The Winds of Asharra

The

Winds of Asharra R. Leigh Volume 1: First-flight Outskirts Press, Inc. Denver, Colorado

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The Winds of Asharra Volume 1: First-flight All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2008 R. Leigh V2.0 Cover Photo © 2008 JupiterImages Corporation. All rights reserved - used with permission. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Outskirts Press, Inc. http://www.outskirtspress.com Paperback ISBN: 978-1-4327-2311-8 Hardback ISBN: 978-1-4327-1826-8 Library of Congress Control Number: 2008924699 Outskirts Press and the “OP” logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc. PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

I

t was a spectacular cross-over from ya to yi, as the twin suns parted company, creating a breathtaking twilight, on a world where it never became completely dark. The clear sky, now a softer shade of violet, was only dotted with a few wisps of light blue clouds as the naked winged pair lazily glided home to their own crystalline osharra. While aloft, they embraced and kissed, even joyfully managing a spin and a tight loop without breaking contact. His large blue wings covered her smaller red ones as he playfully introduced his tongue into her mouth. It was an Earth custom which she was grateful to have learned and one which she would never forget. He touched one of her tiny silver horns for luck, a gesture that had become a habit, as he slyly patted her on the globes of her tezz before releasing his mate from his embrace and landing on the familiar red soil of Asharra. They had been through so much together and encountered so many fine creatures, many of whom were formally declared as friends by way of the Doings. For her part, she was relieved at the completion of the 1

R. Leigh most recent events, even with the surprising consequences which she could never have imagined. Images of the beings they had encountered along the way darted across her greater mind as she snuggled into the pile of multi-colored looshie cushions inside the sleeping chamber. She was grateful for the experience of knowing the intelligent plants and the brash blue two-legged bull, to say nothing of the dreegins and the dragons. The sudden appearance of Paraaz, the great emerald colored gerh, a feline with more pride than poise, also reminded her to add him to the list. The winged beast, if he could have read her mind, would have been satisfied at the addition. She was as content as a friznaggle who had just gobbled up a batch of zim. Her mate flexed his body in preparation for sleep, eager to cuddle up to her and enjoy the closeness of her warmth and scent. He absentmindedly touched the red crystalline pendant which he wore around his neck, part of a matched set, and indicative of all that they had recently experienced. His sense of purpose and identity had been clarified and fulfilled. His Kokayniah was true and he was firmly on the path, despite a few accidental diversions along the way. “Tell me a story, my mate, “ she cooed to him, playfully rubbing her body against him. “And which one might that be.” he joked, clearly knowing the anticipated reply. “Silly dox, “ she giggled, “there is only one worth telling.” “Where shall I begin?” he whispered, beginning to caress her body with more urgency. “At the beginning of course...” she sighed, “and don’t skip over my favorite parts..” He tickled her in all of the right places, remembering precisely where each of them was located. Her skin glis2

The Winds of Asharra tened with sweat, and was as appealing to him as it always was, that wonderful color which he had never before encountered, before the incident with the Asharra-dobar of course. “Well, some parts did occur before we even met, but I will try my best to remember...” “Those parts you are allowed to condense,” she laughed. She closed her eyes, and leaned back as he enfolded her body with his, as their wings by now had returned to normal size for activities such as these, not requiring flight. Pausing only for a moment or two, he thought back and began to recall all that had happened. It all began inside a rather shabby looking room in a three story building, a classic New England triple decker, located just off of Harvard Square, in a place called Cambridge, Massachusetts, Earth. Victor Durant’s brief 18 year old life flashed before him as he tumbled backwards, knocking over the shiny metal table and the chair closest to him as he lost all sensation in his right hand. The cube shaped artifact alternately glowed from dull copper to bright red as it slipped through his youthful fingers. Was it crying out to him? A familiar female voice rang in his ears as he lost contact with the warmth of her slender hand as she too fumbled awkwardly away from the artifact like a clumsy rag doll. She made some sort of instinctive motion as she twirled about in the opposite direction but it wasn’t clear to Victor whether she was reaching out for his hand as she fell or if the artifact was the object of her attention. He was too busy trying to distinguish up from down and wondering why it was taking so long to reach the floor. It was hard to concentrate and the room seemed to be spinning right along with him. 3

R. Leigh Victor’s vision unblurred long enough to get a momentary glimpse of what was happening although the angle and the sensations did nothing to resolve his surprise and confusion. The cube seemed to be spinning in space, suspended in mid air as his next door neighbor was slowing falling backwards. Her long brown hair was splayed out in different directions and her gangly arms and legs looked even more pronounced as the 18 year old girl flailed about in slow motion as she turned in mid air falling towards the floor, but still not reaching it. Victor’s last lucid thought before closing his eyes was a pointless question whether or not this was all Zoe’s fault or if he was the one to blame. Who reached for the artifact first? He couldn’t remember. Who wanted a closer look? He wasn’t sure. Did it look ancient or futuristic? “Yes, that was the argument!”, he dimly recalled. Victor recalled the heated debate he had with Zoe over the artifact, He was always arguing with her over something. It had been that way as long as he could remember. Thousands of little arguments which he could never understand. His mind drifted and he thought of other disagreements and other angry moments, especially recent ones. His father was furious when he had discovered that both Victor and Zoe had overheard even a fragment of the discussion that had occurred when the men from the government and the university had arrived at the house in the middle of that cold Massachusetts afternoon. Zoe had been there since breakfast , which was not at all unusual since the two 18 year olds had been next door neighbors, acquaintances, close friends and bitter enemies (depending on the day of the week) since they were in first grade together. Whether they were fighting, laughing or battling over sharing each others toys, the two of them had been insepa4

The Winds of Asharra rable since they were first introduced. That had been the bright idea of Victor’s father, Evan Durant, an act of equal parts compensation and desperation. It had been several years since Victor’s mother had died and even a tenured college professor who never really felt in step with modern parenting techniques, could easily see that that an only child without the companionship of siblings, to say nothing of the lack of a mother would be left wanting. Having a same age confidante might help fill at least a small part of that void and perhaps counteract the bursts of anger and despair that the young boy felt at the loss of his mother. Zoe’s parents were high-power executives in some nameless corporate conglomerate whose only miscalculation in their twin dreams of climbing the ladder to success produced a dividend nine months after an inappropriately timed “private lunch break”. Evan Durant couldn’t imagine Zoe’s parents ever having sex (and in her private diary, Zoe had written that neither could she) but regardless of the circumstances, the proximity of a next door neighbor, eager to watch over the girl whenever their Company ordered them halfway around the world, was impossible to resist. It was in this way, that “the arrangement” was made. With lines never too clearly drawn except to satisfy obvious practicality, Zoe became a regular fixture at the Durant home, popping in and out unexpectedly, sometimes for the afternoon, and frequently staying for weeks at a time in the spare bedroom upstairs whenever her parents where out of town. The Professor never thought too much of whether to establish Zoe as a sort of pseudo-sister for Victor, some type of friend of the family or as an inscrutable little female fury who might choose to hurl insults and the remains of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at his son one day or occupy the bathroom for an eternity the next. In fact, there 5

R. Leigh were times when the Professor wasn’t exactly sure how the two adolescents felt about the arrangement since their relationship was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was only after an argument with Victor, during an uncharacteristic outburst, when the Professor threatened to ban Zoe from the house, that the wisdom of his initial decision was clear when a very angry and tearful Victor announced his firm refusal to enter the house if the brown haired girl were not allowed in it. He would live in the back yard instead. Wisely deciding to avoid that situation, the arrangement continued for several years without major incident. At times equally amusing and confusing to the Professor, it appeared to strike a much needed balance between the needs of the two families, no matter how unconventional it might have appeared to the outside world if they had truly know what was going on. For their part, the children themselves behaved true to their natures, as mercurial and unpredictable as that might seem to the uninitiated eye. When they were younger, the Professor thought nothing of allowing them to bathe together (being a rather liberal intellectual) and occasionally caught sight of two naked forms loudly chasing each other out of the bathroom, yelling at each other over who had stolen a washcloth or favorite bath toy. Such nude streaking and co-ed bathing incidents ended without any instigation by the Professor as time passed and childhood openness gave way to preadolescent feelings of body image concern and general confusion. The Professor was dimly aware that the next stage of even pseudoparenting would no doubt be more difficult and privately mused that the era of peanut butter and jelly sandwich wars or the sight of a joyous naked chase by the sopping wet children down the hall would be missed. The age of brooding and insecurity and secrets seemed to be on the horizon. 6

The Winds of Asharra Secrets were no stranger to Professor Evan Durant, In his mid fifties, he had spent most of his life attempting to unravel the secrets of mankind in one form or another. Mostly it was tedious work, even for a man who had a driving passion for discovery and a thirst for the unknown. Tall, soft spoken and decidedly nonathletic, Evan Durant was the quintessential renaissance man, an Old world scholar in search of an Old world. He was clearly out of step with modern society and that pleased him in an ironic way, without malice or remorse. Without achieving recognition or peer approval, he managed to quietly amass a collection of degrees in the arts and sciences that would have made Da Vinci nod in approval, but the world had long since decided that Da Vinci’s were not in fashion. The exception of course is if they were able to leverage the initial investment capital toward their promised discovery, garner enough support through peer review in the usual journals of note and guarantee enough grant money to not only fund their goals but perhaps more importantly (to some), advance the reputation of their University. Evan Durant was a pooh bear surrounded by corporate sharks and bitter owls in ivory towers. He was the first to admit that he made many mistakes, some on a fairly regular basis, and that his son Victor was perhaps both his greatest achievement and perhaps the only reason he would compromise his principles. When he was first contacted by the Government’s Menwithout-Names and told of the discovery of the artifact, Professor Durant was like a moth drawn to a flame. The lure of intellectual curiosity was overwhelming and much to his private shame, the promise of substantial monetary compensation was irresistible. The fact that he would never be famous as a result of this project meant nothing to him. The pure reward was the research. The practical reward 7

R. Leigh was for Victor. University professors rarely have much to pass on to their adolescents and Evan Durant was hardly a skillful financial manager. His wife, Francesca, had been the financial whiz and he had as much chance of channeling her monetary savvy as he did mimicking the warmth and passion of her nature. Whether it was her Mediterranean heritage or her personal fire, she had been his opposite in temperament. She was the Yin to his Yang. Now, all he had was his work and Victor. He had thought that the discovery of the artifact would be a bridge to both worlds and solve everything. As he tumbled backwards and knocked over a chair and the small table on which the cube had been placed, Victor saw his short life pass before his eyes. Knocked equally off balance, Zoe felt the same sensation and struggled, first to catch the falling cube and then to desperately clutch Victor’s hand when she felt the world give way under her. All the while, her brain lit up and displayed thought after thought to her, almost without her obvious consent. She recalled her first meeting with the young boy and how silly he looked. Images flooded her brain as the muscles in her legs thwarted her and she endlessly began to fall. Zoe recalled the bright colors of the spare bedroom, purple with red trim, which she had been allowed to repaint, after it officially became “hers.” She remembered, spattering Victor with paint after he cruelly drew a large “X” over her work and the odd look of surprise on his face. The memories and images were jumbled and disjointed. Images of her mother and father packing for another trip were replaced by a parade of teachers’ faces and doors opening and closing. Was she remembering her memories or where they remembering her? It was difficult to think clearly. Time wasn’t working very well for some reason. Her thoughts became more vivid, recalling old memo8

The Winds of Asharra ries of running through the snow in the backyard toward Victor in preparation for a snowball fight to running after him down the hall as little children six years old, as stark naked as he, dripping wet after a bath, squealing with delight and feeling free and alive. She recalled more private thoughts, remembering being alone, a 18 year old girl in the bathroom, drying herself after a much more recent shower. She remembered quietly studying her body. Time was standing still and she was stuck in this one private memory as she fell backwards, across from Victor. All the while the cube glowed red while her most private memories reminded her how she had turned around in the mirror and, looking over her shoulder and gazed at the rounded curve of her buttocks in her reflection. She thought of her body and the cube glowed brighter. Suspended in mid-air, never completing his fall, eyes tightly shut, Victor recalled how he brashly attempted to take the artifact away from Zoe after she had picked it up from the small metal table on the rear wall of his father’s office. He was teasing her at first but also upset that he couldn’t impress her by telling her what it was. Of course he couldn’t. He was only 18 years old and not a distinguished University scholar like his father, at least not yet. He couldn’t decide if it had originated from the distant past, the far future or dimensions unknown. It was a mystery. “Stop it, Vic!”, Zoe had shouted, when the boy tried to pluck the cube from her. They struggled with it for a second, their fingers touching momentarily as they wrestled for control of the strange box-like thing. They didn’t notice the subtle change in its temperature at that precise second. Suspended in time, Victor told himself how angry he was with Zoe and how childish she was being. Time continued to stand still and play tricks on their perceptions of realty. His heart rate quick9

R. Leigh ened and he felt a wave of nausea. When the teenager opened his eyes, looked around and after slowly shaking his head in disbelief, he smiled a confused, curious, and half sheepish smile toward his childhood friend. “What do you think? “ she asked, fixated on the look on his face, but already having come to the same conclusion, he was about to make. The young boy paused, looked up for a second and then at the girl. His immediate determination was both jarring and obvious from his surroundings. They were no longer on Earth. The obvious signs were all around them. It appeared to be a warm summer day, since they were now clearly outside and no longer in his father’s study. Yet, there were numerous odd and surreal elements. The color of the grass was a warm golden yellow rather than the familiar green of Earth. The patches of bare ground were a dusty red, not any shade of brown. Most obvious of all, the sky was the most beautiful shade of purple that Victor had ever seen. The vegetation looked lush but not quite tropical and there was a faint sweetness to the warm breeze which felt so nice against his exposed skin. In fact, it felt a little too nice, because all of his skin was bare. Both of them were completely nude and their clothing was nowhere in sight as they enjoyed the sensual warmth under an alien sky, which upon further examination, appeared to have two suns rather than one. “Wherever this is, it isn’t Earth.” he mumbled more to himself than to Zoe and choosing to concentrate first on the environment rather than his lack of clothing. Even still, after taking in the oddity of his surroundings, the boy could not help but shift his gaze towards Zoe. She was unexpectedly without any clothing of any kind as well. She paused for an instant as she fully realized that she was sitting in 10

The Winds of Asharra front of her childhood friend completely naked and that he was openly staring at her body. Her nipples appeared to betray her and harden instinctively. Zoe gulped selfconsciously when she realized that she had been sitting cross legged, giving Victor an unobstructed view between her legs. Victor noticed her discomfort but like any 18 year old boy, instead of immediately offering any sympathetic words to comfort her, he instead found himself silently staring at her. The importance of the alien landscape temporarily faded from his priority list as he admired the view. She had grown into a beautiful young woman. Normally, this situation would have upset the 18 year old girl, since Victor hadn’t seen her naked since she was six, but before she could get upset or take any action, she noticed one thing which caused her to feel slightly at ease and caused her to laugh. Although only a few seconds had passed since Victor had started not so subtly staring at the 18 year old’s genitals, it was long enough for his own to react, as it was also not hidden from view. Now having his turn to feel sheepish, Victor looked down at himself and said “I guess we’re even now.” They stood there for several moments frozen in place. Their focus should have been the unbelievable journey they had apparently just taken as well the surreal landscape filled in with what they perceived as mismatched color and shape. Instead, the two teenagers just stared at each other without saying anything. Perhaps it was because of the frequency of Zoe’s visits over the years, but Victor had usually considered her a sort of surrogate sister, someone who fought with him more than agreed with him. Yet, now, completely naked before him, his thoughts were not exactly those of a brother. For her part, Zoe had dated several other 11

