of this existence and beyond."
Obigo slid silently up behind the princess, his hand outstretched and the incantation that would return them home upon his lips. He must abandon his quest for answers. Whatever danger the Earth might be in, it was nothing compared to the destruction that the thing possessing the princess might reek here within the very heart of their universe. His hand was mere inches from her shoulder when she reeled and snatched his arm in a crushing grip, her eyes gleaming with crimson madness.
"Praise me," the thing inside Nephia growled, the silky male voice now replaced by something that sounded like the scrapping bone and the ripping of flesh.
Obigo cried out in pain as the touch of the thing within Nephia scorched his soul, yet he cast his eyes aside. Somehow he knew instinctively that if his spirit-self looked the thing in its fierce red eyes now that he would be lost to it. The incantation to return them to their bodies spilled from his lips as she clutched him. As he chanted the words, Fate-Weaver took advantage of the distraction and the lessened grip of the possessed woman. She flexed a single finger around which were wrapped the fates of both Obigo and Nephia, one now stained red. All at once the infinity around Nephia and Obigo vanished in an explosion of silvery light.
Obigo's eyes fluttered open as sat upon the grass of the royal gardens once again. Across from him, Nephia did the same.
"Are you alright Majesty?" Obigo asked cautiously.
"No, Obigo," the princess said as tears began to roll down her cheeks. "I am not alright. It was in my mind. It made me do things. It made me think such.....horrible things."
The old man quickly came to the side of the young monarch and wrapped his arms around her as she began to sob. It was a familiar scene. Nephia's father had died when she was very young, leaving her mother to rule. Growing up the princess had looked upon the stern but kind advisor as a father and he too had come to love her like a daughter.
"I am sorry," he crooned as she cried into his shoulder. "I never should have taken you there. Only I should have risked the danger."
"It called out to me," she sobbed. "It made itself sound like Max but it was not him. It was not him."
Just then two guards began to pass through the gardens on security patrol, firearms strapped to one side of their lightly armored bodies, a sword strapped to the other. Upon seeing the disheveled state of their normally serene ruler they rushed over quickly.
"Majesty, Councilor, is something wrong," the taller guard asked.
Obigo felt the princess' body relax beside him as her tears stopped abruptly. She lifter her head from his shoulder and rose to her feet before she faced the guards. Her tear streaked face held now held no sign of distress or fear but instead sported only an amused grin and confident eyes. Then the princess opened her mouth and began to sing. Obigo heard the song and knew immediately that it was wrong, that he had been fooled. A strange pounding began behind his eyes as whispering voices hidden within the song called out to him. A look of disorientation came over the faces of the guards as they too felt the effects of the tainted song.
Obigo quickly sprang to his, screaming the loudest prayers that he could think of to drown out the sound as he clubbed the back of the princesses head with his staff. He then quickly spun and clubbed the two guards before they had a chance to draw their weapons, leaving nothing to chance.
"GUARDS!!!" he shrieked. "SELIUN!!!"
It was not long before the garden was flooded by guards, their captain, Seliun at the lead.
"Obigo, what happened?!" Seliun demanded as he knelt to help the unconscious princess.
"Do not touch her!" Obigo demanded.
Seliun halted. Only the command of the trusted sage or of the now retired queen herself could possibly have stopped him from aiding Nephia.
"I will explain everything to you Seliun but for the moment you must trust me. The princess is overcome by a dark force. If it is allowed to it will attempt to infect others and possess them too as it attempted to do with these men. Both the princess and these guards must be bound and gagged."
"You attack the princess in the gardens, accuse her of being possessed and then order me to have her bound and gagged before she can even speak in her defense," Seliun demanded as he looked at Obigo in outrage. "And I am to do this based only on your word."
"Hear me, Seliun," Obigo replied sternly but sadly. "I know your duty is to protect the princess but if you do not do exactly as I say then you may very well jeopardize her safety, the safety of our people, and the safety of countless others. Do as I say, lock them in isolation, leave your men to guard them and then take me straight to Queen Arylie. Do this only for now, until I have had a chance to explain everything. Please my friend, for the sake of all Loris, I beg you."
Seliun looked at the old man for a few more moments before reluctantly giving his men orders to bind Nephia and the two guards and to lock them in the palace infirmary until he said otherwise. Under Obigo's compulsion he also commanded his men to have no contacts with the trio whatsoever under penalty of imprisonment. The captian of the guard then marched the old sage directly to the elderly queen's chambers and demanded that he explain himself.
It took nearly an hour for Obigo to explain everything in detail and convince Seliun and the queen of his truthfulness. It was only then that the sorrow and dread of the situation became apparent.
"What shall we do?" Seliun asked as he paced beside the large chair in which queen Arylie sat. "Nephia is our ruler, if her mind has been corrupted..."
"There is a chance that she can be saved," Obigo stated calmly. "I know little of this entity that afflicts her, save that it is currently located on Earth. I think that she will return to herself if the source of this evil is defeated. Until then I think that the queen should resume temporary rule of Loris. That is, if you think that you are able your majesty."
