Under a Starless Sky

Chapter 27

Shen learned to walk in the night without clicking, using just the orb, unlit in his hand. If he focused on

the orb, he could light it up, bright enough it illuminated his hand. It never became too hot to hold.

Holding it made skies blue even at night. The blue light was not like blue skies, though, but was more

like sustained lightening. He became aware of ghost in the forest. Some challenged him and

disappeared. Some flirted with him, drawing him further into the forest. Inevitably the ghost led him to

or away from particular trees. They were Awakened Sleeping Trees, but the ghosts were not tree

tulpas. He suspected the Trees were simply host to the ghosts, not actually Tree consciousness

personified. Touching the tree led him into the inner life of the tree. Each tree would open up to him

revealing a hidden oasis, a world beyond the wardrobe. Some of these hidden places were populated

only by animals. Some had people. On one occasion he approached a camp fire and was able to talk

to the people. He was invited to sit with them and eat. He recognized one of the girls as one of

participants in his first Sleeping tree ceremony.

“I remember you. You…”

“I didn’t want to go back,” she said. “That place is so hard. This place… Well, you see it for yourself.

Stay with us. You’re welcome here.”

Shen withdrew. He found another tree and engaged in a conversation, only it wasn’t a conversation. It

was like listening to a recording. He went deeper in and found himself witnessing an event that he

suspected was in a real place. Two teenagers, their hair the color of novices.

“I am carrying a gift,” one said. This information was conveyed with excitement.

Her friend frowned.

“What? I thought you’d be happy for me.”

“Does anyone know?”

“What?”

“Have you told anyone?” her friend demanded.

“I am telling you,” she said.

Her friend rummaged her bag and pulled out a pouch with flowers. “Eat this.”

“You want me to return the gift?” her friend asked, appalled.

“I have been gifted. My family knows,” the friend said. “Jie-Ann is gifted. Her master knows. We cannot

all be pregnant at the same time. They will break up our triad.”

“Then let them break it up,” the girl said. “I am going to bring this gift into the world.”

“If you love me, you will end it. I don’t want to lose you or Jie-Ann…”

Shen got out of it. More often than not, when he found himself in the ‘real world’ with people, there was

drama; he didn’t need tree drama, even if it was only a recreation of a past event. It reminded him of

Thai television, all soap opera like dramas, or talk shows with funny themes and dorky sound effects

stolen from out dated shows. He found himself talking to the trees in the forest. He crushed on a ghost

that would visit the open space near his cave. It was difficult not crushing on her. She was beautiful, but

also she flirted with him. Once he woke to her hovering over him. She was embarrassed and ran away.

The next time he saw her in the clearing he told her he was not harmed, and she could remain, but she

stayed at the periphery of the camp.

Entering the dreams of trees meant they could enter his. His dreams were as bizarre, populated by

people he had never met. He found himself in a myriad of situations and epochs acting out scenes with

people as if he had lived them. He met Oa’s human half. He learned a little bit about them, but it felt like

ghost stories, people living on the inner surface of a hollow Earth. On being Lucid in his dreams, he

tried talking to Oa, but rarely got a response. It was here, in a Lucid Dream, he reconnected with Loxy.

He didn’t care if it was the dream her or the real her through a psychic connection- he wanted to be

with her, and he did, and she solidified and embraced him. When he awoke, she was there with him.

Solid real. She had substance and a place in the solid world that was modeled in his head, but she was

not in the physical world.

“I have missed you,” Shen said.

“And I you,” Loxy said.

Navigating the real world, and the dream world of trees, became much easier and delightful with his

companion.

He was walking in the dark, without direct purpose, on the edges of the Sleeping Forest when he

became aware of an interloper. He was able to view her from outside her heart’s wall. He could draw

closer with vision, without drawing closer in body. He knew her. It was Candace. She was alone and

reciting a ritual prayer. She had chosen a tree, or a tree had chosen her, depending on the

interpretation of her prayer. She climbed the tree, arrived at the first suitable branch, and then walked

out further, holding onto other branches, testing, probing. He was interested.

“What are you doing?” he asked himself.

Loxy was suddenly beside him, in ghost form, watching with him. To him, the whole forest was alight

with the most amazing blue light, as if sky blue had flooded the underneath. He didn’t question if it was

reality or a dream. Loxy was in both worlds all the time now and so her presence didn’t draw him out;

he remained in witness mode.

“She’s searching for her talent,” Loxy said. “If she is successful, she will wake with a gift and a staff. If

she isn’t…”

“She’ll be dead,” Shen said.

Loxy nodded. “It is their way.”

Candace had decided on a branch. She tied three ropes to it, allowing the other ends to fall towards

ground. She turned to go back in towards the tree when the branch she was walking on broke. The

snapping of the branch resulted in a pulse, a visible light echoed out from the tree. The surrounding

trees echoed. The energy dissipated. She was asleep before she hit the ground, no chance to even

grab one of the ropes she had tied. No time to be scared. Shen thought it a good thing she was

unconscious because her leg was evidently broken; it was bent the wrong way.

Shen rushed her. Loxy guided him in a creating a splint, which he made using branches he cut free

from the fallen limb, and cutting lengths from her rope. When there was nothing more he could do for

the leg, he decided he needed to keep her warm. He wanted to make a fire, but didn’t want to leave her

in the dark while he searched for material.