R. Leigh people, usually considering Victor too much the geek for her tastes. Seeing him suddenly nude in these strange surroundings jolted her conscious mind as she recalled a much earlier crush she had on him when she was younger. As she looked between his legs, she could not recall why she would ever have stopped her previous pre-teen fantasies of him. Zoe only hoped he could not sense her own body’s automatic reactions to the sight of him. Not knowing whether it was the unusual circumstance in which they found themselves, accidentally on display for each other and automatically aroused, or whether it had something to do with their environment, this world of the purple sky, they shared a common compulsion. For a split second, they did not know whether to joke about their predicament, attempt to cover up or to give in to their bodies’ signals and just grope at each other like primal animals, having sex under the purple sky until they were too weak to continue. Somewhere in the distance, however, they heard a sound, a rustling of the leaves. The unexpected noise jolted them back into a somewhat more proper version of reality, despite their sudden unexpected nakedness. Recalling their early childhood adventures, Zoe flashed a mischievous girlchild grin and sprung like a cat towards Victor, initiating a game of tag, but not before adding a personal flourish. As one last rebuke to the proper logical side of her brain, the brown haired girl reached over, unceremoniously grabbed Victor’s built-in handle and made a rude honking noise before giving it a tug and letting it go, causing it to bounce from side to side. She turned on her heels and before Victor could fully get to his bare feet. “Be careful you don’t poke someone’s eye out with that thing!” she laughed as she galloped away from him at ever increasing speed. 12

The Winds of Asharra The jiggling globes of her backside bounced invitingly as she scampered through the trees, always a step or two away from him as he joyfully chased after her. They both flashed back to their younger selves, running down the hall in the house after their bath. They were happy and free and partially aware that they had retreated to safer, more familiar territory. What was it about this world that was breaking down their inhibitions and encouraging them to be honest with themselves? It was disturbing and exciting at the same time. The golden grass was soft under their bare feet and there were enough unidentifiable multi-colored flowers to make the lush background appear like a kaleidescope of color. As they ran down the hill, the trees became more frequent until they were in the middle of a forest of tall willow-like plants with yellow leaves and deep red branches which swayed in the warm wind. It was clear that they were a long way from home, somewhere strange and special and dangerous in a weirdly wonderful way. It somehow also felt inviting which was perhaps the oddest thing of all because it was a home in which they did not know how to behave. The logical thing would have been to compare notes and discuss the possibilities like rational beings. Still, it seemed more natural to run naked after each other in a surreal forest of yellow and red, under a warm purple sky. It was more important to Victor to relentlessly chase after that vertical smile of Zoe’s, as he was taunted by the continual jiggling of the globes of her rear. For her part, the young girl could only focus on being happy, occasionally glancing over her shoulder as she chased the naked boy running after her, slim and not very muscular, the object of his recent attention still bobbing from side to side in an amusing way as he went. The fragrances in the air caressed 13

R. Leigh them and the twin suns felt good on their bare skin. It had all the elements of a wonderful dream but they were very much awake. They would have continued their chase for quite a bit longer except for the fact that Victor decided he was going to zig instead of zag, dodging left after a tree instead of going to Zoe’s right. He was going to circle around and come up behind her. It was a simple and clever plan which was so simple that it almost worked flawlessly right up until the moment when it didn’t. Actually, the zigging worked just fine. The dodging went alright too. Even the circling part was executed by Victor without any apparent problem. It was when he closed in for his triumphant and surprising arrival, attempting to catch Zoe unaware, and grab the cheeks of her rear to get his revenge for her actions that his plan went suddenly wrong. He only realized this after he had both of his hands on the soft roundness of her bare backside that something was a little off. “Vic!” she cried unexpectedly from behind him. The boy paused for a beat and realized that the sound was coming from the wrong direction. The naked female rump he was squeezing wasn’t Zoe’s and it was a golden orange color,something he never had seen before. Shocked and more than a bit embarrassed, the teenager released his grip, as the object of his pursuit turned around. Both Victor and Zoe gazed at an impossibility in front of them. The girl whose rear Victor had so unceremoniously grabbed was beautiful but she wasn’t all together human. She was something similar but definitely not the same. “I’m sorry, “ Victor stammered as he fully withdrew his hands and placed them behind his back in an effort to hide his actions. “I didn’t mean to .. I thought you were...” “He thought you were me..” Zoe interrupted, helping 14

The Winds of Asharra him to complete the obvious thought. “We were running through forest...” By this time, both adolescents wondered if their words were being understood at all. They didn’t just accidentally collide with some stranger on the street, or brush against some fellow student on the way to class. The oddity of the situation struck them. They were standing in a forest of all of the wrong colors, completely naked, staring at a female who appeared to be only a few years older than them. It was only now that both adolescents realized one point which made at least one part of their situation a bit less embarrassing by conventional standards. Except for a collection of brightly colored bracelets around her neck, arms and ankles, the orange skinned girl was as naked as they were and apparently quite unabashedly content with the situation. She was half a head taller and her body was completely hairless except for two small patches of short black hair on the near the bottom of her breasts, which looked like little triangles pointed upward to her nipples. and a corresponding triangle of dark hair between her long legs. Her ears were not human, but instead more pronounced like that of a cat or a fox and stood up on the top of her head. She had long black hair with faint patterns of lighter and darker black streaked across it. Her eyes were a sea green and much larger than a person from Victor and Zoe’s world, giving her a striking and soulful appearance. Her cheekbones were pronounced and her nose was broad, contrasting with a pointy chin, making any comparison with Earth races next to impossible. Yet, one thing was certain from glancing even a moment at her slender nude orange body, stretched slightly out of proportion, due to the long legs. This golden-orange girl was beautiful in an unnaturally natural way, like something in a dream. 15

R. Leigh “My name is Theyna,” the creature smiled warmly to them. “You speak English,” Zoe remarked in obvious surprise, as she turned and quietly pinched Victor’s stomach to get his attention. The teenager was clearly staring at the girl’s amber colored body although more in fascination than anything else. “You speak Asharran” Theyna laughed in response and clearly amused,”except for a few empty words which I can not understand.” “We aren’t speaking English?” Victor remarked, finally breaking his gaze. “Empty words?” Zoe repeated, “I don’t understand. Where are we, anyway?” Theyna paused briefly as if trying to find the right response. She gestured towards a path which neither Victor nor Zoe had noticed before and gestured for them to walk along it with her. “This place is what we call -- Asharra. It means “The Home Around Us” and it is the same for every creature, all have some manner of place to call their own.” “It’s your world... the entire world.” Victor chimed in. “Of a sort”, Theyna replied,” and within Asharra are Ishanna or “The Home Inside Us” and Osharra or “The Homes Between Us”. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.” Zoe admitted. “I will try again”, Theyna said in a small voice , “but simpler this time. I have heard that Iramu have difficulties understanding Asharran ways at first.” The adolescents mistakenly assumed that the beautiful creature was just referring to any strangers in her land, or foreigners to her country. Still, she was friendly and that 16

The Winds of Asharra was more than they could have hoped. She pointed towards a small stream up ahead and suggested to them to follow her there. When they approached it, the naked alien bent down and tossed a tiny pebble into it. As expected it made ripples in the clear green water as it quickly sunk toward the bottom. “Different Osharras touch and bring together the Ishanna and finally the Asharra as the water separates, creates and moves different pieces of itself when it is moved.” “I got everything but the last part.” Zoe said looking down as she dipped her toes in the stream. The water was warm and she could see her naked reflection in it, even as it moved. “I think she’s talking about something like interconnected eco-systems, larger and smaller niches of plants and animals all different...” said Victor. “We have whole branches of sciences that study these things.” Zoe added, “ecology, biology, zoology...” “More empty words which I do not understand ..” Theyna said. Zoe crinkled her nose as she suggested Victor to dip his toes into the stream. “That’s the confusing part. What are empty words?” “I was getting to that.” Theyna smiled with a look that unintentionally mimicked some teacher of hers. “There are only three types of words, deep words, shallow words and empty ones.” She picked up a pebble and a larger rock and tossed them both into the stream one after the other. “Deep words are those for powerful ideas, things that make your sha flow strongly and cause your dox-mind or your nish-mind, to quicken. Shallow words can be useful or basic or silly, but they are a not filled too deeply. That is 17

R. Leigh why we can feel them easily. That is why we can speak to each other.” “The words themselves make it possible for you to understand us? “ Victor asked, ignoring the terms he did not understand, “there has to be more to it than that.” “Perhaps, “Theyna giggled, “but the rest of the answer is just more shallow words. All I know is that you are speaking Asharran, except for a few meaningless empty words here and there.” “So empty words don’t translate from our language, only shallow or deep ones? “ Victor summarized to the orange skinned girl. The alluring Asharran girl nodded in the affirmative. Victor attempted to grapple with this linguistic paradox. Either something natural was automatically translating their spoken words into Asharran for the alien girl to understand or something was causing their brain to translate their thoughts into Asharran and they only thought they were still speaking English. Either possibility was totally bizarre and appeared to contradict everything he had ever heard before. The fact that certain words, empty words, did not translate at all was also puzzling to the boy. This one aspect seemed to bother the alien girl more than it did the two of them. She appeared determined to resolve it and teach the two beings from Earth a lesson in Asharran ways in the process. The teenagers regarded Theyna as a walking contradiction. As she spoke, she appeared childlike one moment and wise the next. Her words were clear and cryptic. Her manner was confident and coy. She was familiar and exotic all rolled up into one. The bracelets on her upper arms and the ones on her ankles had some sort of intricate carving on them and weren’t made of anything that the adolescents could iden18

The Winds of Asharra tify. You couldn’t tell if they were old or expensive or if that even mattered to Theyna. They complimented her nakedness but did nothing to obscure it. Her breasts and genitals were as exposed as the adolescent’s and her adornment was more of an accent or personal expression of her basic female form, not something to cover it. She had a distinctive perfume that Victor found appealing as he inhaled deeply around her. It was Zoe who had correctly deduced that the aroma was natural and not artificial. The Asharrans apparently did not mask their natural body scents with deodorants. The aromas from Theyna were obvious to the Earth girl, familiar with her own scents. Victor was merely reacting to the natural female smell, not excessively covered up by soap, perfume or deodorant. The strength of Theyna’s combined scent suggested that Asharran hygiene did not demand frequent showers as well. “I still don’t completely understand.” Zoe admitted with a frown. Theyna had to break through the communication barrier with them, even if it meant shaking them up in the process. “Do you really want your questions answered?” she asked. The cryptic tone in Theyna’s voice made Zoe feel self conscious for the first time since she had arrived on Asharra. With so many questions, she was beginning to feel she was back in school and that suddenly made her nudity feel out of place, even though Theyna was practically as naked as she was, aside from the beautiful jewelry. Did the alien girl sense this and decide to incorporate it into part of the lesson? Theyna was obviously frustrated as her reaction to Zoe’s confusion was clear. They stood there, the three of them, in a semi circle, naked in the clearing but somehow separated in a key way. Was one of the problem the words 19

R. Leigh themselves? Theyna was convinced she had to force them to stop using empty Earth words even if it meant doing so in an Asharran manner, a way which might shock them. Theyna turned back towards Zoe and began to speak: “All of our nishs have a little patch of black on our ....” Theyna said to Zoe as she pointed to the Earth girl’s chest. “What do you call those in your language?” “Breasts”, Zoe replied in a startled voice. Theyna frowned. “No, not right. It is a deep term but you use an empty word for it. That is not the Asharran word and does not translate.” “They’re not Zoe’s breasts?” Victor stuttered,”and what do you mean that isn’t the right word? Of course those are Zoe’s breasts.” “Do you really see them that way?” Theyna asked. “Does that word make you feel their warmth or softness in your hands?” “I don’t know”, stuttered Victor, surprised at the bluntness of Theyna’s question. “We’ve just been friends. I haven’t even seen them in years. I had no idea they were that they were attractive.” Zoe blushed slightly but she enjoyed the obvious compliment as well as its source. Theyna smiled oddly at Zoe and looked back toward Victor with an intent glaze. Without warning, she casually reached over took his right hand by the wrist and placed it over one of Zoe’s bare breasts. “There, “ she smiled to him, “Does that feel like a breast, a cold empty word? It has warmth. You can feel her yi-sha, the feminine energy which surges through her body, just as your energy, your ya-sha, pulses through you.” He smiled sheepishly as Zoe gulped in surprise at his touch. She wondered if Asharran manners were more leni20

The Winds of Asharra ent or if Theyna really wished to jolt her into responding. Both were in fact true. Zoe’s feelings betrayed her as her left nipple hardened under Victor’s touch. She began to recall more details of the crush she had for him when he was twelve and how it had ultimately faded away when she had determined that perhaps he was too nerdy for her tastes. Now, in this waking dream, he did not appear like a nerd at all. Zoe began to let her imagination run away with her, imagining all sorts of possibilities, as she stood motionless. “Now what do you call this in your hand?” Theyna repeated to Victor, sensing that the sensuality of the moment might change his response. For his part, the teenager thought he understood what she was suggesting, so instead of replying as he did before, he planned to use a more common term, a slang one that might more earthy. Yet, when he opened his mouth, the reply was not what he had expected. “It is her shala, “he said, “she has really nice shalas.” As he removed his hand, the two teenagers from Earth stared at each other in surprise as the orange skinned Asharran girl grinned in obvious approval. Somehow, they heard the word in native Asharran rather than English. If they really weren’t speaking English, it was only obvious whenever they stumbled across what Theyna had considered a deep term, something important or something which required expression or passion in its description. To do any less, rendered the word empty and untranslatable. To effectively communicate on Asharra, one had to speak with feeling in order to be understood. The teenagers would have to abandon any cold and clinical words, as well as any ambiguous, deceptive or limiting ones as well. If their language was any indication of their culture, the Asharrans valued that which was natural, primal and open, without 21

R. Leigh any falsehood. As they continued to speak to Theyna, their suspicions were quickly confirmed. The fact that she regarded the English word “clothing” as empty and untranslatable clearly told them that nudity must be the rule, rather than the exception in Asharran society. They were even more surprised to learn that other words from Earth such as competition, leader, war and murder were all viewed as empty, having no known equivalent to the Asharrans. Instead, the people here, if Theyna was any accurate indication, were as open minded in their words as they were in their choice of clothing, or rather lack of it. They even bandied about terms for male and female body parts or functions such as dox’s, nish’s, tezz’s, shalas, zee and zim without any apparent shame or embarrassment. Even their equivalent of the most vulgar earth word, which they called fremm, suggested a very natural sensual act between bonded mates and even unbonded friends. It certainly wasn’t reduced to a swear word like on Earth. Thus, the two teenagers began to inadvertently, learn the deep words of the language, even with out trying. So long as their names for so-called deep terms were passionate ones, they came out of their mouths as Asharran words. Theyna then inquired to both Victor and Zoe what their status together was, the equivalent of asking if they were a couple. When she observed that the reply seemed confused, despite an apparent gleam in Zoe’s eye, she appeared frustrated and thought for a moment before replying. “Then it is something you must use your Greater Minds to discover.” The concept was explained to the teenagers by way of an outline that apparently all Asharrans, philosophically believed, despite what any medical science might have taught them, that everyone has two minds, a greater one and a 22

