Chapter 10 -
10/22/2017
The kernels smashed against one another. They seemed to have grown in quantity. There was a growling sound from the bottom of the river, deep and muffled.
I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. The air temperature had spiked so high that I felt the heat wheedle strings of sweat out of my pores.
“What’s wrong?” Bulkee asked without breaking from paddling.
I wanted to look upbeat, as I raised my hand to give a wave. But my stomach wrenched, I was overcome with a sudden weakness and I almost slumped off the Bionic Raft.
“Why don’t you take a few more bites. It will give you energy.” Bulkee nodded at the kernels. “You eat and I will get us out of here.”
I didn’t bother explaining to him that I was weak from exhaustion instead of hunger. I decided that it was easier if I just went along.
The kernels were hot in my hands. I blew air to cool them and buried my face into my palms. I slurped, chewed, and gulped, despite feeling stuffed from the earlier feast at the Lethans.
The kernels had gone hard, their texture rough. The sweetness was to a sickening point and ingestion was difficult. But I forced myself to keep up with the swallowing, because I wanted everything to be okay. I was so close to losing hope that I couldn’t stop this madness.
All of a sudden, the compulsion subsided. The waves ceased moving and froze into bumpy tiles, leaving us motionless atop the mire.
“You did it!” I was both awed and relieved. But my chest dropped, the moment I saw Bulkee lift a finger.
He blinked fast, as if he was trying to detect something in the air. I managed to concentrate and follow the direction of his glances.
Again, everything seemed tranquil but not exactly peaceful. The strange quietness gave way to a silenced warning.
There! I heard the muffled grunt once more. First it was distant and faint like the purring of a kitten from the bottom of the mire. But the noises grew both in volume and frequency, beginning to resemble a series of labored coughs veiled by a damp cloth.
My stomach tightened when my gaze shifted to the kernels. They were cleaved together like pellets. A beat later, they began palpitating, their hulls cracking open. The kernels had turned into small pockets of explosives.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
“They are popcorns!” I called out, my voice quickly lost in the micro explosions.
It was happened everywhere. I sat in frozen terror as I watched the mire congeal into a pool of white paste. It was boiling with air bubbles, as it spat out popcorns through waves of heat.
Adding to the chaos, the Bionic Raft began to flicker like a candle wick teased by the wind. It was barely there, disappearing and reappearing in a flash.
I was overwhelmed by the loss of control. One moment I was cradled by the Raft and the next moment I was just sitting on the TimeBook rocking through the upsurge.
I could barely move my body, when I shouted over the firecracker noises. “Bulkee. What’s going on?”
It didn’t help when he turned to look at me. He was drenched, his body glistening in pearls of sweat.
“The MindShape. It’s not holding up,” he told me.
“Why wouldn’t it—” A loud bang cut me off.
My stomach clenched, when I saw a wave of popcorns charge at us, hitting the front of the Bionic Raft. I heard a moan of frustration from Bulkee and felt the Raft vanish. After that, we were airborne.
The TimeBook snapped open to catch wind like an unsteady kite. I lost my balance, however, my arms scrapping along the leather, as I scrambled for support.
Nothing would hold and I was about to tumble over the edge. Panic settled over me, when I felt a hand grip to my ankle. I turned to find Bulkee, his other hand looped around the rim of the TimeBook.
I realized that he was trying to bring me up, when he kept yanking on my leg. The thrust caused the TimeBook to jolt and fling me to the top. But the force had felt like a blow to my spine and I doubled over in pain.
Inadvertently my hip rammed into Bulkee and he stumbled on impact. I reached for him, but only to catch a glimpse of him falling off the TimeBook. “Bulkee!” I screamed, blood drained from my head.
“A true Seeker shall meet his end without losing his mission,” he burst out loud, his voice trailing away.
I was horrified. I knew that he couldn’t fly, not if he was in this Pocket. I couldn’t bear the idea of him smashing into the exploding mire of popcorns. Had I just pushed him off? Was he going to die? Gosh. Please save him!
