086 - Resonance

What do I know of Kujata?

Knowledge . . knowing . . information about the world, the universe - Magnus had cursed his ignorance and here it was; all the learnings and experience of several lives at his fingertips.

But . . what about Kujata? What do I really know of her? Her plan - it's bleeding obvious, right? Her notebook, the brass bell, and telescope - she'd been watching the Alchemists, keeping track of their movements and the positions of the Celestials kept captive in their interstellar prison. Her plan? Pretty damn obvious - to free them!

But . . why had she not acted already? Surely she must have discovered gaps in their patrols - the Alchemists weren't exactly diligent, there were gaps in their defences - Pontius’ memories made that clear enough. Furthermore, none of them had been expecting a Celestial to be hiding on one of their formation worlds, there was no proper defence against a Celestial so close to the prison . . so, what was she still waiting for?

The woods-for-trees formation, the doppelganger technique, the separated candle - these were ancient techniques, lost magics. Neither the Alchemists, the Seers, or the Martial Courts were able to use such a technique - they had been lost for thousands of years - a Celestial has a life span that can be measured in millennia - just how old is she? The ancient techniques were powerful, sure, but . .

Ah hells . . . the woods-for-trees formation hadn't been able to prevent the Seers finding them in the Ether - hadn't kept either of them from the prying eyes of the Alchemists. As for the candle . . no one used such an archaic method of communication anymore! No one had for generations! So, not only ancient techniques, but outdated!

Her techniques couldn't prevent the Seers or Martial Courts from finding them, especially if they utilized a Seer song like the Goddess. Magnus went through the most recent memories once more, reliving the hunt in the Ether from all perspectives, except Dong-Geun of course. Ah-ha! The force that kept the life forms hidden and dissolved anchor and marking glyphs - was that Kujata?

No . . no . . if it was, she would have known about the incoming hunting party before they broke into the local Ether-space, she would have reacted well before she did, set up defences well before then . . Kujata's face when Pontius broke through was one of genuine surprise; no way she had known before then.

Someone else? Something else? Another unknown entity, someone hindering the Alchemists from the shadows? Someone who wants to help a Celestial?

The candle stump, the formation . . it would be the work of a moment to dive back into the Ether. Magnus felt it - a bizarre thing outside the understanding of any he'd devoured . . the forest; an impossibility, a paradox. In the Ether all was illusion, nothing could be real; but the forest is real. Through the Ether all living things are connected, except for his forest.

The Celestials had totems - this was something very well documented and studied, something understood; ethereal constructs, places the Celestials had within themselves and in the Ether . . different, not like this at all - the Celestial totem was still a place of illusion, a place in the Ether that was a part of it, not something entirely . . . else.

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A living thing - a little living world - Magnus could feel it even now, even from outside the Ether. All he had to do was close his eyes and see. The forest, exactly as he had left it, the bodies and blood mixing with the earth, feeding into the roots - becoming part of the forest.

There he was, panting, running, stumbling over roots - Dong-Geun, the proud Martial Prince. Barely able to stand, his leg crippled, still he stumbled on and on, trying to find his way out of the mist and trees, finding himself in the same clearing time and again.

The forest . . the sleeping forest . . the nature of the Ether - all is illusion, all is a dream - we are connected all, all living things, through the same dream. Whose dream? A dream of the universe . . no . . no, that's the wrong way to look at it . . not a dream?

What is the Ether? Where did it come from? Even the accumulated knowledge of Pontius, an expert on matters pertaining to the Ether was surprisingly lacking when it came to the origins of the Ether. Only theories and conjecture, nothing verifiable, nothing that could help Magnus understand the forest he'd created. Only one thing seemed for sure; it was nothing like a Celestial - nothing like what a Celestials totem ought to be.

And . . and there was that.

The figure in red . . the gigantic tree . . the silver fish swimming high in its branches . .

Above as below . . above as below, one hand pointing up, the other pointing down . . the words written before of the lake of blood . . the golden light . . it was a poem? Three stanzas - Domitia had studied poetry and literature, Baqir and Zaynab, all Mithraic Seers had a good grasp of songs and poems. The song they used to summon the Goddess was part of a poetic edda written many hundreds of years before by the great Seer Garumond.

But . . the words written on the shore of the blood lake in the roots of the giant tree - they were nonsense - the only thing Magnus got from them was a vague idea of a deeper meaning . .

ssuuuuUUuuuuUUuu . . .

As Magnus sat and contemplated a deep rumble, starting low - like a whisper within his belly, slowly spread - the once white core in the pit of his belly had, unknown to Magnus, taken a golden sheen, growing from a tiny seed like thing to the size of a peach stone. Just like a solid gold pearl. Around the golden core there was a ghostly shell, almost entirely invisible - thousands of tiny fibrous strands of red-gold threads, each far finer and far smaller than any hair.

Around the core were wisps of coloured light - yellow, blue, white, and red - every colour of the Logos except for green.

Slow, the rumble grew . .

SSSSUUUuuuuuUUUUUuuuuuuUUU . .

Inside him now Magnus felt it - a deep pressure bubbling up, the skin of his belly bulging out and becoming unnaturally taut - like a balloon fit to burst - this came with a sharp pain, Magnus leaned forward and groaned calling out -

Hob! Hob . . help! What do I do? What's happening to me?

It hurts that much? Don't worry, you just have to let it out.

Let it out? How? Oh ye gods . . it hurts! Quick, tell me how!

Uh . .well . . hmm . . you know . .

Oh gods!

PPPHHHHRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPP!

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