The Winds of Asharra lesser one. The lesser one corresponds to the brain and handles all of the day to day logical things like where you left your car keys and how to do your job at work. The Greater mind, however, was something else entirely. Since the terms for males and females, dox’s and nish’s, actually corresponded to the sex organs between their legs (since that is what obviously distinguishes them), the greater minds were called dox-minds and nish-minds and symbolically located there rather than in the brain. The Greater Mind (dox for males, nish for females) was the seat of creativity, passion, and in essence, one’s individual personality. It was perhaps for this reason, that the Asharrans placed such a high regard on naturalness and sensuality. Likewise, their attitudes on primal sexuality were not only liberal but considered vital for a normal happy life. For the Asharrans, It was the natural interplay between these two minds which determined how well you functioned in society. Depending on the circumstance, it was appropriate to favor the advise and wisdom of one mind over the other and in some circumstances ,an equal dose of both. Like most Asharran advice, the precise formula for this was not entirely clear and dependent on one’s own instinct, which in true Asharran circular logic was developed by listening to their own internal minds. When asked what dictated these minds, Theyna would only smile and offer the enigmatic phrase, “the winds that carry you along.” The three of them walked for some undefined period of time -- the younger adolescents were having a problem telling time on Asharra since, being completely naked, they had no watches. Theyna was no help either and apparently found the conversation either curious or silly, depending on whether Victor or Zoe was the one trying to explain the Earth way to her. If the Asharrans had any concept of time, 23

R. Leigh it was firmly rooted in the present. Today was what mattered. Theyna did indirectly admit that yesterday and tomorrow existed but more always in terms of the present day (yesterday was just earlier today to her). Occasionally, Asharrans did refer to time within a day by reference to the two suns, Yi and Ya, via a loose series of expressions of early, mid or late Ya or Yi time but it was not time keeping as Victor and Zoe understood the concept to be. The discussion became even more curious when Zoe attempted to bring in basic concepts such as named days of the week or months of the year. Theyna politely listened and then laughed out loud. Zoe took an immediate liking to the strange young woman with the animal ears and wanted to know everything there was about Asharran culture and to even experience it firsthand. What little she had heard sounded wonderful, so unlike the pretenses and the uptight stresses of Earth. There she felt the pressure to fit in not only as a college student but was also encouraged to buy into so much that she did not believe. Here, it was different. Here, her anatomy said that she possessed a nish instead of a dox. That did not make her a second class citizen, underpaid, subject to PMS or even an objectified sex object. She was just a nish whose purpose was to enjoy life and learn and do things through play, as there was no Asharran term for work. This appealed to her and she began to envy the Asharran way. To the Asharrans, she would have possessed all of the adult rights by age twelve. While, the sensual aspect of Asharran culture excited her, Zoe was intrigued by all possible areas of the their way of life and it was clear by the look in her eyes. Theyna saw this but said nothing. As they walked along the path, Theyna told them many 24

The Winds of Asharra things which amazed them. Theyna was convinced of the critical necessity of such background knowledge so that the view that Zoe and Victor would have of Asharra would be in Asharran terms, true. She told them for example, that their concept of time was partly because of their view of life, simply called Asha. They lived in the now since on Asharra, that was easy to do. The planet had two suns, one slightly smaller than the other. Through some complicated interrelationship of the movement of their planet and these twin suns (called Yi and Ya), it was perpetually daytime on Asharra. Although it periodically became less bright, depending which sun was out, it was never completely dark. The equivalent of pitch black to an Asharran was like the last hour or so before Earth’s single sun would set, when it was low in the sky. Still, it never was night. It was indeed, always today on Asharra. Life on the planet was less turbulent than on earth. The weather system was driven by their suns and some chemicals in the air which instigated rain periodically, called the Water of Asharra. Although semi regular in frequency and not completely predictable, it was never to excess, as was the case of virtually everything on Asharra. There were no floods or tides with no moon, and no earthquakes or volcanoes since geology of the land appeared to follow some set of exotic chemistry different than on Earth. Animal life was varied with creatures that ones that appeared to fill similar niches in the eco-system. Theyna promised that she would take the adolescents to someone who knew much more about that sort of thing to instruct them if they wished. What she did explain, was more than enough to amaze them. While Victor wished to direct some obvious questions about their apparent arrival on Asharra, he found himself so intrigued at the moment, that he could not change the subject. 25

R. Leigh “Do you have pets?” Zoe asked, enjoying the information on animals. The word was obviously considered empty on Asharra since Theyna could not comprehend it or have it automatically translated in Asharran. Finally when Zoe had successfully conveyed the general concept, Theyna could reply. She informed them that the concept was foreign on Asharra since all life was regarded equally and equally respected. All animals were either vegetarian or photo-synthetic. There were no meat-eaters of any kind and had not been for eons, since the Times Before of Legend. The idea of pets was therefore empty. The adolescents had no problem thinking of every living creature as a potential friend, especially since Theyna had explained that nothing was out to kill them and eat them for food. There were no natural predators and no prey. She then explained that since her worldview, the Asha, revealed that all life was interconnected, no matter how different it appeared, that no one had the right to force their will on another creature. This applied to everything and the implications were staggering. The Asharrans were strict vegetarians (vegans actually), eating a large variety of fruits, nuts, and plant derivatives. This level of respect meant that there were no beasts of burden. There were no saddles or animals pulling carts although an Asharran might ride a six legged creature called a Deedel if the creature were willing and rewarded for its part in the bargain with food, lodging or any other unspecified requirements. It was some kind of cooperative arrangement , a loosely held non-verbal interspecies agreement which could be revoked at any time by either party with no ill will. The more Theyna spoke of the Asharran view of life in general, the need for balance, the interconnectedness and 26

The Winds of Asharra the overwhelming stress of what is true and natural and primal, the more appealing it was for both of the teenagers. That is not to say that they were not quite frequently confused by some specific details or imagined consequences of the situation. Did the lack of distinct seasons (interrupted by welcomed Water of Asharra or rain showers) mean no need for lots of food storage since there were almost continual growing seasons? With a lack of predators, wouldn’t at least some of the animal population become so large it would topple the eco-system? Here, Theyna’s response was at her most cryptic and confusing. “All things on Asharra follow the way of Asha. It does not matter if they do not think so, It is what they feel. Whether they fly or climb or swim , they are still doxs and nishs of Asharra, are they not?” Victor took this to mean some kind of natural equilibrium was taking place with the control mechanism being the creatures themselves although he couldn’t figure out how that would be possible other than just labeling everything “instinct.” He had learned enough from hearing his father lecture on about evolution that he assumed that something like that must be at work here., although on some level that must be strange and exotic and peculiar to Asharra. Theyna assured him she would introduce the boy to an elder who had more knowledge on this. Zoe was equally fascinated but focused more on some of the more intangible elements that she felt had to be working behind the scene. If Victor was the most comfortable playing junior natural scientist (thanks to his father), she was the philosopher, the mystic and the dreamer. She wondered if the Asharran way of Life extended to the animals because of some invisible connection. She felt that on Asharra there might be a rare thing present, where an idea and a feeling 27

R. Leigh would be the same thing and that it somehow could be shared by everything for the common good. On one hand, this discussion had been a wonderful thing, opening the door on the Asharran way of life and the planet itself just a crack. Both Zoe and Victor were eager for more and each answer only yielded more and more questions for them to ask. That was the problem. Theyna tried to touch lightly on as many topics as she could think of and was sidetracked more than once from what she was saying by the adolescent’s follow up questions. Finally she placed her hands on her shalas in some ritual gesture and said,”That’s enough for now. You’ve drained me from talking.” She pointed up just up ahead at some sort of structure. It was only a few minutes away and the obvious destination. It was small and appeared to be a shack of some kind made of brownish reeds, lashed together the way someone on Earth would work with bamboo, cane or rattan. Victor was confused. He expected to see a city or at least a village but not a little shack. “Is that your Osharra, your home?” Zoe asked. “No”, came the simple reply, “silly little nish, that is a Gleestoolia for travelers such as ourselves. My Osharra is still a few days away. We will eat and sleep here.” “A rest stop.” Victor laughed. “As long as the bathroom is clean and the towels are fresh.” joked Zoe, much to Theyna’s confusion. “And I could really use that bathroom.” the Earth nish mumbled quietly, to nobody in particular.. Victor squeezed her tezz-cheek playfully and shouted, “Race you!” Before Theyna could respond, the two naked Earth adolescents sprinted toward the structure which was now 28

The Winds of Asharra clearly identifiable as a one story, one room semi circular shack made entirely of curved bamboo-like reeds that were more triangular in shape than round. There was a roof made from the same material and two cut outs for windows. There was no door of any kind. The teenagers stopped a few feet in front the building as Theyna caught up. She had made no effort to join the race as Asharrans had no concepts for competition. “I won”, Zoe smiled proudly which is good because I really have to zee.” She giggled after hearing the Asharran word escape her lips. She had automatically substituted the letter “z” for the letter “p”. “There will be food and looshies for sleeping,” Theyna announced. “Just show me the bathroom.” Zoe said, repeating her concern. Theyna walked past the two of them as they stood no more than ten feet from the front of the building, as if waiting for permission. The orange haired girl stepped from the path onto the area immediately in front of the opening, turned back around to face them and placed one hand on each of side of the opening and spread her legs, as if to make a giant letter X blocking their way inside. “Almost everything we need is here,” she said, “Follow me” Instead of turning around and walking inside, or at least stepping to one side or the other and allowing the adolescents to pass, the naked alien girl squatted and lowered one of her arms. “Oh no.” Zoe sighed, familiar with the impending action. Victor was completely mystified what was going on until a stream of zee erupted from Theyna’s nish. It splashed 29

R. Leigh on the smooth crimson ground just in front of the entrance way, “I think you just found the bathroom.” Victor laughed. “Yeah, right in front where everybody can see,” the earth girl sighed. “What’s the big deal?” Victor asked, pretending to be innocent about this, “I can already see everything you’ve got and there is nobody else here.” Theyna continued to zee in front of the adolescents apparently oblivious to their reactions. She had something less obvious on her dual minds. “Quite a local custom,” Victor chuckled, much to Zoe’s chagrin. Even without any comments, it was clear to her, that he was enjoying what he saw. “You really need to put that thing on a leash,” Zoe laughed. Only after Theyna had finished relieving herself did Victor and Zoe step forward toward the opening of the shack. “Say, Isn’t it your turn next?” he teased. “In a minute”, Zoe replied with a little edge in her voice, before squatting and unceremoniously unleashing her own stream of zee upon the ground. “A guy could get used to watching that” he said, only half kidding. The adolescents laughed and walked single file toward the house with Victor going first. They were distracted enough by their teasing that both of them accidentally walked straight through the puddles of warm zee as they entered the structure. Surprised at the sensation, having planned on stepping around it, Zoe stamped one of her bare feet in frustration. Any amusement on Victor’s part was moderated when the splash from her toes caused the liquid 30

The Winds of Asharra to hit the him in the tezz. On Earth, the situation might have been embarrassing but for some odd reason, it felt perfectly natural to both of them and they thought nothing more of it at the time. The inside of the reed building was a little larger than either of them thought, perhaps appearing that way because of the large openings where the three windows and the door would have been. The effect of an opening on each side allowed for the maximum amount of light from that direction. A cut out in the roof seemed to serve as a sort of skylight, accomplishing the same thing and making the adolescents forget that there was no artificial light in the building. “This is a Gleestoolia”, Theyna announced.” She reached into a pile of leaves on one side of the room and produced two cups that had obviously been made from husks of some local fruit. Additional rummaging around resulted in the production of a container made from large stiff flat blue leaves sewn together with some cordlike material. Inside the leaf box were a collection of nuts and berries, more than enough for all of them. Victor peered over Theyna’s shoulder and saw that there were several other similar blue leaf boxes buried in the pile of smaller loose leaves. All of the leaves were still soft and fresh or at least appeared to be that way to the boy. Theyna then reached up to the inside of the roof which the adolescents had ignored to this point and pulled down something that looked like a giant oblong flattened pillow. It was made from some sort of soft bark like material, filled with something soft and secured together with a finer twine like material via a series of carefully shaped knots which formed very intricate patterns. “You two will sleep inside here.” the alien girl ex31

R. Leigh plained, gesturing to the obvious space inside the one room shack, “this will make it comfortable for your heads.” “What about you?” Zoe asked. “Travelers are almost always in ones or two’s so this place was not built for three. I will be very happy sleeping outside. There are many soft things to gather to make a simpler head rest.” “So we have a pillow but no beds or sleeping bags”, Victor whispered to Zoe. “You will have to learn how to curl up together and use your own softness as a bed.” Theyna said, but before then I will get us some water from a stream very close by . You can starting eating now or wait, whatever feels right.” The alien girl stopped for a moment and began to remove each of the bracelets from her arms, legs and ankles. Even though they did not cover her shalas, her tezz or her nish, she seemed truly naked for the first time to the Earth adolescents when she removed them. She did not explain why she took off the jewelry but in any case, she was now as stark naked as they were. “When I return, there are two things we need to do.” The tone in her voice became uncharacteristically solemn, coming from her. The triangular pointy ears on the top of her hair flattened down to her head. “First, I would like to be formally declare my friendship for both of you . We have a practice, what we call a Doing to declare that intention. “ “A Doing?” Victor repeated. “A symbolic ritual, “Theyna explained as the teenagers nodded in agreement. “And the other thing?” Victor minded her, “What’s that?” Theyna then cryptically explained that there she had decided to utilize some vague Asharran process to assist 32

The Winds of Asharra their absorption of Asharran culture, to accelerate their learning and enhance their communication. Both Victor and Zoe realized by her tone of voice, that Theyna was convinced that this was something serious, even if she was unwilling to say more. “That would be wonderful.” Zoe said, her joy quite obvious in her voice. “Yes, I’m for anything to help understand you better. and avoid any mistakes.” Victor added. “Good but remember that mistakes are rarely empty, just shallow things. They help our sha be carried along with the Asha. It is only when we give up that a mistake can make us empty.” Theyna smiled. “I will get the water and a few special things and will be back soon.” Without putting her jewelry back on and without explaining why, the older girl, stepped outside and walked away from the reed-like building. Inside,. Victor and Zoe could hear a small number footsteps from Theyna’s bare feet as well as couple of small splish splash noises as she passed the entrance way before it was silent and they were once again by themselves. The two conflicted teens looked across the small room at each other, unsure how to proceed. Even while becoming more comfortable with their continual state of undress, they were still a little awkward together, not knowing whether to resume making out or to discuss what feelings they might be having for each other. Instead, they decided for the moment, to pause and reflect on what had happened to them thusfar. They still had no idea where they were and what their chances were of returning home. It was more than a little reassuring that their first contact with someone had been friendly. They tried to keep the big picture in focus but that was difficult because, in their brief period of time 33