My heart tightened like it was squeezing my chest, when a strange sight shot into view. I squinted to see a dark blur right beneath the falling figure of Bulkee. I thought of it as a stretched shadow at first. I couldn’t register what was happening, when in a flash Bulkee came back to me.
Even more confusing was that I was moving upward with Bulkee and the TimeBook. I was dazed, as I felt something soft and feathery. I glimpsed down to find myself pressed up against the back of a bird-like creature.
I recoiled immediately, drawing a sharp intake of breath. I glanced over to see the stunned expression on Bulkee’s face. Even for a stupefied version, I was grateful to have him back.
But I couldn’t be sure how to react, when I studied the beast that was our ride. The black feathers offered a golden gleam, as my eyes traced along the wide wing bars.
A sense of familiarity ran through my body, when my gaze landed on the reddish crest atop its head. I was surprised by my sudden impulse to stroke the feathers of the spike.
I decided to let the urge pass instead of being brash. We were cruising low now, barely above the mire. The popcorns had assembled into much larger ones, giving the stiffened edges a look of cement.
The once churning current had turned into a field of sizzling white boulders. Steams from the popcorn conglomerates strewed all over the place, fogging up the view. Through the layers of white smog, I could hear the untamed growls
Bulkee straightened next to me. “I am the protector of the honorably reproductive AkxieMoreRun Forest. I’m also the AohhoA Seeker of the Enlightened,” he added. “Call me Bulkee, please.”
In an acknowledgment, the giant bird tilted its head slightly to the right. I caught a glimpse of a golden beak and the face of a brown falcon.
“How should we address someone with such lightning speed and knightly temperament as yourself, sir?” Bulkee asked.
The field below us erupted before we heard the falcon’s reply. A large slab of popcorn blasted toward the tip of his wing.
I tightened my grip as the falcon span sideways, avoiding the collision by a mere inch. My temple pulsed like drum rolls of a marching band, when the eruption began sending up a rain of boulders. I broke into a cold sweat despite the heat.
“Hold on tight now,” were the first words from the falcon, his voice deep and firm. Almost without hesitation I clamped my arms around his neck, securing the TimeBook under my chest.
The falcon rotated his body all the way to the right, making us perpendicular to the puddle below. I buried my face into his plumage, when he raised his wing bar to provide us greater support. He circled around the field, flying through the shooting rocks. After a few loops, he had gained momentum.
All my ringlets were pulled to the ground, when we went straight up like a speeding arrow. I squinted against the belting wind, as we headed into the sky, escaping the blasting field of the sweltering popcorn.
I was trembling. My heart was racing like it could leap out of my throat. I was so on edge that I had to started counting as a way to calm myself down.
About thirty counts later, I felt the air cool off around us. The falcon brought his body parallel to the ground. I sat up, as we slowed for landing.
“Impressive,” Bulkee said, catching his breath, “The speed, the determination, and of course, the precision.”
The falcon nodded in response. Leaning sideways he let us glide off his wings. Once disembarked, I noticed surrounding hills that bore no plants. The knolls were covered in small clear pebbles that emitted an intense shine.
“Ori,” I heard the falcon say. Puzzled, I turned to look at him, catching the streaks of the golden light off his feather. “You can call me ‘Ori’,” he said, holding my gaze.
“Sasha,” I told him my name. I didn’t know if I should thank him for the rescue, because I couldn’t be sure that he meant no harm.
What I wanted was to ask how he had spotted us amidst the explosion.
Was he the one whose glare I felt?
Had he been watching us?
Or spying on us?
But something in his expression put a stop to my suspicion. His eyes were an ocean of pigments, with sharp and soft colors blending together. He looked as though he could pierce through darkness to penetrate clouded minds. He carried the air of someone who could seize presence by merely casting a glance.
As powerful as they appeared, his eyes were gentle and the way they lingered around my face reminded me of someone who used to visit me in my dreams.
