Naomi
Several Kilometers from the Nearest Known Dead Body, Feather-branch Forest, Savriâ
It was unfortunate that neither Naomi nor Jonah managed to direct their xp anywhere. Not surprising, but a bit disappointing. She wondered if the xp could fix her… Willow had told them all of the tests she’d done, and all of the tests she had yet to do, after they looted the jimble-grimb camp. The ideas she had about improving abstract parts of themselves was appealing, to say the least.
It was this thought that had driven her to immediately ask Willow to help her get started on her soul nexus as soon as they had camp setup. She hadn’t even eaten any of the rations the kobolds sent with them before asking. Now she was sitting in a comfortable pose on a log, her back sitting against the trunk of a feather-branch tree.
It had taken a bit to find somewhere decently comfortable, which had struck her as wasted time, but Willow insisted. One of the things Naomi had come to learn about her new friend was that while Willow was generally absolutely willing to listen to others; when she knew that she was the most knowledgeable about something, she didn’t bend even an inch. Knowing this, Naomi hadn’t argued after her initial grumbling about wasted time.
Now she was glad Willow had insisted. She thought sitting here for however many hours she’d been at it would be way worse otherwise and -
“When you feel your thoughts become unfocused, acknowledge them and let them drift away with your breath. Breathe in.”
Naomi realized her thoughts had wondered, again. She accepted the fact as Willow had instructed her each time she’d been distracted. Then she took a deep breath. She let it out as Willow directed, then fell into her own rhythm and found her mind drifting comfortably. She knew she was drifting in an endless emptiness of near thoughtlessness. Yet that knowledge didn’t disrupt the nothing in which she existed.
Breathe in.
She could go deeper, she was just on the outside of the depths this darkness promised.
Breathe out.
Every breath would let her fall into herself. She would find her core, she’d find a beautiful inner world like Willow’s dojo.
Breathe in.
It would be soft and gentle, warm and colorful and comforting. It’d be exciting. She would unlock the passion others had which she wanted to envy.
Out.
Just like in the stories, where the ice queen’s shell broke and she found her heart full of love and hope.
In.
She’d find her inner self, beautiful and splendid and strong. Trapped by the pall which had held her for so long. Nearly as long as she could remember.
Breathe.
Fall deeper. Find deepest self.
From a great distance a soft, but comforting voice drifted. The voice was confident and firm, but kind and gentle. It was a voice she trusted. The words held no meaning, but she enjoyed the sound. It brought soft colors to her vacuum, her nothing. Comfort and warmth to the endless cold. The voice continued, calm and unworried. It continued for a very long time.
Breathe.
Find self.
Fall.
Deeper.
There was nothing.
She was nothing.
She didn’t know how long she floated as nothing, but at some point she realized that she was a she. She realized she existed. And she’d forgotten why she was here. There’d been a purpose, hadn’t there? Soft tone, directions. Pulses of gentle light through the endlessness.
Yes. She’d been… Something. Someone? Warmth. Comfort. Directions. Colors.
Those feelings, those were something important. Right? Request. Directions. Emotion.
Feelings, feelings were bad. Dangerous. Yet… The sound was good, nice. Cajoling. Humming. Song.
She ‘looks’ toward the polite invader who brought with it foreign sensations. She hears the words then, “Good, Naomi. Good. Just let yourself be. Acknowledge yourself, your inner self.”
“This is weird.” She hears a voice that was… Her? “It feels like I’m in two places.”
“Good, perfect. That’s how I feel when I’m looking at my soul nexus.” The emptiness writhed, the soul nexus. She wanted that. That was why she was here. No… She’d always been here. Right?
Confusion briefly colored the darkness, before being consumed by it. She hears the voice that is her, “Everything is so dark.”
“Is dark good? Comforting?”
“It’s just dark.”
“Do you want it to be dark?”
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“…No.”
“Then make it light.”
Blinding brightness. For an instant, then it’s gone. Consumed. “It’s eaten. The darkness ate the light.”
“Why is it dark?”
“Because it’s always been dark. Light never lasts.”
“The sun rises every day, maybe a sun can rise within the darkness.” The voice isn’t demanding, or even questioning. It’s just speaking calmly. The words send more rippling color through the empty tapestry.
A ball of light slowly rises in the distance, like the sun rising in the horizon. As soon as it’s fully visible, the core turns black and the sun becomes nothing.
“The sun was eaten by the darkness.”
“What is the darkness?”
“I don’t know…” Her voice isn’t certain, because her voice is lying.
“What could it be?” The other voice is quieter, closer. It’s safe to tell the voice.
Red lightning cracks, the darkness is not illuminated. The lightning strikes the surface of the void and ripples spread throughout. They hurt. A warning. Her voice must not tell the voice. It will leave. She will stop hearing it.
“I can’t tell you.” Her voice is weak. Uncertain. Bad. Her voice must be strong. Certain. Her voice being weak causes other voices to leave. Then the emptiness goes back to having no color. No lightning.
“That’s fine, Naomi. As long as you know, I don’t need to know.” The voice doesn’t leave. It doesn’t sound angry.
“It’s bad, though.”
A storm of red lightning strikes everything, cascading, breaking, booming. With each strike pain is. But the pain is for only a moment. Then pain is not.
“Is it part of you?” The voice is still here. The lightning calms, stops. Thunder rolls. Warning. Telling the voice to be silent.
“Maybe. I don’t want it to be.”