R. Leigh under the purple sky, they had begun questioning their own individual sense of identity and personhood. They were both, in Asharran terms, trying to let their nish-mind and their dox-mind, their multifaceted primal sensual true selves be their guide. It seemed impossible that a few hours spent without clothing in some semi-tropical paradise could unnerve them, regardless of the obvious fact that it clearly wasn’t on Earth and that Theyna clearly wasn’t human. Well, maybe they did have a right to feel stressed, after all. Regardless of the apparent tranquility of their surroundings and the hints of a surreal and sensual way of life enjoyed by the locals, they were still lost and a long way from home. That was jarring enough, but when the final emotional components were added, the discoveries of old feelings and missed opportunities for relationships, it was enough to make both of their collective heads spin. They were being pulled in multiple directions at once, some interesting, some tempting and others just worrisome. They made smalltalk for awhile and attempted to compare notes about what they had seen and heard. “I’m getting hungry,” Victor then announced, recalling that Theyna had said that they could start eating without her if they felt the need. They opened one of the blue leaf boxes and sampled the contents, a variety of unidentifiable things that were obviously some kind of assortment of Asharran fruits and vegetables. There was even a parchment like thing which the teenagers jointly concluded was some sort of grain-like product, similar to the flat poppadom breads of India. The two teenagers talked further about Earth and wondered how much time had truly passed since they had been on Asharra. With the existence of two different size suns in the sky, making the unfamiliar daily cycle end in twilight 34

The Winds of Asharra rather than darkness, their hope of telling time seemed far off at best. This was their first meal since they arrived and they weren’t totally exhausted so it couldn’t have been that long, maybe a few hours, maybe it was the next day in Earth terms. Curiously, there wasn’t any trace of stubble on Victor’s chin and he wondered if the condition might continue while he was on Asharra. He chuckled at the prospect and turned his thoughts toward other things, specifically the naked childhood friend next to him. While his hormones might appreciate her presence, he found it a little difficult to concentrate on issues related to their return home while in her presence. It wasn’t just the nudity either. He was beginning to sense some strong feelings coming from Zoe’s direction and quite honestly, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He had compartmentalized Zoe into the role of friend and confidante years ago, suspecting that he was not her type. Now, without clothing, it was difficult to hide his body’s obvious reaction to her appearance. He couldn’t control that but at least according to Theyna, such reactions were not given a second glance on Asharra. Still, it wasn’t Theyna’s glances that he was concerned about. Apart from his moments of sexual arousal or frustration, he was almost more fixated on the growing questions he had about Asharra and he was beginning to get more than a little filled with anticipation about arriving at Theyna’s home city and hopefully discovering the answers concerning what really brought them to this world and why. He tried to focus on this but Zoe kept smiling at him in an alluring way, now apparently quite comfortable at having him see her nude. “Victor, she asked, “If we never get back to Earth, can you promise me we’ll always be together?” “We don’t know if we’re stuck here, Zoe. Don’t jump 35

R. Leigh to that conclusion.” he suddenly barked at her, in a tone stronger than he had intended. The look in her eyes was increasingly obvious, even to a self confessed geek, like Victor. While he definitely had a heroic side buried deep inside, his personality had become more nerd-like over the past few years, thanks to the encouragement of his father, urging him on to get admitted to Harvard, his alma mater. That had taken much of Victor’s attention, even more than he had been willing to admit. Zoe engaged in a sort of gentle verbal debate with him, clearly having unfair advantage due to his obvious attraction to her physical attributes. At this close proximity, even her natural scent was beginning to become a distraction , causing him to wonder if they were both just getting caught up in the situation, as unusual as it was. As they continued to talk together, the topics became more personal and blunt, wearing down his emotional walls. After a while he even admitted his pre-teen fantasies about her, though he had been oblivious to the crush that she confessed to have had for him at the time. A lump formed in his throat when he realized the missed opportunities. His pulse quickened,however, when he realized the present possibilities, as he sat across from her equally nude body, in this serene alien landscape. Whether the warm air or the gentle breezes entering the reed building were to blame, he could not guess but the result was not too unexpected. The conversation soon progressed to more silent pursuits and the two of them began to make up for lost time. As they shared a first kiss together and let their hands begin to explore each other, Zoe startled him, suggesting that there was nothing slowing down the natural course of events while they were on Asharra. Victor couldn’t recall the precise words either of them used, since both teenagers appeared to be intoxicated by the lush 36

The Winds of Asharra golden vegetation and the violet sky, but the subject of fremming, fully sharing each other, did somehow come up and they both not so subtly hinted that it might be something they would explore sooner rather than later. Zoe seemed to see him in an entirely new light but even with such a glorious experience virtually promised to him, a tiny voice seemed to be nagging Victor. Was it his heroic romantic side or what Theyna had called his primal doxmind? In either case, why should it be throwing emotional cold water on him? He had very little time ponder this question when a newly familiar female voice broke his train of thought. “I am here!” yelled a happy voice from the perpetually open entrance. “Theyna!” the adolescents exclaimed, wondering just how long she had been gone from the Gleestoolia. The slender golden-orange skinned alien girl stood in the entrance way. The animal-like ears on the top of her head wiggled from side to side as she held up a container of some sort which obviously held water and a large folded up leaf. She scarcely entered the small structure when Zoe began to besiege her with a hundred questions relating to the Asharran practices regarding dating and marriage. Victor was certainly curious, but he was getting increasingly annoyed that the larger priorities were being forgotten. He wanted to know how they arrived on Asharra and what their chances were of returning to Earth. Zoe seemed all caught up in other things, even appearing that she was not interested in going home at all. While Victor admitted to himself that he was increasingly listening to another part of his brain, allowing himself to reveal any sensual or sexual thoughts to Zoe, he was still attempting to focus on the details of his arrival and what that meant. Zoe meanwhile, 37

R. Leigh was content to ask a million questions she would never have asked on Earth. “How often do Asharrans fremm?” she said, with a sly smile. “As frequently as they wish.” came the flat response. “How old do you have to be to do it?” she countered. “Why should age matter?” replied Theyna, “We teach our young since birth that their bodies are beautiful and can be shared willingly by choice until a bonded mate is selected.” “Are there any types of fremming that Asharran’s consider odd or strange?” Zoe continued. Theyna frowned and just shook her head in the negative, amazing the female from Earth. Much to Victor’s surprise, the questions kept coming and became more and more personal, exploring Asharran sexual preferences and marriage customs. Victor was amazed by Zoe’s sudden frankness and her obsession with this subject. For Zoe, the questions made perfect sense to her since this vacation-like paradise was the first place she ever felt truly comfortable. She had always considered herself a free spirit, shackled and bound by antiquated rules, regardless whether they had come from her frequently absent parents or her teachers at school. As she listened to Theyna’s words, the Asharran way of life seemed almost too good to be true, with elements similar to the hippies in the 1960’s, a dash of Eastern mysticism and other aspects which seemed charmingly unique to this strange world. Without completely admitting it to herself, Zoe began to hope that she and Victor could remain stranded here like modern castaways, forever nude under a purple sky, free to make love and enjoy all of the things that this world had to offer. Theyna continued the conversation by explaining four 38

The Winds of Asharra Doings or rituals that Asharran bonded couples engaged in, after they become formally mated to each other. Apparently, monogamy was the norm on Asharra but prior to selecting a mate, it was literally anything goes, so long as all parties were willing. She attempted to conclude the conversation by explaining the difference between Asharran mate selection and Earth dating techniques. “On Asharra, we search for our mates testing one possibility at a time. We basically search for our mate, ending each relationship as soon as it is clear that the dox or nish is not going to be a possible mate.” “But you do fremm them.” Zoe asked. “All of the time”, Theyna giggled, “but always with the intent on discovering if the partner is the right one for them, their other half, their mate. Yes, I have fremmed several dox’s, but I have not found my true mate yet. I am free to play with others as much as I want until I find him.” “What happens when you do find your mate?” Zoe sighed romantically. Theyna glanced at the wistful look in her brown eyes She could tell that the little nish from Earth was very similar to her.” “Then we have a public bonding ceremony and after that, the couple begin celebrating the four Doings, over and over again. “Speaking of rituals and Asharran Doings,” Victor spoke up after he realized that things had gotten completely sidetracked, “when can we see what is in there? Theyna opened up the folded leaf to reveal a pile of small green berries about the size of peanuts, each with two small red dots on them. It appeared to them that the berries were supposedly something to make them more like Asharrans, something to 39

R. Leigh enable them to understand Asharran ways with less need for explanation. Victor was convinced they might be psychotropic or some form of mind altering drugs native to the berries like peyote on earth or certain wild mushrooms. Zoe instead looked at the berries as some mystical centuries old way handed down by Asharrans to unlock some inner potential in some undefined way. Theyna slowly counted out a number of berries for each of the adolescents.. ten for Zoe and thirteen for Victor. They couldn’t tell how many were left wrapped in the leaf. “These are given to Iramu, travelers like yourself who have come to Asharra from other worlds. We try to give them to them as soon as possible after they arrive.” “Do Asharrans eat them too?” Zoe asked, “and what are they called?” “We call them Zimma-linanda and yes, all Asharrans eat them. Life would be much more difficult if we didn’t.” “Do we have to eat them?” Victor asked, What will happen to me if I don’t eat them?” “You already know that, you silly dox”, Zoe chuckled, “If we don’t eat the Zimma, we will never speed up our knowledge of the Asharran ways.” Theyna looked at Zoe and then, pausing for a second, she turned her head toward Victor, connecting her huge green eyes with his blue ones. The adolescents were silent as the alien girl took a deep deliberate breath. Suddenly she let out the largest belly laugh the Earth adolescents had ever heard. She continued to laugh so hard, the girl accidentally passed gas in front them, and the sound was all to similar to the equivalent on Earth. They all laughed together for a few moments, first due to the contagious nature of Theyna’s laugh and then due to her action until finally Victor asked the obvious question. 40

The Winds of Asharra “So what is so funny... aside from the fart, I mean.” “My oopa?” Theyna smiled, “We don’t consider it amusing, just reassuring. “I don’t understand.” Zoe said. “Can you smell it? “ asked Theyna, noticing that the humans did not have as highly developed sense as smell as she did. “She’s asking me to smell it. This has got to be a joke,” thought Victor. It took a minute or two but suddenly the Earth teenagers thought they could smell something, something faint and unfamiliar. “Something like lilacs...” Zoe exclaimed. “Maybe a little bit of sandalwood incense in there.” Victor added. “Centuries of eating these berries causes our oopahs and any zim we produce to smell like what I just did as well as help in some other ways. We still eat the berries a few times a year to maintain the effect.” Theyna explained. “But what about the ritual for getting Asharran knowledge?” Zoe asked. “And why give us these?” Victor added, pointing to the berries. “Isn’t that obvious, Victor? If Theyna’s people have a better sense of smell, our earth odors might knock them over once we started going to the bathroom.” “So you gave us these before we would go to your Osharra so we wouldn’t embarrass ourselves.” “Yes.” Theyna nodded. “You misunderstood about what I had told you before. I wanted to speak with you when I came back but I have already performed the necessary ritual to speed up your connection to Asharra..” “Without us?” asked Victor. 41

R. Leigh “Of course not. When we first arrived at the Gleestoolia I stood on the Asharran soil outside and emptied my water into it... I zeeed on the ground. My zee mixed with the soil and you walked upon it as I had planned.” “The ritual was when we walked through your zee?” Zoe exclaimed, not knowing whether to be amazed or amused. “It must have been absorbed through the soles of our feet...some sort of chemical reaction.” the earth boy theorized, sounding a bit like his father. “But I don’t feel I know anything more about Asharra...” Zoe said, “You act as though you do. “Theyna replied. “You are now thinking more than ever with your dox-mind and nishmind. You took a step toward becoming Asharran. Stepping into my zee, when mixed with Asharran soil, only opens up who you already are. Do not worry. I have not changed you. That is something that you are doing all by yourself. “ Without further comment,Theyna proceeded to make a sort of spicy soup from the vegetarian ingredients. She divided the drinking water between a large natural gourd like bowl that was to be used by all three of them for the soup and a slender one which were clearly going to be used as Asharran glassware. Victor and Zoe noted that all of them would be eating from a communal bowl sharing their drink from a single gourd and asked Theyna if this was always the Asharran way. The alien girl just laughed and added, that “always” was a word not usually applied to shallow things. Asharrans were free to create their own pottery, one plate per person or even one per food if they preferred. Some ate with their fingers while others used hardened sticks in shapes something like Earth cutlery. Individuality 42

The Winds of Asharra was the rule rather than conformity. When Victor remarked that it was too bad they couldn’t heat the soup, the nude orange girl, paused for a moment and then left the building, bowl in hand, without hardly a word, her shapely naked tezz jiggling naturally from side to side as she bounced out of the doorway. Suddenly, the adolescents heard the most amazing sound through the open holes that served as perpetually open windows and doors. Theyna was singing and after a few minutes, Victor and Zoe heard what appeared to be a counter melody, except that it wasn’t coming from Theyna. The sound seemed birdlike but with a richer and deeper range of sounds, the way a French horn has more feeling to it than a trumpet or a clarinet conveys more emotion than a flute. They ran out of the building toward the beautiful sound. By now, it was clearly a strangely beautiful duet between Theyna and some as yet unseen bird. The melody was complicated and even had some sharps and flats in it, giving it a contrasting mysterious richness every now and then. Suddenly the bird sound stopped and only the voice of their alien friend could be heard. “Must have flown away!” Zoe disappointedly remarked as she stepped outside. “Did you see it?” asked Victor as he followed, “What kind of bird was it?” “I was too late.” she replied, “but that’s not the point. Look!” She outstretched a long slender arm straight ahead, past the dusty path at their friend. Theyna stood there, naked and beautiful as ever, holding the gourd bowl in one hand by it’s natural handle. She flashy a large toothy smile at the adolescents. It took Victor a moment to realize what Zoe was making such a fuss about, that is until, he noticed the 43

R. Leigh gourd bowl. There were trails of steam rising from it. Inexplicably, they would have their hot soup after all. “If you’d rather eat out here, you’ll have to bring the water and the pilashes, (referring to Asharran cutlery), before this gets cold again. Is anything wrong?” “Far from it..” Zoe giggled, taking Victor’s hand in hers and giving it a loving squeeze. “Everything is perfect.” “The sounds.... “Victor stammered, “we heard you singing and the bird singing along, like a duet.” “Yes..” Theyna grinned. “It took me a while to learn to experience that la, but now I can invite them to make it with me. “It was a beautiful la”, Zoe nodded, the meaning of the word so obvious to her, you sang.. I mean, you made it beautifully. Theyna’s nipples blushed dark brownish-red for a second in response. “Now that’s pretty”, Victor thought to himself in a completely honest way. “I’m sorry it flew away so fast..” Theyna said as she sat down on the soft grass, not spilling any of the soup. “I’ll get the things...”Zoe chirped helpfully, not knowing the exact Asharran term for spoons. “About the soup...” the boy asked, “you made it hot.” “Don’t tell me you changed your mind.” Theyna chuckled in mock annoyance, shaking her head. “I thought you wanted it hot.” “I did.. I do but you did that so fast.” He looked around for traces of a fire, matches, a lighter .. anything. “Unless you tell me that Asharrans can shout fire out of their tezz’s, I don’t understand.” Theyna burst out laughing as Zoe returned to them, car44

