I woke behind bars, in a cage, that most horrifying and deep seated of my people’s fears. For some, it is the long plummet, that endless uncontrolled fall from unknowable heights, but no, it is the cage that haunts my nightmares.

Panic nearly overwhelmed my control as instinct surged against captivity. Slowly I began my basic exercises, stilling my mind, finding my inner mill pond and dabbling in it. As my breathing practices took hold, linking me to the sacred breath of the world something felt off.

I knew I was in my garden at home, lost in prolonged meditation. This must be some new revelation from the divine River, from whence and on which all life flows. I had heard of complex allegorical visions like this from the elders, I never thought to experience one.

Gradually I began the familiar practice of cycling my qi through my channels and meridians. The long familiarity and warming tingle slowly spread down from my center. I guided it through my bowels and pelvis into my legs, they felt strong and steady.

Progressing to the next phase I began to route it up my spinal column flooding my head and heart with life affirming qi, now for my favorite part, slowly I let the blessings of the divine River flood its banks and spill into my wings… stretching forth with every plume and quill I caught the spirit of wind in my loving embrace and… nothing.

I opened my eyes to the illusion, willing myself to embrace whatever strange lesson the River had decided to set me upon.

“On the divine River only fools and salmon swim upstream.” I quoted. “From the book of Watercress; second formation, third dabble.” Only with the sacred Attribution, was the spell complete.

Local awareness flooded him, setting aside personhood and the simple perspective of a flesh and blood body. Everything was as it should be, save that everything was subtly wrong.

The god of Earth and his children were very strong here, too strong. While the spirits of the winds were strong, they would not answer his call and the goddess Sky seemed distant, his connection to her grace, attenuated and weak. Water was strong, but distant, her bubbling voice almost lost in Earth’s stoney rumblings. The spirits of water were scarcely to be found, only in narrow channels and paddy farms on the terraced mountain side.

That was not right. He should be in the estuary temple of the Waters! Confusion caused his control to weaken briefly, bringing him closer to his physical form. That was all wrong.

“Knowledge of the self is a reflection in still waters, true for a moment though we change as ripples inevitably replace stillness.” I whispered through that distant throat, manipulating it from afar. “From the book of Reeds: third formation, sixteenth dabble.”

The sutra of bodily awareness flooded him with information, and it was weird. Gone were his wings, the blessing of the goddess Sky, his flippers were gone as were his plumes and quills. My beak had been replaced with some hideous, moist, snuffling... thing. Returning to his new body was an effort, the strangeness of the form making things difficult.

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A nose?, no a muzzle. Wool draped this form, thick and warm, but bulkier than my plumage. Teeth were a novel idea, this tongue was no longer edged with serrated points, that was good, lips would not respond well to that! I felt My lips move, I smiled, like a human… sort of.

That was nice. I had always meant to ask a mammal how they avoided biting their tongues with those teeth. Now it was too late, as I learned the hard way that mammals do not always avoid that fate.

In frustration I stamped a hoof pad and spat a wad of chunky green goo at the far wall. That was not the quack of frustration I intended to release.

“Hello!” I called, no reply. Though the echo of my voice was odd indeed, a chattering purring hum sang out when I called, yet I understood perfectly.

I took some time to examine my surroundings. I was in a cage. Simple bars of iron were set into place in walls of dry fitted stone, but the blocks were massive and fit so well not a draught cut through.

Through the bars I saw a narrow chamber with benches along the back wall and a glass screen set between benches and bars. Some sort of viewing stands. I misliked that thought.

A door of iron bound beams blocked my exit, and another similar door was visible in the strange viewing room. I approached my door and no helpful human scurried forward to open it… that was awkward.

Perhaps I was equipped to manage this obstacle in this body that the River had deigned to wash me ashore in. I already missed the sweet wetland aromas of my home.

The door was closed with some sort of latch, I bumped it with my nose and the catch bobbled up and down easily. The latch was wide and rough, like a step or foot pedal… foot, I had four of those now…

I reached out and stamped the paddle with a foot and it made a satisfying clicking noise, but the portal did not budge. Locked, no matter, with a slow square breath and a softly whispered “The path of the River cannot be barred, only diverted at great cost. From the book of Shores and Banks: eighth formation second dabble.”

With a soft click the portal swung open.

###

In the temple yard, Sect Master Haveyou Anywool, keeper of the Silent Hoof Feltslipper style of ninjutsu, was practicing his forms.

“Knotted threads intangibLle, sLlip the eye of the needLle Llet the Woof and Warp be reveaLled” He murmured. “From the WooLlen Sutras: first skien, fifty seventh stitch.” He removed his body as he would remove his robe.

Joyfully naked, he reached his senses to the beautiful world around him and within. To be on the wheel and of the wheel, yet able to stand outside and glimpse a tiny fraction of the immensity of creation was a blessing.

Humbled and thankful he lifted his voiceless throat in song. Even a single, tiny strand could resonate with the wheel that spun the thick cables of life into the universe.

After a timeless moment beyond the bounds of mortal senses, he returned to his task. He must monitor the valley for signs of incursion by the forces of chaos.

As master of his sect, little could escape his gaze during these blessed periods of cosmic oneness attained through his diligent practi…-

“Master Master!” My current valet bleated in his wheedling tones. “A messenger has come!”

“ControLl your emotions, you wiLl sour your gut.” I cooed, using my position as herd leader to soothe him forcefully. “You wiLl reject your qi treatments and suppLlements if your gut needs cLleansing.”

He was a reasonable fellow, if too excitable. “What of this messenger my chiLld, Llead me to them.”

Llorenzo led me down the sacred terraces, where the humans toiled in their eternal gratitude. Cheerfully they paused in their never ending work to hail us, though we bore no banners nor sacred parasols.

I reared and chattered at them, so that they would have a story to tell their children. It pleased me to think that tonight they might cook their meal over a fire of my own pellets.

Thus does the Wheel turn, from higher to lower, then around again in perfect symmetry. Eternal and fixed, unchanging in its grace. “Ahh bLlessed are those for whom the WheeLl spins a simpLle thread!”

“Indeed Master.” Llorenzo Llamas intoned, his faith as strong as his humility was profound.

“Llead on, we must not tarry Llest these peopLle face periLl most dire. We must form and accord with the ALlpaca sect of Knitted Mystics Llest the vaLley be overrun.”