I knew how ridiculous it sounded. But having dreams with a recurring theme was a childhood experience that was all too familiar.
I had different ones, dreams and nightmares. The latter was likely another reason for my parents’ apologetic manner toward me. After being awoken in the middle of the night, they would rush to me hoping to whisper words of comfort, but only to lose their voices to my wailing. I would be a wreck by the time they reached my bedside. I would be drenched in sweat, my head reeling, my heart thumping fast. I would lose to an uncontrollable shudder, while screaming for images of the nightmares to stop flashing through my head.
The best dreams had started shortly after I turned five. They had always been simple, mostly of me flying through clouds and swerving in floating feathers.
The dreams evolved over time and they became more vivid, after I reached adolescence. A young man with feather-like locks entered into my dreams. Most of his features were obscured from my view. But I felt his gaze warm and free of impurities. I decided to call my visitor Oneiroi, after I learned in school of the term referring to the spirits of dreams in Greek mythology.
The scene with Oneiroi typically began on an open pasture that slowly narrowed into a lake covered in leaves and flowed upstream. My spirits of dreams would guide me onto the foliage and we would hike up the currents to a tree that drifted on water. The two of us would stand in shades, as leaves rained down from the branches We would be swept by a tingling sensation, when the leaves turned into feathers and tickled us into irresistible laughter.
When Oneirioi regarded me, I always felt captivated by his kaleidoscope irises. As colorful as they were, his eyes seemed to capture the pureness of his thoughts. I remembered being embraced in the tenderness of his gaze. It was exactly this tenderness that I recognized in the falcon who rescued us.
“Stay close to me,” Ori said, bringing my focus back to him.
I decided that the wicked stare couldn't have been him, as I studied him through my lashes. I noticed that he had kept his wing bars fully extended, like he was shielding us from something. He lifted his golden beak and skimmed the area with bullet-like glances.
“You are safer now,” he said.
The gravity in his expression, however, made me uneasy. Safe from what? I suddenly recognized that he wasn’t referring to the popcorn explosion. The imminent danger was something else, something far destructive than what we just witnessed.
I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. The air temperature had spiked so high that I felt the heat wheedle strings of sweat out of my pores.
“What’s wrong?” Bulkee asked without breaking from paddling.
I wanted to look upbeat, as I raised my hand to give a wave. But my stomach wrenched, I was overcome with a sudden weakness and I almost slumped off the Bionic Raft.
“Why don’t you take a few more bites. It will give you energy.” Bulkee nodded at the kernels. “You eat and I will get us out of here.”
I didn’t bother explaining to him that I was weak from exhaustion instead of hunger. I decided that it was easier if I just went along.
The kernels were hot in my hands. I blew air to cool them and buried my face into my palms. I slurped, chewed, and gulped, despite feeling stuffed from the earlier feast at the Lethans.
The kernels had gone hard, their texture rough. The sweetness was to a sickening point and ingestion was difficult. But I forced myself to keep up with the swallowing, because I wanted everything to be okay. I was so close to losing hope that I couldn’t stop this madness.
All of a sudden, the compulsion subsided. The waves ceased moving and froze into bumpy tiles, leaving us motionless atop the mire.
“You did it!” I was both awed and relieved. But my chest dropped, the moment I saw Bulkee lift a finger.
He blinked fast, as if he was trying to detect something in the air. I managed to concentrate and follow the direction of his glances.
Again, everything seemed tranquil but not exactly peaceful. The strange quietness gave way to a silenced warning.
There! I heard the muffled grunt once more. First it was distant and faint like the purring of a kitten from the bottom of the mire. But the noises grew both in volume and frequency, beginning to resemble a series of labored coughs veiled by a damp cloth.
My stomach tightened when my gaze shifted to the kernels. They were cleaved together like pellets. A beat later, they began palpitating, their hulls cracking open. The kernels had turned into small pockets of explosives.
Pop.
Pop.
Pop.
“They are popcorns!” I called out, my voice quickly lost in the micro explosions.