The Winds of Asharra rying the spoon like implements (which she would later discover where called eckleks) in her hand. “Our tezz’s!” Theyna roared with laughter “That is a too funny... something I must remember and cherish. Thank you, Victor...Warm and Deep!” The boy looked at her and felt a strange sensation in his head as though he was hearing two voices at once. Did he hear her say “thank you” or the Asharran expression or both? “It means may your path be ...” “Enjoyable and filled with worthy thoughts and deeds..” Zoe interrupted unconsciously, shocked at hearing her own voice when she hadn’t expected to speak. “Yes, “Victor added. “I remember now... I mean I know it means many things, like Aloha does on Earth. You use it like Thank you, You’re welcome, Good night or Good Bye.” Theyna nodded silently. The adolescents didn’t need any further explanation. They really were absorbing bits of Asharran culture by walking through her zee, mixed with the red soil of Asharra. The Doing had worked. “Warm and Deep.” Victor repeated to Zoe, for no apparent reason other than the fact it was perfectly appropriate to do. It was the true thing to do. “Warm and Deep.” she replied. “And Never Empty” , adding the traditional ending to the fuller version of the wish. “It really is working.” the 18 year old beamed with joy as she felt the importance of what was happening with her nish-mind. “We’re becoming more like Asharran.” “I don’t think I will ever want to go to a shopping mall,” Theyna replied, shocking the two earth adolescents. “A mall... how do you know about.. of course.. you 45

R. Leigh walked through Zoe’s zee earlier today!” “Yes, I suppose I did,” Theyna answered, quite puzzled at the result. This was not something she had intended or planned. Yet, a lack of planning was the true Asharran Way. Those who follow the Path of Asha often find their lives filled with bursts of odd serendipity, where coincidences or results are a total but wonderful surprise to all involved. In this case, effects were obviously working both ways. The Earth adolescents were absorbing something of Theyna and the alien girl was gaining knowledge from Zoe. They finished the bowl of hearty soup as Victor and Zoe realized they were becoming more in tune with Asharran culture. Yet, for Theyna, it was a slightly different experience. Not only was she now getting empathic flashes of Earth thanks to Zoe, she was also feeling a deep bond to the little Earth nish. She was feeling as though Zoe was a sibling and, never having had a younger birth sister, the thought made her very happy. It was the first time that any Asharran, for that matter, had a younger birth sibling as the Asharran way was quite different. All of their young were born as twins, triplets or quadruplets and had a deep psychic connection with the other siblings born in the same group, moments apart. Ignoring the few moments, all of the birth siblings were the same age. No one had a birth sister or brother who was younger or older. If their parents had another group of children (which did occasionally happen though most Asharrans were content to experience parenthood just once) the next batch, though technically related since they had the same parents, lacked the extra bond with any of the first batch. They were all Asharrans and connected but there was something additional between birth-siblings. “Amazing”, the slender Asharran nymph felt, as the images and feelings entered both of her minds, swirling in a 46

The Winds of Asharra confusing pattern of shapes, sounds and impressions.”I feel Asha today in a new and wonderful way”, she thought to herself, referring to the great invisible force which flowed through everything in the universe. “ She closed her eyes for a moment and made two gestures with each of her hands, straight first, then round. First with one hand and then with the other. It appeared a little like Earth sign language but it only took a minute for Zoe to recognize it, even if the angle was odd and the fact that both gestures were being made with the same hand. Straight then round. Two fingers held upright followed by a circle made from all of the fingers. “Do you get it?” Zoe giggled. “Yes,” he replied. “the signs are for male and female, dox and nish.” The completed gesture then became a one handed fist placed between Theyna’s naked shalas. “Asha is all around us and in everything. “she explained. “We are each Asha alone and together. The sha, the energy moving in our bodies connects all of us. It flows and moves ... the Ah.... “Then Asharrans are actually... the Ah-Sha, those within the power of the universe flows.” “But Asharra also means the Home around us.” Zoe unexpectedly recalled aloud, “the name of the planet... the world.” “You’re beginning to feel the truth inside you. “Theyna nodded, “Your Sha has warmed and flows freely.” The Doing was working its apparent magic and it was working both ways. Now familiar with some Earth terms without needing to be told, Theyna pointed toward her Earth sister, and said. “I am connected to everyone whether or not it flies or 47

R. Leigh creeps or swims, pops up from the ground or sits quietly. worn down by the winds of Asharra. The Sha flows through all, different in all by still the same.” “Atoms.. molecules... quantum psychics..” Victor chuckled to himself as his studies echoed in his head, but now in a new way, infinitely more real, more true. “My energy is closer to yours”, said Theyna, “placing her hand in Zoe’s. “The only thing closer would be the complete harmony between Asharrans who are mates.” The Earth nish smiled at her new big sister. She felt it too. She not only had a friend on the strange planet. She now had an older sister. She embraced the older girl and there was clear joy in her hug. A sea of jostled images passed through their minds, a transferring of cultures and concepts. While the Asharran feelings and knowings were being absorbed by the both of the Earth teenagers, since they had both walked through the zee-soil mixture, Theyna only was receiving memories from Zoe, since Victor had not relieved himself on the ground in front of the reed building. The Asharran girl now had her first opportunities to become confused and disoriented at seeing and feeling Earth culture through Zoe’s eyes. “I see you playing with something white and.... very... cold...” “Snow!” Zoe exclaimed, “I used to love snowball fights and making snowpeople and watching the lights of the cars turn the piles of snow into huge diamonds.” The alien girl had no idea what cars where as they were not in her flash but she felt something... a snowball in hand. It was wet and squishy and hard at the same time. “It’s water...” she finally said as though the mystery of the universe had been revealed to her. “Snow is water which is resting and the Sha still flows through it!” 48

The Winds of Asharra Tears rolled down her cheeks as she felt the snow in her nish-mind. She imagined running through it, changing the image of wearing some kind of confining Earth covering, the image in her minds, to running naked in the snow. That was something she could relate to, experiencing the world through her entire body. Inches from her, Zoe felt like she was the middle of winter and she was running outside as naked as she actually was now. Theyna had not finished exploring her feeling of Earth things when the little Earth nish felt the reinterpreted feeling from the Asharran. The girls laughed as they realized they were having a snowball fight, somehow hurling thoughts and emotions at each other in as vivid and real a manner as an Earth snow ball fight would be. Their Sha flowed between them as its nature blended into a form that was increasingly common to both. Yet, in an instant the sensation sharing and thought swapping was over. Their nish-minds had raised a temporary barrier between them signaling that the intensity and personal nature of the inner communication between them was so intense that it could only exist for short bursts. A longer duration could do permanent harm to either of the adolescents, at least at this point. Victor continued to receive more generic flashes, insights into Asharran thought and culture even after the link between the girls was severed. He struggled to force himself to analyze the speedy blur of virtual reality zooming past his minds. The boy tried to balance both his dox-mind and his head-mind to absorb as much as he could but this was still too new to him and too powerful. He concluded he would have to let his subconscious deal with the details and remember them. It was his inner nature, his dox-mind that was struggling to keep up with the stream of images, feel49

R. Leigh ings and thoughts.. It was extremely difficult even though he was missing all of the subtext and personalization which Zoe was receiving. Suddenly, three of them were abruptly interrupted from their experiences, shared and otherwise by a sound that was extremely familiar to one of them. Theyna bolted to her bare feet and scurried back to the shack as quickly as she could. “Oh no...”she said hurriedly, “I forgot my part of the bargain... wait for me here!” Victor and Zoe looked at her dumbfounded. Before she was even out of sight, the sound became louder. Actually, it was not only louder, it had more additional sounds joining it. It had brought friends. “The birds!” Zoe exclaimed. “They’ve come back...and this time we won’t miss it.. come on.” Like a naked wood sprite in some old fairy tale, Zoe sprung forward and ran in the opposite direction of the Asharran rest stop, down the path and out of sight. “Wait for me!”, Victor yelled, using his best cliche voice. Even though she had less than a minute’s head start on him, Zoe had already increased the lead over him in this impromptu race. Perhaps because he thought she was being silly, Victor wasn’t attempting to chase after at top speed. He instead followed at a fast but not his fastest speed. They were off the path and there were a few small hills every fifteen or twenty feet, obscuring view from each other as they ran. The sounds of the birds was getting louder. It was odd and beautiful, complicated and primal all at the same time like some kind of half crazed symphony. Victor imaged that a group of French horn players was running through the forest...no clarinets...no oboes... it kept changing. Finally he heard a sound he could clearly identify. He heard 50

The Winds of Asharra Zoe scream. Summoning up any strength in his legs, Victor increased his pace, all the while attempting not to lose his balance. “Zoe! “ he yelled.... “I’m coming...are you ok!” “Hurry!!” she yelled. The symphonic noise was almost ear shattering now as Victor scrambled over the last hill and looked over the other side. There... Zoe was lying on the ground, turning part way over, the blades of yellow-brown grass poking up all around her legs, tezz and shalas. She shook one of her bare feet rapidly, trying to wish something would go away. Victor stopped at the top of the hill and saw she was surrounded by a flock of birds some sitting on the ground all around her, others flapping their wings overhead. No. thats not right. The noise was making it hard to think straight. The music was getting faster and faster as though led by some crazed conducted. Their song as anxious and maybe even angry. And more than that, they weren’t even birds. “Dragons....” Victor gulped in shocked. Dozens of small dragons were swarming around Zoe and they were not happy. It was surreal. The creatures made such beautiful music but obviously were not birds. They were they creatures that were legends of old on Earth. You know the kind, the huge monstrous fire-breathing kind of legends. They were surrounded by the cousins of the arm chewing, leg swallowing beasts of legend and they didn’t look happy. Sure, they might be smaller than legends ranging from a couple of feet long to something that would fit in the palm of your hand. Maybe they were baby dragons. That would be no small consolation if they could breathe fire or eat you and spit out your bones. Baby dragons still had teeth.. it was like a pack of wild dogs, being surrounded by a pack of wild dragon dogs. 51

R. Leigh A sound carved through the chaos and everybody turned their head to listen and look at its source all at once, Victor, Zoe...even the horde of angry dragons. It was Theyna and she was singing to them. She made a la for them. She invited them and made the la sweet and apologetic, kind and pure and true. And the dragons joined in. Every last one of the little beasts stopped looking at Zoe and Victor and began to add harmony and counterpoint to Theyna’s song. It rose and fell, slow then fast, sharp and staccato one more and gliding into soft lullaby a moment later. The dragons keep pace, ever making the song more complex. At first they were all like a brass section, adding strong angry notes. Then they were woodwinds, lilting and soaring along with the music, far above their heads. That is what they were really doing. By now, all of the dragons were in the air, circling around and around again and again, weaving and bobbing to the complex rhythms of the song, of the song the beautiful orange skinned nymph was signing. She was making them happy. She was making a la with them but there was one more thing. She opened up a brown dried up box, which looked like it was made of Earth rattan or wicker, reached in and tossed a handful of the contents into the air. Again and again she did this until the box was empty. Again and again the air was temporarily filled with shiny stones of all colors... shiny stones,some of which could easily have been diamonds, emeralds and other jewels on Earth. In the blink of an eye, the dragonlings were snatching up the stones in the air and carrying them off, leaving the scene. Only now, feeling quite safe danger were Victor and Zoe able to get a good look at the creatures. Yes, they were definitely dragons, all of the right body parts were there....long sinuous torso covered with scales, 52

The Winds of Asharra shiny scales. Most of the dragons were red and about the same approximate size, about a foot long. Here and there, though, there were others of different colors and those were the odd ones.. they were either much larger than the red ones or really small, like something that would fit in the palm of your hand. Finally, the last one had snatched up his prize and the three adolescents were alone in the woods once again. “That always happens when you forget to give them the shiny stones,” she sighed. Instead of getting angry, the older girl started to laugh, slapping her knew with the palm of her hand. “What is it?” Zoe asked. “I only asked one for help but he must be very persuasive to bring his whole family to help argue for him when he thought I wasn’t keeping my part of the helping. “ “I’m missing something.” Victor said. “You’ve lost me...” “There’s your oven....”she giggled. “You wanted the soup hot. Theyna just had to pop it into the microwave....” “Our microwaves have four feet, a tail and wings...” Theyna smiled, now joining in on the joke, actually feeling it for the first time. “I like ours better.” Victor grumbled. “I don’t know.” smiled Zoe. “They were kind of cute.” “So they really breathe fire?” “That’s only when they sneeze.” Theyna explained. “Normally, they can produce steam, very warm steam from their mouths which can be very helpful sometimes. “We always had myths of dragons on Earth.” “Dreegins.” Theyna corrected. The Earth adolescents stared at her. “On Asharra we call them Dreegins and they are usu53

R. Leigh ally very happy and playful. They wouldn’t hurt anyone and their music is the primary source of inspiration of all of Asharran music. They show us how to make the basic la and we enjoy our clumsy attempts to mimic them.” “But your singing was beautiful.” Victor said, “the most amazing voice I ever heard.” Victor was silent for a moment before he asked an obvious question. The similarity was too close for coincidence. “You call them dreegins... we call them dragons in our legends. How can than that be?” “You can feel the answer yourself, “ Theyna smiled. “Search your dox mind.” Victor’s face went ashen grey as the blood drained from his face. “We aren’t the first Earth people to come to Asharra and others must have gone back in order for them to remember the name...and at least get something right about the dragons... the dreegins... but how did they go back home?” Victor asked. “And Why?” Zoe added. “Why would they go back? What do you know about this, Theyna?” The Asharran nish looked at them quizzically. Her three dark triangles of black fur seemed to quiver for a moment as her body involuntarily shuddered with surprise. “ I know that the Asharra-dobar brought you here?” “The little box...the artifact.” Zoe added. “I’ve never heard it called that but yes, that is how you came here. That is how everyone comes here.” “Everyone?” Victor exclaimed loudly. “Yes, Victor.” the alien nish replied. “There are other beings on Asharra right now, Iramu, who were not born on Asharra.” 54

The Winds of Asharra Victor shook his head in a combination of frustration and surprise. He was angry at himself for not attempting to ask these obvious questions when they first met Theyna. He had become too swept along by the warmth and sensuality around him. Given his father’s scientific background and his constant attempts to install a logical methodology in his son, it was usually natural for Victor to prioritize and organize his thoughts. Instead, he had somehow managed to somehow avoid the real questions surrounding their arrival on Asharra. He did not fully realize that the real reason for this was the progressive internal change in his priorities since his arrival with Zoe. His dox-mind, the seat of his creativity, passion and individuality was gainer greater influence over him, as unsettling as when his hormones had first kicked in just before he had entered his teen years. The difference was that this time, the various sides of his personality were battling for dominance and Victor wasn’t entirely certain which one to encourage. The additional sudden introduction of the Asharran concepts into his brain, as a result of stepping in Theyna’s zee, only made matters more confusing since so much was contrary to what he had been taught. If it seemed that he was suddenly befuddled, it was because he was desperately trying to absorb the flash of new insights that now reverberated in his head. For example, To Asharrans, there was no concept of right and wrong. Things were either true to one’s inner self or they were shallow or they were empty. If something was shallow, it contained some measure of truth but was either in itself not as important or not as appropriate for the situation. Emptiness was defined as silliness if minor or illness if major. To an Asharran, such things as bigotry, envy and hatred would be signs of illness just clearly as any disease. 55

