View source for Flying Dreams (short story)

{{creative-work
|title = Flying Dreams
|type = short story
|author =  Yukito
|author-displayed = [[Yukito (prime)|Yukito]]
|date = 2022-01-12
}}

Yukito's pen idly scratched on the piece of paper on the table. Dark green blotches appeared to bleed into each other beneath the light stroke of his quill, until the silver nib ran dry. He absently watched his fluffy swan plume bob and flutter in front of his nose, before setting it down.


What did anything anyone do even mean, anyway? It seemed that no matter how hard he tried to understand, nothing in the world made sense. There were hardly ever any definitive answers to be found. He hadn't even been alive half a century yet, and it seemed as if he would go mad from wanting things to be clear and easy to understand. How could humans take the ambiguity, knowing how very limited their time was? Every time a person figured out a tiny piece of the puzzle of life, or thought they did, they discovered more blank spaces to fill, or even a need to rearrange the pieces that had imperfectly jammed together. Maddening!


Yukito closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his forehead. He allowed his breathing to slow, and attempted to calm his mind. Eventually, after silently drifting along in his own thoughts, he plucked one from the air and focused on it.


Intent. That is what was bothering him. Ugh, Callid again.


It confused him, how Callid had lowered the barrier with what seemed to be a simple heartfelt confession and plea. The same bewilderment had swamped him when Malluch Burdos had healed a supplicant in front of a crowd. He didn't think Malluch had healed that person at all, but he had a different notion regarding this particular incident.


How had the barrier crumbled, and why? What would the connection have been between Callid's words, and its collapse? His will, alone? Had he been that desperate to keep his work secret and protected? Was either completing the work, or letting go of his obsession what made the barrier vanish? What had that barrier made of?


Yukito settled in his chair and folded his arms, gazing at the ceiling. He set his quill beneath his nose and pursed his lips to balance it, giving himself a bushy white feather mustache.


''"Perhaps I'm thinking of this a bit wrong. Perhaps I really should focus on the intent part of it. If Callid had enough will to make a barrier that would protect his interests until his objectives were complete.. then he briefly enacted his will on the area. Or someone did it for him, with specific conditions. It sounds crazy to even say, but I suppose I could liken it to a sanctuary. If he did it himself, he enacted his will on the area. If someone else did it for him, he used their power to do it. If everything I've been thinking about magic is true, anyway."''


He bit his lip hard, causing the quill to tumble to the floor.


''"If I'm close to correct, can a person feed their own power based on an obsession with an ideal alone? Or did someone do that for him, perhaps Vlashandra, and he released the accumulated energy? The latter would make more sense, honestly. She would shape it, he would power it by using it. Matter of fact, that's how she managed to get people in Landing to revive Barnom. Does Vlashandra focus her attention on people that have strong, obsessive feelings so that she can shape events?"''


Again, he didn't know. Yukito stood up and grabbed his worry stone necklace, giving it a quick twist with his fingers. Within moments, he was lightly running through the streets of Mist Harbor. Eventually, he came on the quiet bower filled with birdsong and stared at the smoothly carved features of Jaston from where the statue rose from the heart of the sculpted tree. He and Daevian had come here to contemplate as they placed gems on this altar; watching them vanish in blazes of azure light had been illuminating in more ways than one.


''"Observing what has happened and thinking about it, blaming the Arkati for their lack of involvement in our lives isn't exactly fair, now is it? We don't necessarily need to worship them, but we should still need to work together. For better or for worse, they shape this world we live in, and it may be likely that we power their intent. We must strengthen the domains of the Arkati and Spirits that will help us live in harmony."''


Yukito pressed his fingertips to his lips, then lifted his hand to touch the cool fingers of the statue. He couldn't find it in himself to dedicate to any one of these powerful beings, but he could understand why they were drawn to each other.


Exhaling very softly, barely speaking at all, Yukito haltingly called Jaston's name.


Tephra's broken face flashed in his mind's eye, and he gave his head a quick shake. Soon, they would be performing a ceremony to attempt to draw Jaston's attention. He, Meliyara, and Daevian had been trying to study the shrines and find answers, while everyone else was doing what they could to hold the enemy back and figure out how to defend.


Yukito's stomach suddenly churned with bile. He held back tears as he turned from the sheltered bower, making his way toward the street. Swiftly, he was enveloped in fog and vanished from sight. It didn't really matter if their prayer was answered. They would keep fighting and moving forward as they always had. It would just be harder, is all.


He was getting weary of chasing dreams.


"Flying Dreams" - Kenny Loggins