“Jon-Shen, it’s time,” Loxy said.

“For what? You to arrive with the ship and beam us up?”

“Pull a stone out of your bag,” Loxy said.

“My magic doesn’t work here…” Shen said, reaching into his bag to prove to her and… His hand closed

on an object. He pulled out a rock.

Loxy smiled.

“One,” Loxy said.

Shen didn’t ponder it. He simply reached in and pulled out a number of perfectly shaped rocks and built

a fire pit. He even pulled out kindling, logs, and matches. He got the fire going, and nearly put the

matches back in the bag, but instead, put them in his pocket. Things in his bag had a tendency to

disappear. He pulled out two blankets. One was an emergency thermal blanket. Even as he covered

her, he was coveting it. The other blanket was a heavy blanket, quilt, which he rolled and placed under

her head. He then sat down between her and Loxy, who was visibly enjoying the fire.

“You feel it?”

“I feel what you feel,” Loxy said.

“Is Oa here?” Shen asked.

“She is aware of us,” Loxy said.

“You know what I really want?” Shen said.

“A pizza?”

“Yeah,” Shen said, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a bag of freshly cut carrots. “Damn it.”

Loxy laughed. “You’ll get there, grass hopper.” She sang a bit of the chorus, ‘you don’t always get what

you want.’

Shen tried again, and pulled out bottle of water. He mumbled something about not getting what he

wanted being the equivalent of ‘the Greatest American Hero’ struggling with flight after the first season.

It was old and was no longer funny, a situational gag that had lost its comedic value. Still, the water

was needed. It was glass, with a metal twist off lid. He gave a cap full to Candace, saying ‘here you go,

Meg,’ amusing himself as if he were Tom Hanks in ‘Joe Vrs the Voclano.’

“Do they all engage this ritual?” Shen asked.

Loxy looked up and to the right, retrieved the information, and nodded. “Yeah.” She was in communion

with trees. It came easier to her than Shen, probably because she already knew how to speak to his

core self. She had been maneuvering in his unconscious since her creation. She spoke that language.

She was the bridge between his personality and the myriad of all his sub-aspects. When Shen spoke to Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

trees, he required a personality. The girl he crushed on was a personality, she was one of a dozen

aspects of a particular tree that wanted communion with him but was afraid. They would draw close

and the scene would end. It felt like the tease scene accompanied by the song ‘Don’t Walk Away,’ by

ELO in the movie Xanadu.

Shen chewed on his thumb, trying not to be judgmental. He was a little jealous of Loxy’s ability, the

ease at which things came to her. A part of him knew that if his core self wanted him to know, the

information would be there, and so not knowing was how the core self related to the information

vicariously through Shen. Part of being a magician was trusting the core self and the universe at large.

Loxy was the reminder to embrace what was.

“Lots of cultures have rituals,” Loxy reminded him.

“Yeah, I know,” Shen said. “I am grateful for not landing in that culture that requires men to cut their lips

and wear those plates.”

Loxy seemed amused. “It probably doesn’t hurt as much as you think.”

“Hell, I get freaked out by the dentist, I can’t imagine body piercings and gauges…” Shen said,

shivering.

“Maybe it helps them not identify self as the body,” Loxy said.

“Interesting,” Shen said. “And yet, it emphasizes the body.” He puzzled. “Assume acupuncture works,

it’s a real thing. Doesn’t that mean every body piercing is either stimulating a response or under

stimulating a response? Is body piercing the equivalent of self-medicating?”

Loxy laughed. “Probably,” she agreed. “Since we’re talking about foreign rituals. You do know,

contextually, from this culture’s perspective, what happens in the barracks isn’t molestation.”

Shen found himself angry.

“What you experienced in your origin life was abuse, Jon, but this world is not that world,” Loxy said.

“Take for instance the tribe in New Guineas, where it is a rite of passage for all boys to drink sperm.

Sperm is sacred to them. It is gift that has to be passed on in order for boys to become men.”

“Yeah, well, that’s just gross…” Shen complained. “And stupid. Surely at least one woman sucked an

elder’s cock and didn’t grow a dick, so drinking sperm isn’t going to make you more a man…”

“Cultural bias…” Loxy said.

“Solid,” Shen said.

“Jon, Shen, Jon-shen,” Loxy said. “I am not invalidating your experience, but I am offering perspective

on how to lessen the negative emotion attached to it. Context is important. Say for example, you’re a

child and you witness the death of a loved one. Maybe a parent, or a sibling. That sucks. That can

linger and influence your mental health. The same experience when you are in your twenties, death still

sucks but it doesn’t have the same impact it would from the eyes of childhood. In your fifties, death

sucks, but by this time, you’re now reaching an age where the older you get the more deaths you’re

likely to experience. You will still grieve the loss of others, even at 90, but the psychological impact

should decrease overtime with emotional maturity. Death is a part of life.”

“Yeah. So, in other words, just get over it?”

“No, that’s not what I am saying,” Loxy said. “I am saying, context is important. If you get punched as a

kid, it hurts, you cry, but probably more from the shock than the actual pain. As an adult, well, you take

punches pretty good. You were acclimated to needles pretty early. Getting your blood drawn is like

nothing to you. But you know some people who see a needle and pass out. You’ve made fun of them,

too.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I have.”

“Context is everything.”

“Yeah.”

“Bye,” Loxy said.

“What?”