R. Leigh If done for a moment or by accident it was forgiven by all. Yet, when expressed to excess as anger, rage, disgust, prejudice or fear, the silliness was a warning signal. If not immediately corrected (without condemnation) it was a state of being to pity rather than match in hate. It was a condition to cure, not one to punish or condemn. There was no sin of any kind. Illness was to be cured and those ill were not to be blamed in any way. In general, Asharrans felt all things passionately rather than coldly analyzing them. Shallow thinking was done with the head-mind. It told told the individual if they were thirsty, for example. The corresponding nish or dox mind, however, would not only tell the individual how they felt about this condition, it then attempted to apply this feeling to a larger scale. Were your neighbors thirsty? Was there a danger of drought? How could each individual help? Each person would feel their connection to all of Asharra and not ignore others on the planet. What would the effect be on rocks, plants or animals? Every Asharran felt passionately on every level, first about the state of their inner mind, the Ishanna, then their home, village or city, the Osharra and finally , their entire world, Asharra. One felt individually, locally globally at the same time and it all happened automatically. Given a world where competition was unknown and cooperation was the norm, it was far less likely for greed and jealousy to take hold. If the local community, the Osharra, discovered that an individual lacked something of importance, it was remedied as best as possible. If an entire community suffered in some way through some natural disaster, which was rare but did still happen, the neighboring communities would assist and restore the level of balance and eliminate the scarcity as best they could, which would 56

The Winds of Asharra be defined as equalizing their state to that of the needy, giving until there was equilibrium. There were no impoverished areas or gaps between the haves and have nots. When something arose in this vein on the individual or the local level. all Asharrans joined in the resolve it. In this way they were naturally compassionate since there was no difference between their pain and that of their neighbor. They were all Asharra... even the animals, plants and the very stones upon the ground. As they absorbed the information, Victor and Zoe were amazed. They concluded that the longer this system was in effect, the more it worked, for individuals, the society and the planet itself. Strange serendipitous events and conditions were apparently also the norm. Extremes of temperature once existed on the planet but no longer. All meat eaters either became vegetarians or disappeared. The planet now appeared to be improving itself just as its lifeforms but on a larger and slower planetary scale. It was as though the process became more efficient once the smaller components, the creatures on the planet started joining in and working towards a common goal. Even if they didn’t feel they weren’t doing anything in particular, when the Asharrans reached a certain level of harmony, it was like a rock rolling down hill. It picked up speed. Yet, the analogy was different for the Asharrans because only then, when the rock forgot about its fear of falling down the hill and began to freely fall and not even think about it, did it realize, moment by moment, that it had not hit the bottom. There was never anything to worry about since there was never a bottom to the hill. The hill was Asharra and it was round. Your intentions, when true, could orbit the world. When you stopped fighting yourself and decided to “go with the flow” you discovered, that like the rock, like the planet itself, you 57

R. Leigh would not fall. You could fly. The rock called Asharra was flying through the blackness of space, never falling, never empty and always true. Once life on Asharra achieved a certain level of trueness and balance, its fear of falling dissolved and they realized they were all the rock. They were all the water. They were all the sky. They sat and flowed and flew. They were all Asharra and felt the warmth of its breezes. It baffled Zoe and Victor how such things could have arisen and Victor especially wondered if evolution on Asharra had taken some strange natural turn or whether it was somehow getting a helping hand. All of these thoughts swirling through Victor’s minds as the 18 year old dox pondered the most recent events on Asharra. No, he wasn’t to blame for his actions or his inactions. He concluded, based on this new Asharran insight in his head, that he wasn’t even being shallow or silly in any way. He had been true. From the moment he stepped on Asharra, even when he had doubts, he was being true. There was an old Asharran saying that explained that curves were always better than straight lines because they were natural and unpredictable. You never knew which way they would go next but as long as you trusted in yourself and in them, that was no imaginary fear. All of the paths on Asharra, the cleared walkways between Osharras were winding curvy paths that took as many detours around rocks and streams and hills as necessary. Never once would the concept of blasting straight through just to create a straight line viewed as true by an Asharran. It would be silly and shallow. It would spoil the journey, which was as at least as important as the destination, if not even more. Perhaps it was even more important . Victor looked over his shoulder at the widening path behind him which led back to the Gleestoolia, the little reed shack. He couldn’t 58

The Winds of Asharra see the building from where he stood because a series of hills stood between him and the building. Since there was no longer any threat from the dreegins, he would eventually return to the building with Zoe and go slow enough to enjoy the sights this time. The real threat was gone. When he walked the path again, he would appreciate the hills for shielding him from his destination. The Asharran philosophy of life, their way of life practiced with as little conscious thought as possible was incorporated into even into what they built. The path to Theyna’s Osharra was a long twisty curve. “I’d be happy to tell you what I do know.” Theyna said, snapping the boy back to the present moment. “Yes and take your time... there is no rush.” Victor said wisely. The naked orange skinned girl sat back down upon the grass and the earth nish and dox followed a moment later. “The device as you call it, the Asharra-dobar, which brought you here was only one of several. By your own definition, I do not know if it is really a device, since we do not make them, we decorate them.” “Please explain,” Victor smiled. “There is a kibur, what you would call a lake, near an Osharra to the East of here. The Asharra-dobar periodically float to the surface of the lake. After they eventually float closer to the shore, our craftsmen, our lu’s, retrieve the cubes and carve designs on them.” “Why?” Victor asked, in a serious tone, hoping to discover at least one secret today. “They are pretty either way but it somehow connects us to them.” “Like adding a flag or a symbol for a country.” the boy added. 59

R. Leigh “No”, answered Theyna, “more like how you would play with clay at school and bring it home to your parents”, getting the analogy from her nish-mind and her sister Zoe’s Earth memories. “I don’t know exactly what they are or how they are made, but we decorate them just as we would make a la with the dreegins. It connects us.” “Then what happens?” asked Zoe. Theyna’s eyes widened and she lifted up her hand, as though to make some important statement, punctuating it with a dramatic pose. She scratched her naked orange tezz, smiled innocently and proceeded t speak. “Nothing. Nothing happens next. That’s all we do.” “But what about the Asharra-dobar? “Zoe wondered out loud, “What happens to them? And how and why do they bring people, nishs and doxs to Asharra?” “I don’t have all of the answers.” Theyna replied apologetically but I know of an elder, a Rohulu in my Osharra. I already told you he could answer your questions. His name is Roqueetalu and he is probably your best chance for answers outside of Yavaran.” “Yavaran. Where is that?” Victor inquired, wondering how far away it was. Theyna giggled quietly, “Yavaran is not an Osharra. She is a nish just like me, but much older and wiser. She lives off by herself , where I do not know. “She’s a hermit?” Victor remarked. “She’s lives apart. She has a single Osharra of one.” “But that is still weird, right?” Zoe wondered aloud, even for Asharrans. “There are no absolutes. We are all free to do that if we wish. Some Asharrans might disappear for a time and live totally apart from the rest, either with their family or alone 60

The Winds of Asharra but almost all of them eventually have some contact with other Osharras. Some prefer small Osharras and other ‘s might enjoy larger ones but all are carried along together.” “City mice and Country mice.” Zoe smiled to Victor. “The boy nodded to her with a satisfied grin. “So I guess we should talk to the other one first since he’s closer?” “Yes, I was going to take you to Roqueetalu .I knew you had many questions about our ways and that would include the Asharra-dobar.” Theyna stood up and looked at the sky. The purple hue was now getting more blue with streaks of red. The yi, the lesser sun was now shining without being overshadowed by the larger ya, its counterpart. It looked a little like Earth twilight but the Zoe figured correctly that it would appear this way for quite a while and never go completely dark before it would brighten again. There was never truly night on Asharra. “We will visit Roqueetalu later today..” Theyna said matter of factly, The earth nish and dox paused for a moment, temporarily disoriented. They thought they were going tomorrow. That is, until they remembered that Asharrans viewed time differently. There was never a tomorrow...only later today. Neither sun set completely. It was always today. They always lived today. “We should sleep soon. I’m sure you too wish to fremm each other.” Theyna said bluntly, divulging that the sexual tension between the Earth couple appeared not only obvious but natural to her. Zoe blushed and Victor grinned a bit more than he had planned. Whether or not Theyna was feeling her Earth sister’s feelings through their shared nish-mind link or 61

R. Leigh whether it was really that obvious didn’t matter. “Ah.... one more thing about that....” Zoe said with an odd tone in her young voice. “We’ll need protection.” “You do not wish to co-create children at this time?” “No”, Victor and Zoe said together. “You still have a long time to decide even after”, Theyna said casually. Zoe was shocked. She was only 18 but she wasn’t considering abortion in any way. No, she wanted protection. “This might be something you both can feel,” Theyna said, referring to their new zee inspired knowledge. “Search your feelings for the answer.” Zoe and Victor held hands and closed their eyes, not to concentrate but instead, the reverse, to clear their minds and close their head-minds as much as possible. As if by magic, their nish and dox minds spoke to them of Asharran ways. If the couple were completely sure that they did not want children before they fremmed, it made them infertile until they both changed their minds. There was no danger of accidental or unwanted pregnancy. The other part which Theyna spoke about was a bit more complicated. If the couple were not completely sure if they wanted to be parents, but wanted to leave open the possibility, they fremmed with this deep feeling. Depending on how deep the feelings were and what percentage of the mutual feelings tilted toward the positive, the nish would eventually begin to experience symptoms of pregnancy, swollen shalas, a changed appetite and eventually the first glimmer of a change of her shape and size of her stomach. If the couple decided at that point that they really did want children, the pregnancy continued and the children were born, a group of two, three sometimes four. If 62

The Winds of Asharra however, the couple decided against proceeding in this direction, the swelling of the shalas, the odd appetite and even the growing belly would revert to what it had been before. Yet, instead of an abortion, all that would have happened is that the preparations for pregnancy would have been reversed. No fetus was involved at that point. Zoe wondered what would happen if one of more of the couple delayed their decision or if they were unable to jointly decide if they were separated somehow. The answer appeared in the greater minds and both she and Victor immediately knew the answer. When Theyna spoke of a long time to decide, she was actually being more true than either Victor or Zoe thought, If no decision was made, the process merely paused and waited indefinitely for a resolution, Zoe wondered if that meant perpetual morning sickness if she couldn’t make up her mind. In this way, Theyna was only saying that it was easier if the couple could decide what they wanted before they fremmed. If not, there was an infinite amount of time afterwards, although the nish who was fremmed would exhibit some body changes that might definitely be uncomfortable for a protracted period of time, “How do we do this?” Zoe asked. “The same as we do, “ the alien girl replied, “Victor inserts his dox ...” “I know that part”, Zoe giggled , looking forward it all, “I mean about the children.. how do we tell my body that we don’t want to be parents yet?” “Silly nish.” Theyna smiled. “We all do that automatically.” “Are you sure you still want to sleep out here?” Victor asked. 63

R. Leigh “Hey Vic,” Zoe whispered, “Theyna offered to give us some privacy.” “No I didn’t”, replied the Asharran, “I said I would sleep outside since there was no room inside.” “So, if there was room...” Victor asked. “It would be entirely your choice whether or not you would like me to watch.” “Now, I didn’t see THAT one coming, “the Earth dox laughed. “You people are even more open-minded than I thought. “I think we’ll do it in private this time.” Zoe smiled. “If you have no further questions on fremming or offspring I do have one request before we go to sleep.” Theyna said. “I would like to declare my friendship to both of you in the Asharran way.” “What do you want us to do?” asked Victor with a gulp in his voice “The Doing will be brief and quite painless .” She laughed sensing his apparent apprehension. Theyna then faced each of the teenagers and performed the brief Asharran Doing on each of them. In each case, the actions were the same. She first approached Victor, placing the fingers of her right hand together and pressing them on his forehead, just above his eyes. “I honor your inside and your lesser mind.” she recited. The wide eyed Asharran then unexpectedly cupped her fingers together and placed them around his darana’s, which hung between his legs, an act which at first surprised the teenager because of its intimacy. “I honor your outside and your greater dox-mind.” she smiled. She then repeated the brief ritual with Zoe, reciting the same words while having her hand located over her fore64

The Winds of Asharra head and between her legs. The pair of Earth adolescents indicated their willingness to reciprocate, and without any great fanfare, performed the Asharran Doing on their orange skinned friend as well as each other. Their friendship overcame any feelings of awkwardness towards the Asharran. “May I also declare myself your sister?” Theyna asked Zoe. The brown haired earth nish had no objections, so when Theyna outstretched her arms, her sister-to-be immediately stepped towards her. The psychic link between their nishminds opened again and as the palms of their hands touched each other, the flood of images and sounds and memories started to flow between them. Zoe wondered if fremming Victor would be like this, now that they were on Asharra, adding almost mystical element to their lovemaking. Zoe did not realize that her mind had wondered as she touched Theyna’s palms. She certainly did not even consider that her thoughts and feelings regarding Victor were automatically be shared and transmitted to Theyna. The alien girl received the images and sensations but from her own perspective. Without any intention, she experienced those intimate thoughts, except with herself as the recipient. She pictured Victor fremming her. From Victor’s perspective, he only saw them standing motionless, touching the palms of their hands. He correctly assumed that feelings and memories were passing through them but he never dreamed that the subject of those feelings had involuntarily changed and they were now coexperiencing something about him. He didn’t think anything was wrong. Even when he saw the legs on both nishs start to shake at the knees, causing them to wobble, he thought everything was fine. Theyna and Zoe embraced 65

R. Leigh each other in order to keep from falling down and to prevent the psychic link from being broken. The images and thoughts were bouncing back and forth faster now. They were still experiencing a shared dream of individually fremming Victor at the same time as trading experiences in their pasts about life on Asharra and Earth. Any thought that crossed their mind, regardless of priority, likelihood or preference was being laid bare and passed between them. They were becoming as close as real Asharran birthsiblings,who had few secrets and were frequently able to share feelings and thoughts of an intimate nature. The link continued to grow stronger as they held their held their nude bodies tighter together. Their sha was harmonizing and pulsating, practically throbbing inside them from head to toe. The two nishs then began to twitch as they stood their in each others arms. Something was wrong but Victor did not immediately realize it. He assumed that was all part of the Doing, that they could break the link at any time and that everything could be fine. That was the exact opposite of the reality of the situation. There had never been a birth-sibling between an Asharran and someone from Earth before. This level of link had never been attempted. It was lopsided with Theyna having more control and that was upsetting the balance. Something was definitely wrong. Theyna and Zoe stood there, locked in an embrace ,with their eyes wide open. They were in a trance state, a deep trance called Moodlim, a trance which could wonderful or fatal. They were helpless now, learning everything about each other, feeling everything but not being able to stop. To Zoe, it was like being on a merry-go-round that was spinning faster and faster. She was finally able to will her mouth to open. She wanted to yell for Victor, to tell him that something was wrong. to 66