It was happened everywhere. I sat in frozen terror as I watched the mire congeal into a pool of white paste. It was boiling with air bubbles, as it spat out popcorns through waves of heat.
Adding to the chaos, the Bionic Raft began to flicker like a candle wick teased by the wind. It was barely there, disappearing and reappearing in a flash.
I was overwhelmed by the loss of control. One moment I was cradled by the Raft and the next moment I was just sitting on the TimeBook rocking through the upsurge.
I could barely move my body, when I shouted over the firecracker noises. “Bulkee. What’s going on?”
It didn’t help when he turned to look at me. He was drenched, his body glistening in pearls of sweat.
“The MindShape. It’s not holding up,” he told me.
“Why wouldn’t it—” A loud bang cut me off.
My stomach clenched, when I saw a wave of popcorns charge at us, hitting the front of the Bionic Raft. I heard a moan of frustration from Bulkee and felt the Raft vanish. After that, we were airborne.
The TimeBook snapped open to catch wind like an unsteady kite. I lost my balance, however, my arms scrapping along the leather, as I scrambled for support.
Nothing would hold and I was about to tumble over the edge. Panic settled over me, when I felt a hand grip to my ankle. I turned to find Bulkee, his other hand looped around the rim of the TimeBook.
I realized that he was trying to bring me up, when he kept yanking on my leg. The thrust caused the TimeBook to jolt and fling me to the top. But the force had felt like a blow to my spine and I doubled over in pain.
Inadvertently my hip rammed into Bulkee and he stumbled on impact. I reached for him, but only to catch a glimpse of him falling off the TimeBook. “Bulkee!” I screamed, blood drained from my head.
“A true Seeker shall meet his end without losing his mission,” he burst out loud, his voice trailing away.
I was horrified. I knew that he couldn’t fly, not if he was in this Pocket. I couldn’t bear the idea of him smashing into the exploding mire of popcorns. Had I just pushed him off? Was he going to die? Gosh. Please save him!
My heart tightened like it was squeezing my chest, when a strange sight shot into view. I squinted to see a dark blur right beneath the falling figure of Bulkee. I thought of it as a stretched shadow at first. I couldn’t register what was happening, when in a flash Bulkee came back to me.
Even more confusing was that I was moving upward with Bulkee and the TimeBook. I was dazed, as I felt something soft and feathery. I glimpsed down to find myself pressed up against the back of a bird-like creature.
I recoiled immediately, drawing a sharp intake of breath. I glanced over to see the stunned expression on Bulkee’s face. Even for a stupefied version, I was grateful to have him back.
But I couldn’t be sure how to react, when I studied the beast that was our ride. The black feathers offered a golden gleam, as my eyes traced along the wide wing bars.
A sense of familiarity ran through my body, when my gaze landed on the reddish crest atop its head. I was surprised by my sudden impulse to stroke the feathers of the spike.
I decided to let the urge pass instead of being brash. We were cruising low now, barely above the mire. The popcorns had assembled into much larger ones, giving the stiffened edges a look of cement.
The once churning current had turned into a field of sizzling white boulders. Steams from the popcorn conglomerates strewed all over the place, fogging up the view. Through the layers of white smog, I could hear the untamed growls
Bulkee straightened next to me. “I am the protector of the honorably reproductive AkxieMoreRun Forest. I’m also the AohhoA Seeker of the Enlightened,” he added. “Call me Bulkee, please.”
In an acknowledgment, the giant bird tilted its head slightly to the right. I caught a glimpse of a golden beak and the face of a brown falcon.
“How should we address someone with such lightning speed and knightly temperament as yourself, sir?” Bulkee asked.
The field below us erupted before we heard the falcon’s reply. A large slab of popcorn blasted toward the tip of his wing.
I tightened my grip as the falcon span sideways, avoiding the collision by a mere inch. My temple pulsed like drum rolls of a marching band, when the eruption began sending up a rain of boulders. I broke into a cold sweat despite the heat.