"Yes, Obigo," Queen Arylie responded bleakly. "I am able."
Obigo frowed. Although the queen had stepped down to allow her daughter to ascend the throne, she had still remained as lively and as wise as ever despite her age. Now, in the wake of her daughter's danger, she seemed much smaller and frailer than ever before.
"You say that the princess will be restored if we defeat this evil?" Lenius asked desperately. "Then let us go there! Let us take a fleet of star-gliders to Earth, hunt it down and annihilate it!"
"It is not that simple Lenius," Obigo explained as he shook his head. "Earth is on the other side of the known systems, and if what the Fate-Weaver said is true we would never make it in time to stop this evil from spreading to the stars. Our fleet would find itself pitted against entire systems, not just a single planet."
"Is there no way to contact Max Thrust, or bring him here again to warn him," the queen asked thoughtfully.
"No majesty. It was the power of the Star Knight that brought Max to our aid the first time and he has not been seen in this system since."
"Then find him," the queen said, some of the familiar iron coming back to her voice.
"Majesty?" Seliun asked, stopping his pacing.
"You heard me, both of you. If the Star Knight can save my daughter then you must find him. Obigo, venture back into your beyond worlds if you must. Seliun, send star-gliders in every direction, search every surrounding system and beyond. Do not stop searching until you have found him."
"Majesty, if our enemies learn that the princess is incapacitated and the fleet is dispersed, we might not be able to fend off an attack," Seliun cautioned her.
"This is greater than my daughter or our world, Seliun," the queen chided him. "If what Obigo has said is true then entire systems could fall victim to this plague, including ours. Stopping it is the most important thing. Nothing else matters. Your queen has spoken."
"Yes, Majesty," Obigo and Seliun chorused before carrying out their orders.
Obigo was descending into the depths of the palace where his meditation chamber was located when the roar of the first wave of star-gliders hummed through the foundations of the palace. The vibrations were quickly silenced as he entered the sound proofed room chamber. A polished stone floor, decorated with a design not unlike that of Fate-Weaver's web stretched between for large pillars. A rectangular moat bordered each wall, the luminescent microbes that dwelled within its water bathing the room in soothing bluish light. Obigo took his position in the center of the patterned floor and laid his staff across his lap.
Drowning out the world around him the sage began to once again chant a prayer that would release his spirit from his body. Although it would not be easy to return to the realm of the Transcendents, he would try, no matter how long it took.
To Obigo's surprise the gate once again opened quite easily. He ushered a prayer of thanks as he once again crossed the barrier to the outer realm.
The composed sage's jaw dropped at the sight that greeted him. Instead of the infinite expanse of twilight and the monolithic Cosmic Clock, he was instead greeted by a lush, green jungle. Dumbfounded, Obigo took in the spectacle around him. None of the plants were familiar to him, much like the strange creatures that he glimpsed in the branches and underbrush that surrounded him.
"Hello," came a voice from behind him as he stood marveling at the alien environment when he heard a voice behind him.
Obigo spun quickly to see an elderly man dressed in some sort of wrap or tunic sitting upon a log. With a finger of his right hand, the man supported a tiny creature which Obigo somehow knew without being told was called a dragonfly.
"Hello," Obigo said hesitantly. "I am sorry. I was trying to go somewhere but I seem to have come here instead."
"That is the way of it," Old Man laughed. "We choose one path but find ourselves on another. Perhaps, I can help you."
Obigo considered this for a moment. Although he was not where he had intended to go, such odd meetings in the world beyond were not uncommon, even for one as experienced as himself. Fate it seemed had sense of humor. With that thought, a realization came upon him. Perhaps this meeting was not by chance. Perhaps this was Fate-Weaver's answer to his cry for help.
"I am looking for a star. It must deliver a message to it," Obigo answered Old Man. "It is a very special star. A star of hope."
"Hm," Old Man considered as he watched the dragonfly clean its head. As he pondered, the sun seemed to set rapidly, the sky above the trees fading to from gold to bluish-grey and finally to nocturnal black. The forest around them seemed to withdraw silently into the ground until only the stump upon which Old Man sat remained. The wide open expanse of stars was visible in every direction. Obigo took all this in stride.
"Perhaps my little friend can help you," Old Man said, paying no heed to the sudden change in light. The dragonfly lifted off from the shaman's fingers and hovered in the air above him. In the starlight it seemed to glow the same silver as Fate-Weaver's threads.
"I'm afraid that you may have quite a journey ahead of you," Old Man commented. "But if your star is out there, he will find it."
"Thank you," Obigo said as he bowed to the shaman. He had a strange since that he had met a kindred spirit in the stranger. "I wish there was something I could do to repay you."
"I have a friend in great need of hope. Perhaps your star can give it to him," Old Man answered slyly.
"Perhaps," Obigo smiled as the dragonfly lifted off into the night sky. He felt the ground fall away beneath his feet as he willed himself to follow the silver insect. As he ascended, he looked down one last time to say goodbye to the mysterious stranger but both the man and his perch were already gone, leaving only the ground below and the sea of stars above.