The Winds of Asharra get him to make it stop. The feeling bounced to Theyna who opened her mouth to shout. Neither child could make a sound and the link intensified, drawing their sha together and tying it in knots. It continued to draw their bodies closer and pulled their open mouth toward each other. Still experiencing each others feelings and losing the ability to distinguish themselves as separate individuals , the girls helplessly looked into each others eyes and locked their lips together. Without their own consent, they kissed deeply as if trying to obliterate each other and blend into one single person. It looked passionate but Victor still was not sure if anything was wrong. He considered himself open-minded and wondered if such things were common among Asharran sisters, oblivious to their physical danger. They were sharing all of their private thoughts and feelings by now. It wasn’t clear to them who or what they were. It was wonderful and incredible as they recalled and traded memories of happy moments and sexual pleasures but something was very wrong. They sighed happily as they kissed and pressed their nude bodies tightly together but they couldn’t make it stop and it was killing them. When Victor began to see some trickles of blood emerging from beneath the girls’ fingernails, he finally realized that something had gone wrong. Asharrans were not sadists or masochists in any way. They did not knowingly cause or receive pain as pleasure. The sounds they were making were now more muted cries of pain than pleasure. Still they tried pull each other closer even if it meant killing each other. Victor didn’t know what to do.. He tried to pull them apart. He shouted. He begged them to stop. Nothing worked. He shouted again and again until his words made no sense. Just before he thought he would collapse to the ground and watch them perish, Victor heard something 67

R. Leigh other than the sound of the girls whimpering. First it was faint in the background, then in grew louder and louder until it shattered the connection between the girls. Without warning, they separated their embrace and slowly bent their knees and gently fell to the grass below, as if falling asleep. A flock of dreegins circling above changed the la they were making into something of a sweet lullaby. The small creatures had saved the two nishs’ lives with their soft musical cries. Amazingly, the trickles of blood faded and vanished. Frustrated expressions were replaced by serene ones of Theyna and Zoe’s face and all appeared normal. Finally, the little dreegins stopped making their la and without warning, Theyna and Zoe awoke from their trance. Victor’s relief and happiness immediately returned to horror and shock as the two nishs once again embraced each other. “It’s all right”, Zoe smiled. “We’re fine now..” She released Theyna from her relieved and quite intentional hug. “She is my big sister now.” “But the ceremony... it looked like you two were going to....” “Yes”, Theyna frowned. “That should not have happened that way. It is something to do with the differences between us.” It sounded at first like she meant anatomical differences between beings from Asharra and those from Earth but Victor guessed she might be speaking of the development of Zoe’s nish-mind and the comparison between that and Theyna’s own. She was simply too strong for the link. They hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact nothing had gone wrong. It was the expected reaction if the siblings were so lopsided, something never before the case on Asharra. 68

The Winds of Asharra “I have learned something new about sibling-links today.” Theyna said, getting up from her feet. “I will sleep well tonight. Warm and Deep, you too.” Victor was dumbfounded as he saw Theyna walk off away from them, presumably going to gather some leaves to make a pile to in which to sleep. She seemed to have fully recovered and dismissed the incident once it was over. “How much do you remember?” the teenager asked Zoe. “Parts of it are fuzzy but a warm nice kind of fuzzy. All that happened was that I wasn’t strong enough or Theyna was too strong or we linked too soon. It doesn’t matter. The experience was worth it.” “You sound just like Theyna.” Victor said, honestly confused at Zoe’s new point of view. “You think so? I guess I do. Maybe I’m just taking after my big sister. Come on, let’s get back to the rest stop. We’re going to have a busy day tomorrow and we need to continue what we were doing earlier. That experience left very hungry, if you know what I mean.” Almost on cue, the adolescents heard a familiar sound, a few of the dreegins were still there, flying overhead and now making a la that almost sounded sweet and sexy at the same time. “Background music.” Victor laughed. “We found the CD player!” added Zoe. “I just hope we have enough shiny stones to last . “ Victor said nothing but noted to himself that the dreegins were acting differently than last time. They weren’t demanding any shiny stones as payment or in exchange for their services. In Earth terms, they had done this for free. Either they felt the seriousness and the danger and acted accordingly or maybe they were looking out for 69

R. Leigh them. Victor didn’t know exactly what to believe but he was sure of one thing. His attitude toward the dreegins had changed. They had gone from being frightening at the beginning to something he appreciated for what it was. They were natural and caring and that made them Asharran. The pair of Earth teenagers strolled back to the Gleestoolia and enjoyed the lush Asharran plant life as they lazily walked along the path. Most of the nearby plants were yellow, brown, or orange but they could see a few bright red bushes of different sizes further into the forest. The combination of colors made it look like fall on Earth but it felt more like Earth spring or maybe early summer. As Theyna had said that the temperature did not vary that much. Gesturing toward the red bushes in the distance, Zoe said, “ Those are Zishasoma-dreego, Dragon Fire Bushes, the exclusive spot (preferred whenever available) where the Dreegins made their nests. The knowledge had come from the link. Victor thought about running off for a moment to observe the little creatures in their native habitat, now that his respect for the little beasts had grown sufficiently to regard them as friend and one-time protector. His innate scientific curiosity was something that had been developed from his studies thanks to his father’s influence. “There will be a better time later.” he thought to himself, wanting to focus on one thing at a time. It was a skill Victor still had to practice since he was often polyphasic, doing several things at once, splitting his attention in as many compartments as necessary in order to do the jobs at hand. His father was an even worse example of this. The Professor was an expert at it, often dividing his time between reading an article on the Internet, exchanging notes and thoughts via email and chat as well as speaking real time to a student or two in his office. Yes, occasionally he 70

The Winds of Asharra would mix things up a little, calling the student by the wrong name, or using the student’s name in the email when it should have been a colleague’s name instead. Up until this moment, Victor had even admired his father’s ability to juggle so many things at once and keep the near collisions to an absolute minimum. Now, even after this amount of time on Asharra, he was beginning to regard this very differently. He now concluded that his father had refined an inappropriate response to an art, so that he could be as inefficiently incorrect as possible, enabling him to be even more incorrect, more fragmented and more shallow. Victor decided that you could still love science without doing this. In fact, he was no longer thinking in such concrete terms, dividing up science itself into neat little packages and labeling everything with an “-ology” at the end. No, the only earth science that got it even partially correct (even though it was an “ology” itself) was anthropology since it studied different cultures. From his studies and reading his father’s books and papers, Victor recalled that Cultural Anthropology analyzed many components of a group .. its religion, legal systems, language, customs, kinship definitions and more to understand them. There were hundreds of cultures on Earth corresponding to different nationalities, religions, political parties and special interest groups. Yet on Asharra it was different. The new knowledge he had absorbed told him beings here were Asharran in every way ethnically, physically, philosophically , everything. They spoke and laughed and walked and slept as Asharrans. They even considered the animals on the planet to be fellow Asharrans as well. Part of that sounded vaguely familiar to Victor. He had dabbled a small amount of comparative religious studies, curious about beliefs from far away places on Earth, religions different than the one he 71

R. Leigh was accidentally born into, religions that seemed more in harmony with life on Earth. Faiths such as Taoism, Hinduism and Buddhism, for example, all had the wisdom of acknowledging the need to become part of the natural world, an equal part, rather than trying to pretend to were apart from it and to take dominion over it, as though natural meant weak or stupid. None of the earth religions seemed to look at things exactly like the Asharrans but many, including the ones from Asia to the Wiccans and the American Indians had pieces of the Asharran Way embedded in them. Victor chuckled to himself that perhaps, someone from Asharra or several someone’s had planted those seeds in a handful of the Earth cultures and even half remembered or distorted, some of those seeds had taken root in spite of narrow minded visions of an anthropomorphic monotheistic God who threw down lightning bolts when he was angry or flooded the world if he hadn’t had his nap. It wasn’t even clear to Victor if the Asharrans had a word for religion. It seemed more likely that Asharra was both the term for home and planet and people and religion all combined into one. Asharra was a noun and a verb and a way of Life. More and more, Victor felt in his dox-mind, that he was Asharran or at least followed their way. He was beginning to be carried by the Winds of Asharra. The warm breeze under the now slightly darker purple sky (now streaked with blue) against their naked bodies made Victor and Zoe feel warm and safe. As they walked along the winding path toward the reed house, the adolescents exchanged feelings on how comfortable they had suddenly become under the purple sky. They had both become so accustomed to going naked all of the time, they agreed that wearing clothes would be difficult when they ever returned to Earth. The teenagers joked they would be 72

The Winds of Asharra nudists whenever and wherever possible. If they had to wear clothes they would be loose and not confining. Shoes would be replaced by sandals whenever even remotely possible and sandals would give way to natural bare feet for the same reason, whenever there wasn’t a sign prohibiting it. Victor said that he would give up underwear entirely, now accustomed to having his dox and his darana’s swinging freely. Zoe was a little more cautious here, agreeing that she would never wear a bra again (she really didn’t need one) but not so sure about foregoing panties. Victor said he didn’t care but Zoe quietly reminded him that back on Earth, very few people had Asharran ideas, at least in that area. She did surprise him by saying that she wouldn’t shave her body. The natural look wasn’t especially popular on Earth at that time, so the comment surprised the teenager. “You’d be a hairy little nish.” he chuckled to Zoe. “That’s right...”she giggled in a mischievous way, “just like the other animals.” “What about a beard for me?” Victor suggested. “Maybe”, she replied, “but I think that a mustache might look dashing on you. It would be attractive, especially since some day you might be bald.” Victor frowned. He had never thought of that. It was not the kind of thing a 18 year old worried about. Still, come to think of it, his father was balding. Unfortunately, Zoe was probably right about his long term future in this department. “I’ll love you just as much if you are ever bald.” said Zoe unexpectedly. “and it will be perfect for you if and when it ever happens.” Victor was relieved at that comment but honestly surprised by her declaration of love. He felt strongly for Zoe 73

R. Leigh and definitely wanted to fremm her, but he had never thought of her in such a traditional way. Was she his future mate or not? They did grew up together and many people expected they would wind up together. Yet, he felt conflicted, since the there a was a tiny hidden part of him inside that hated to admit that he did not experience the kind of fireworks around her that he thought he should. The fact nagged at him and only became worse as she continued to press on with ever more serious talk about their relationship. Was it happening too fast or was it something else entirely? Just as they were about to enter the Gleestoolia, Zoe flashed a concerned look toward Victor. Her naked body stiffened and she looked afraid. “Having second thoughts about fremming?” Victor asked, thinking out loud and not holding anything back. “No”, she replied, blushing between her small shalas. “What then, are you nervous?” “No, not really, “ she replied, “It’s just what Theyna said about Asharrans and pregnancy.” “How they can prevent it either before or after fremming?” asked Victor. “so what’s wrong. She said we would be all right.” “Are you sure, Vic? Are you really sure? I mean, she said that just by not wanting to produce children, that we wouldn’t have to worry but we weren’t born here. We don’t have the little funny looking ears that she does, you know.” “I know where you are going, “he sighed. “She just might be assuming that we’ve automatically become like her. I find that hard to believe.” “Yes, “Zoe said in a small and worried voice, “what if she’s wrong about this? I mean, she’s not an expert on Earth and we still have a lot to learn about Asharrans. We need to see if she can prove that everything is ok.” 74

The Winds of Asharra “And that proof would be ....” “How do I know...that’s the problem!” the Earth nish exclaimed. “Fine. I’ll go back to Theyna. Maybe there is something else she left out, something that will fix this.” “She’s probably asleep by now.” “That’s ok. I know she won’t mind. Are you sure that you didn’t pick up anything when you two were linking up your minds ?” “The images and feelings are still fuzzy, like after a dream.” “That’s fair.” said Victor as he briefly kissed her on the mouth and turned around. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?” Zoe asked. “No, you fluff up the cushions and do whatever to make it nice and cozy. I’ll be right back.” With out further discussion. Victor sprinted down the path back towards the clearing. His bare feet made muffled clomping sounds like a pair of determined hoof beats ringing through the purple twilight. Zoe smiled to herself. She recognized her love for Victor was growing ever stronger, even if he didn’t seem quite so overt about it. A sudden sensation in her tezz reminded her of a more basic primal concern. It had been a while since she had eaten and she had to zim. “Great, and no toilet.” she frowned. Zeeing on the ground was one thing. This was something else. She decided to see if there was a secluded spot behind the reed house, a spot with some large soft leaves nearby. Meanwhile, Victor raced down the path towards where he and Zoe had last left Theyna. He had not anticipated that 75

R. Leigh he would be doing this, interrupting her sleep but Zoe had made a very important point, What if it was only wishful thinking on Theyna’s part or maybe there was more to preventing pregnancy for humans on Asharra. Zoe was right. He had to find out. Realizing that even his passion, his doxmind was siding on caution on this made Victor realize that on Asharra, passion didn’t mean abandoning caring or common sense. You could be passionately logical. To the Asharrans, it was the only way to be logical. The teenager bolted down the path, bathed in a purple glow from Yi, the lesser Asharran sun. This twilight time, Yi-time, would last about one third as long as the brighter Ya-time, when the larger sun was closer and, overshadowed its smaller twin, making the sky a lighter and much brighter shade of purple. The warm breeze felt wonderful on the boy’s naked skin as he ran. A few different sounds, Yi-sounds, could be heard coming from somewhere off of the path, deeper into the forest. Theyna had never said anything about dangerous animals so Victor wasn’t afraid. She did tell them that everything on Asharra was either vegetarian or photo-synthetic so there was no danger of anything trying to hunt him down for dinner. Still, he proceeded with some caution, reasoning that if he accidentally stepped on the tail or the head of some Asharran creature who might be lazily sleeping along the path, it might snap at his bare toes (or even his bare tezz) at least in surprise or pain. Victor further thought that this might be a wise move when he began to hear a sound in the distance, unfortunately exactly in the direction he was heading. It sounded oddly familiar but at the time, with so much on his mind, avoiding Asharran animals and all, the boy couldn’t identify it among all of the other native yi-sounds. Even with the sound growing louder, it didn’t seem threatening so Victor continued on. At last he picked up 76

The Winds of Asharra some traces of Theyna’s foot prints in the dirt, easy to identify since it was not completely dark. After a few moments, he came upon her, as expected, sleeping in a large pile of multicolored leaves. The alien girl was as naked as ever and just as beautiful. She was the source of the sound. At first he thought it was a pleasant way for Asharrans to snore but then he realized that it wasn’t a snore at all. It was warmer and softer. He accidentally shuffled his foot, causing the girl to rouse slightly, her slumber having been disturbed. Instead of instinctively scratching an itch in the middle of the night, Theyna decided to take an equally instinctive action towards her imagined itch. She stretched out one of her bare arms and licked at it a couple of times, just after she stopped purring. Something clicked in Victor’s brain, with several puzzle pieces falling into place. “She’s a cat!” he said out loud, much louder than he had anticipated.” He didn’t know why he did it at first. In fact, Victor wasn’t even aware that he had awkwardly turned around and had dashed off of the path into the forest. All he knew is that he was confused. He and Zoe had been taking advice from a cat. She was a girl. She still looked like a girl with orange skin but she was a cat. She purred and washed herself like a giant cat. “How could I be so stupid,” he thought, “visualizing her feline ears on the top of her head and her overly large attractive eyes.” He had only gotten a few feet before he felt Theyna’s arms on his shoulders and her warm sweet breath on his back. He toppled over onto the ground and the alien girl was on top of him. He waited for her to strike. “What’s wrong Victor?” she shouted, aware that he was 77