The voice is silent. The red lightning returns. Fury. Storm. Rages. She is scared, but not. The lightning will pass. It will return again.
“Sometimes we don’t like parts of ourselves… That’s okay. Some things we can change. Some things we accept. Some things we accept so we can change.” The voice is as soft and gentle as it’s ever been.
The lightning freezes. The voice has not left. The lightning is gone.
She realizes something. She is thinking. She hasn’t thought before.
“If I accept it then it is really there…” Her voice is quiet, sad, scared. Colors pulse. Colors do not remain.
“That’s true. Is it?”
Colors. Not caused by the voice. Caused by her and by her voice. Colors caused by Naomi.
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Willow
Several Kilometers from the Nearest Known Dead Body, Feather-branch Forest, Savriâ
The guided meditation had gone pretty normally, at least until Naomi suddenly went limp. At first Willow had nearly panicked, but she managed to forcibly calm herself by channeling the emotion into her focus.
Instead of worrying she decided to treat Naomi like someone who had managed to fall deeply into their meditation. She’d never managed to get that deep herself. Coach joked that one couldn’t dive into a puddle, and someone as young as her could hardly be an ocean. Coach could be a jerk. Even if she herself hadn’t fallen deeply into her meditation she had seen a few people do so during group sessions. She did her best to emulate what the meditation instructor had done both of those times and remained calm, reassured Naomi, and kept a constant stream of reassuring noise going.
After several minutes of this, Naomi’s slack body seemed to stiffen ever so slightly and Willow probed softly, “Naomi, can you hear me? Do you know where you are”
Naomi answered in a monotone, “Yes. You’re far away. I am alone. It is dark.”
Excited that Naomi wasn’t comatose or something else horrible, Willow did her best to keep her voice calm, “Good, Naomi. Good. Just let yourself be. Acknowledge yourself, your inner self.”
She proceeded through the rest of the conversation carefully. She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. She just had a bunch of non-expert speculation. What she did know is that Naomi was definitely in a vulnerable place. She almost seemed hypnotized, answering questions directly with little to no emotion in her voice.
Willow did her best to avoid pressing Naomi to tell her anything she wouldn’t want to. Which, so far as Willow knew was pretty much anything. The woman had continued to avoid talking about herself and Willow had no intention of breaking her trust by extracting anything from her while she wasn’t in full control. Instead she just did her best to guide Naomi through the meditation. The place she was seemed to be representative of something important to Naomi, important in a bad way as far as she could tell. Not knowing more, Willow just did her best to give general vague advice. Channeling her inner life-guru.
In the end, Naomi broke down crying. She broke from the meditation and threw herself into Willow’s lap, weeping openly. It was honestly the most emotion Naomi had actually shown since they’d met. Most of her emotions seemed subdued, slight smiles, small laughs, weak glares. The one time Willow had heard Naomi cry, it had been very soft sobs - like she’d probably have at the very tail end of a good long hard bawl. A bawl that, apparently, Naomi needed as she soaked Willow’s absolutely disgustingly filthy jumpsuit in tears.
The only thing she could make out of the broken words Naomi tried to get through her fit was that she was worried Willow was going to leave her or be angry at her. Although she thought both thoughts were pretty ridiculous, given their circumstances would hardly let her just leave even if she wanted to, and who got angry at someone for needing a cry?
She just gently stroked Naomi’s hair and murmured gentle reassurances that she wasn’t going anywhere and that she wasn’t angry. Eventually, Naomi fell asleep with her head in Willow’s lap. Kent had been kind enough to get a fire going, as the sun had slowly set as she walked Naomi through her first meditation session. He’d noticed the entire scene, of course. He had shot her a questioning look and receiving a slight head shake from Willow in response. After that, he’d stayed quiet and kept his distance except to get the fire going.
As the fire danced across Naomi’s face, Willow studied her. There was something about the dancing shadows cast by a campfire that drew her attention. Naomi had a generally pale pallor, though it tended toward ruddy at times; splotchy redness coloring her cheeks and arms as they walked.
Now, peaceful under the firelight her skin looked like soft porcelain. When open, her eyes were a brown so dark they looked black, except when light hit them and they shone like amber. The tip of her the thin bridge of her nose turned ever so slightly upward at its wide tip, overhanging somewhat thin lips which bowed downward in naturally into something approaching a frown. Her jaw and chin were both wide, with some baby fat still evident in her cheeks.
Naomi’s body was thin, almost to an unhealthy extent. From what the orientation had taught her, Willow knew that the body they arrived in was their ‘theoretical absolute peak’ from their time in the tutorial. What this meant was that the best possible health scenario for Naomi was just above skin and bone.
Despite that, Willow saw a lot of strength in her. She walked just as far as she and Kent did and never complained, she even led. She knew a lot, and although it had been painfully obvious when they first arrived she wasn’t comfortable talking to strangers, she’d forced herself to speak up and share. Willow got the impression that Naomi didn’t think much of herself, especially given some of the things she’d heard her muttering and mumbling as she drifted to sleep. It seemed that, like Kent, Naomi underestimated herself a lot.
She looked up where she saw Kent with his eyes closed across the fire. He was clearly working on his own meditation and working toward creating his own soul nexus. Kent thought he was uninteresting, and Naomi thought she was useless.
She smiled. What they both really were, was blind. That was fine though, Willow would figure out what needed to be done to get them each a pair of glasses.