“Hold on tight now,” were the first words from the falcon, his voice deep and firm. Almost without hesitation I clamped my arms around his neck, securing the TimeBook under my chest.
The falcon rotated his body all the way to the right, making us perpendicular to the puddle below. I buried my face into his plumage, when he raised his wing bar to provide us greater support. He circled around the field, flying through the shooting rocks. After a few loops, he had gained momentum.
All my ringlets were pulled to the ground, when we went straight up like a speeding arrow. I squinted against the belting wind, as we headed into the sky, escaping the blasting field of the sweltering popcorn.
I was trembling. My heart was racing like it could leap out of my throat. I was so on edge that I had to started counting as a way to calm myself down.
About thirty counts later, I felt the air cool off around us. The falcon brought his body parallel to the ground. I sat up, as we slowed for landing.
“Impressive,” Bulkee said, catching his breath, “The speed, the determination, and of course, the precision.”
The falcon nodded in response. Leaning sideways he let us glide off his wings. Once disembarked, I noticed surrounding hills that bore no plants. The knolls were covered in small clear pebbles that emitted an intense shine.
“Ori,” I heard the falcon say. Puzzled, I turned to look at him, catching the streaks of the golden light off his feather. “You can call me ‘Ori’,” he said, holding my gaze.
“Sasha,” I told him my name. I didn’t know if I should thank him for the rescue, because I couldn’t be sure that he meant no harm.
What I wanted was to ask how he had spotted us amidst the explosion.
Was he the one whose glare I felt?
Had he been watching us?
Or spying on us?
But something in his expression put a stop to my suspicion. His eyes were an ocean of pigments, with sharp and soft colors blending together. He looked as though he could pierce through darkness to penetrate clouded minds. He carried the air of someone who could seize presence by merely casting a glance.
As powerful as they appeared, his eyes were gentle and the way they lingered around my face reminded me of someone who used to visit me in my dreams.
I knew how ridiculous it sounded. But having dreams with a recurring theme was a childhood experience that was all too familiar.
I had different ones, dreams and nightmares. The latter was likely another reason for my parents’ apologetic manner toward me. After being awoken in the middle of the night, they would rush to me hoping to whisper words of comfort, but only to lose their voices to my wailing. I would be a wreck by the time they reached my bedside. I would be drenched in sweat, my head reeling, my heart thumping fast. I would lose to an uncontrollable shudder, while screaming for images of the nightmares to stop flashing through my head.
The best dreams had started shortly after I turned five. They had always been simple, mostly of me flying through clouds and swerving in floating feathers.
The dreams evolved over time and they became more vivid, after I reached adolescence. A young man with feather-like locks entered into my dreams. Most of his features were obscured from my view. But I felt his gaze warm and free of impurities. I decided to call my visitor Oneiroi, after I learned in school of the term referring to the spirits of dreams in Greek mythology.
The scene with Oneiroi typically began on an open pasture that slowly narrowed into a lake covered in leaves and flowed upstream. My spirits of dreams would guide me onto the foliage and we would hike up the currents to a tree that drifted on water. The two of us would stand in shades, as leaves rained down from the branches We would be swept by a tingling sensation, when the leaves turned into feathers and tickled us into irresistible laughter.
When Oneirioi regarded me, I always felt captivated by his kaleidoscope irises. As colorful as they were, his eyes seemed to capture the pureness of his thoughts. I remembered being embraced in the tenderness of his gaze. It was exactly this tenderness that I recognized in the falcon who rescued us.
“Stay close to me,” Ori said, bringing my focus back to him.
I decided that the wicked stare couldn't have been him, as I studied him through my lashes. I noticed that he had kept his wing bars fully extended, like he was shielding us from something. He lifted his golden beak and skimmed the area with bullet-like glances.
“You are safer now,” he said.
The gravity in his expression, however, made me uneasy. Safe from what? I suddenly recognized that he wasn’t referring to the popcorn explosion. The imminent danger was something else, something far destructive than what we just witnessed.