R. Leigh not behaving true at all” “Back off!” he said, preparing to defend himself from imagined teeth or claws. “You’re a giant cat creature.” “A what?” she said. He studied her naked body, a shapely young beautiful body which would attract any dox of any age. Except for the orange skin, the strange pointy ears on the top of her head, the larger eyes and the two extra dark triangles on the bottoms of her shalas (In addition to the usual one between a nish’s legs), she was familiar looking. Still, she had no whiskers, or tail and wasn’t covered head to toe with fur aside from the previously noticed patches. She didn’t walk around on all fours, have paw pads or any visible claws either. Theyna was gorgeous but was she some carnivorous animal? Victor was dazed and confused. If Asharrans were cats or at least evolved from something feline, something catlike, it made sense that they were so sensual, so natural and so open. They trusted their instincts but still had a strong sense of self. They had compassion for the group but weren’t ruled by the pack. No, they weren’t like humans. They weren’t descended from some early primate, a distant relative to the monkey. They weren’t overly territorial, aggressive, loud and pack like. They weren’t like humans... they weren’t like.... wait. That isn’t right. They weren’t like humans but humans were more like... dogs. That definitely isn’t right. Humans didn’t evolve from dogs. There is no evidence to support that theory in any way. We were not canine descendants yet, as opposite creatures to the Asharrans we were more canine than hominid. Not only were we not like them, we somehow chose, in the dark recesses of proto-history to emulate the dogs or dog culture. In a weird sort of perverse way, Man’s best Friend was some78

The Winds of Asharra thing we were copying unconsciously. They weren’t copycats. We were copy-dogs. “No wonder we are messed up,” Victor thought to himself, “Even though we evolved from something simian, something apelike, a lot of the things behind earth culture are canine.. Earth culture is upside down compared to the Asharran culture because dogs are opposite from cats. Earth culture has somehow become Dog Culture. How many millions of years ago did that happen? Who domesticated who? “ Victor had never felt comfortable with Dog Culture, Earth culture, except for a handful of elements which never seemed to fit the monotheistic, male-dominated absolutist Western rules of Earth Dog culture. Victor was sensitive while still being a dox. He was an individual, not a member of the pack, loyal to his party, country or school athletic team until death. He wanted no alpha male pack leader in front of him, either in the sky or tied to a cross. All he wanted was the warmth of home. Without knowing it, all he ever wanted was Asharra. “You’re a cat!” he smiled warmly, his time, holding her tightly with both hands, pressing her bare shalas to his chest and grinning from ear to ear. “I have no idea what that is”, the nude girl squirmed in his arms but I promise you, all I want to do is be your friend.” The Earth teenager was only half listening to her words, as he was still amazed with the ramifications of this discovery which so obviously was true in both senses of the word, Asharran and Earth meaning. “I would happily repeat the Friendship Doing with you again.” she said. Victor looked into her large green feline eyes. They 79

R. Leigh contrasted with her golden-orange skin and her broad nose, giving her distinctive beauty. “I would never hurt either of you”, she repeated. “Your shallow words, being a cat. confuses me. Let me repeat the Friendship Doing to prove it to you.” “What are you waiting for Victor” said a familiar voice from behind him. Victor turned and much to his surprise, saw his naked companion from Earth. Zoe stood there completely at ease, obviously having left the Gleestoolia some time shortly after he did. He smiled at her, before turning toward Theyna and allowed her to repeat the friendship Doing. If she felt it was necessary due to his outburst, he wasn’t going to question her. His actions were brash, no matter how much the evidence seemed to support his concerns. Zoe, however, was apparently in full tilt Zoe mode, which was beginning to annoy him more than he would care to admit. While he found her greatly sexually attractive, especially now in this apparent world of nudists, Victor was having second thoughts about his relationship with her. While his raging hormones still wanted to take advantage of every opportunity for satisfaction, the exact nature of his feelings for Zoe were starting to blur and it secretly bothered him. The more she spoke of marriage and mates, the more uncomfortable he became. Deep down, Victor considered himself a hidden romantic, though he would deny it to his closest friends. The fact that he wasn’t feeling any pulse pounding fireworks that weren’t hormonally induced was slowly becoming more evident to him. Was she going too fast or was Zoe simply not the right one for him after all? When Victor completed this latest inner dialog with himself, he noticed that Zoe was once more asking 80

The Winds of Asharra Theyna a million questions about Asharran customs of dating, marriage and sexuality. “I will go slow. “Theyna smiled in a sensual manner. “Certain touching is permitted as custom. Other types of touching is required at ritual Doings. No touching except the most shallow is done without mutual consent. Fremming is perfectly normal for nishs and doxs. It need not be encouraged nor discouraged. Each nish or dox is free to fremm their friends or potential mates as all parties wish, but always the goal is to find a potential mate, a true mate, of either sex. So there are plenty of friendship doings going on, shallow and deep ones, in addition to a lot of playing, happy fremming. Yet, when a couple decides they want to walk the path together, become engaged as you say, they decide to wear each other’s scents.” “I don’t understand.” Zoe replied, eager to learn the proper form for engagement. Victor sighed, accurately guessing that this would somehow involve a primal connection to the Asharran’s original feline nature. When Theyna’s reply confirmed the similarity to a cat’s marking of territory, he chuckled quietly to himself. Zoe’s reaction, however, was quite different. “Eww.. gross,” she scowled, making a more unpleasant face. “You mean he actually zees on her?” “What’s the matter?” Victor kidded her, perhaps a bit too harshly, “You don’t find the idea of wearing my zee on your body appealing?” The teenager had vaguely heard of such sexual practices on Earth. He thought it was an unusual fetish at best, but at least here it made a little bit of sense. Given their sensitive noses and feline heritage, it was understandable that the primitive line between animals’ marking of terri81

R. Leigh tory and couples announcing engagement would get combined. He chuckled to himself that at least, the male Asharran did not have to spend a fortune on a diamond ring. Theyna explained to them that for much of their history, it was always the male who initiated this activity, and the female reciprocated, signaling her acceptance of the proposal. However, over time, the Asharran females or nishs, managed to make the practice more balanced, so that either person could propose to the other by initiating the act. “So people can tell if a couple is engaged because of the smell?” Zoe groaned. She wore a disturbed frown that looked like some cliche American tourist sampling food in a foreign country who was surprised to learn that it had a different taste and culture. The anthropologists had a term for it: enthno-centrism. “The scent of the zee of a pre-bonded mate, mixed with one’s own natural aromas is just part of our way.” Theyna attempted to explain. Zoe tried to apologize but it was clear that her first impression of the strange practice had been clear. “So how long would I have to smell like zee?” she asked. “It guess it depends on whether an Asharran couple believes in long engagements or not.” Victor laughed. He did not offer to demonstrate the practice on Zoe, not because the idea of zeeing on her nude body was unattractive to him. No, it was just that he could not fully think of himself as someone’s fiance just yet. “Most couple’s repeat this act publicly, just before their Bonding Doing “ Theyna attempted to clarify her explanation, “but as soon as it is done the first time, all Asharrans recognize the scent and regard them as spoken for, which is why no one even thinks of asking them for their relationship status.” 82

The Winds of Asharra “One whiff and you know they are together, I suppose, “ Zoe sighed, forcing herself to be only slightly more accustomed to the idea. “We can sense the scent for a long time and from far away.” Theyna offered, as proof of her feline heritage. “If that is how you get engaged, then how do you get married...er... bonded?” Zoe nervously asked. Victor correctly guessed that the marriage ceremony involved public sexual intercourse or fremming by the couple to be married. Theyna graphically confirmed this, explaining to them that when the act was performed in a designated place, the equivalent of their town square, the couple would be considered married or bonded to each other. Public fremming in other locations was also allowed, since there were no absolutes on Asharra, but with a few minor exceptions, it was the ceremonial location which actually transformed the natural act of a loving couple into a declaration of a monogamously married state. The two Earth adolescents were visibly drained from such talk of Asharran sexual practices so with that topic completed, Victor finally was able to recall why he had gone back to see Theyna in the first place. The adolescents needed more reassurance that Zoe would not become pregnant when they fremmed. After all, she did not share their biology. “That’s ok, Vic.” Zoe laughed. “we don’t have to worry. Everything Theyna said is true, Vic, and this time we have proof.” She opened her left hand, which had been closed this entire time, something Victor hadn’t noticed in all of the drama concerning the lecture on engagements and marriages. As Zoe’s hand opened, Victor and Theyna immediately got a whiff of something which smelled like a 83

R. Leigh combination of strawberries and oranges. Sitting in the palm of Zoe’s left hand was a funny looking but all together beautiful something which was green and blue and partially transparent and sparkly all at the same time. And it smelled of strawberries and oranges. “This came out of me!” Zoe squealed, “This came out of my tezz. I guess Asharran biology applies to me now since I could not have produced this.” “Next time, before it hardens, I can teach you how to mold it and give it the degree of hardness you desire. You can decorate it any way you want.” “It’s just your zim “ Theyna casually announced. There was a key difference that suddenly was clear to the adolescents. Human feces or excrement was was basically only useful as a soil fertilizer but nothing else and it smelled terrible. Even still, almost no one used their own to fertilize their lawn on Earth. However, for Asharrans, zim was apparently a waste product that smelled wonderful and was actually attractive. Through some easy to learn processes, it could be processed and manipulated into a variety of shapes and strengths and was utilized by the society like we might use plastic or certain softer metals on Earth. It was totally natural, but bizarre to say the least. “Your bracelets.” Zoe remarked, now finally seeing the light.” “Are made from my zim.” Theyna smiled innocently. “Much of Asharran goods are made from zim. We could not survive without it.” “And if zim comes out of my tezz...” Zoe giggled. “Then I guess we are Asharran now.” said Victor, finishing the sentence.” or at least Asharran enough thanks to the berries.” There was no need to worry about Zoe becoming pregnant. Regular humans did not produce zim. So, without any 84

The Winds of Asharra further need for proof, for the second time during this yicycle, Victor and Zoe left their native born Asharran deep friend to her sleep, learning that the phrase “Warm and Deep, never Empty” was also an appropriate substitute for the Earth “goodnight”. They parted company and the nish and dox from Earth happily strolled back to the Gleestoolia, the reed house, to sleep and fremm. They said little, walking arm and arm preferring to exchange warm and telling glances instead of tender words. So little time had passed since they arrived on Asharra. Yet, so much had changed for the Earth adolescents. They were anxious to arrive at the town, the Osharra which Theyna promised, would yield new discoveries. Yet, even with so few questions answered and even those, leading to more questions, they were strangely content. Both were hungry for more stories and facts about the Asharran way of life. Both were feeling a steady and deepening kinship with these feline based beings. Living life naked under a two suns and a light purple sky was becoming normal and wonderful for them. They playfully tossed the piece of Zoe’s zim between them. It sparkled blue-green in the pale yi-light. The initial sensation of what they were doing felt odd, knowing what the zim really was, what it was composed of. and all. Yet, for Victor and Zoe, it symbolized the changes both in their bodies and their minds that were taking place. Cultural taboos, senses of self-identity, preferences and priorities were all shifting around, realigning themselves. They were becoming different people from who they were before. More accurately, it was precisely the reverse. They were just becoming who they were underneath all of the layers of destructive Earth culture. They had been cruelly convinced and conditioned to blindingly accept competition, 85

R. Leigh patriotism, Western monotheism with its basic separation and loathing of the natural world, and warped rules of aggression and honor as true. Now, thanks to being on Asharra, their world was finally being turned back right side up. They had both felt glimmers in the past that something was wrong and unnatural on Earth. Each of them had been drawn to some fragment here and there that felt true whether it was ecology, vegetarianism or even sensuality and sexuality. This is not to say that Victor and Zoe did not realize the importance, now that they had re-discovered it, of keeping true to things Asharran, of not being shallow and empty. For Victor, it was important to remind himself that although he valued the scientific perspective exemplified by his father, that even the greatest discoveries and the search for them, were nothing without passion and compassion, the gifts of the dox and nish-mind. He would try to retrain his conscious mind to automatically and effortlessly seek out what was true and natural, and not over-emphasize the logical and scientific. For Zoe, the focus-without-effort or Uatu would be more one of cultivating her nish-mind, her passion, sensuality and sexuality in an Asharran way. At 18 years old, Zoe already had definite ideas in this direction. She valued love and was a romantic at heart. She even loved the concept of love itself but Asharra was slowly teaching her that naturalness meant letting things take their own course, and that could apply to love as well. To the Asharrans, it was Uatu, action without effort. She still had much to learn and more to unlearn. Yes, both adolescents were indeed on the Path being carried along by the winds of Asharra but they, like anything else, animal, vegetable or even mineral had the potential to stray into that which was empty and self destructive 86

The Winds of Asharra and out of harmony. The longer they walked the path, the less often that would happen. The number of times it did would not matter, so long as they never gave up. Even keeping score or certainly comparing the imagined difficulties of their journey with others was shallow at best. Returning to the reed house, Victor excused himself and went to the rear of the building. It was his turn to zim. He chuckled to himself as he squatted and extruded some strawberry and orange scented zim at marveled what he had done. No, not the act itself. It was his behavior he found amusing. On Asharra there was no need to excuse oneself, to symbolically apologize before one did something unpleasant or rude. No one needed to hide away behind a closed bathroom door. Naturally, it made things easier since zim smelled so sweet and because it was such a useful part of Asharran culture. It was literally right there in the open, according to Theyna, not something you didn’t speak about or worse yet, made nasty jokes about or utilized as a curse towards someone. Here it might be part of your house, your jewelry and a thousand other things. As Victor finished zimming, having produced a long and beautiful green, blue and sparkly end product , he felt happy and not the slightest bit ashamed or debased. He wondered how coincidental it was that the Asharrans discovered the Zimma berries and then the oddest thought crossed his mind. What if the Asharrans were supposed to discover this? It was almost as thought the plants themselves on Asharra were being helpful. He did not realize it at the time, but Victor had stumbled onto one of the great truths of Asharra, the three spheres of life. Asharrans believed that a great an mystical energy flowed through everything. Victor already had heard of this. It was sha when referring to personal energy. 87

R. Leigh similar to the Earth Chinese concept of “chi”. It was “Asha” when extended to the universe, like the Chinese Tao. In both cases, the coincidences were due to the fact that an Asian couple, long ago had accepted the invitation of the Asharra-dobar artifact and journeyed to the Asharra, even long before the mythical time of the Yellow Emperor in China. For whatever reason, they returned to Earth with several concepts intact, the Yin Yang concept and its symbols, the intertwined black and white swirls were in fact the Yi and Ya, the twin suns of Asharra, which represented the same complimentary forces in all animals, as well as the balance of the nish-mind and the dox-mind. Yes, even though many non Asharran things had been added through the centuries, a handful of Asharran concepts and symbols had remained thanks to this contact. Even the images of the Chinese dragon were very close to the Asharran dreegin, although not only different in size but symbolizing something different as well. The earth dragon to the Chinese was the symbol of intelligence and wisdom. While the Asharran dreegins added playfulness and joy and natural musical ability (with a lot less harmful fire breathing), the wisdom aspect did hold true. It would be quite awhile before Victor and Zoe realized just to what extent. Victor now understood why there was not a separate Asharran bathroom. There was no real waste. Zim was a natural by-product and actually a tool that could be fashioned into many things. zee was not only as pure as it was when you first zeeed out the warm stream, long before any natural bacteria grew in it. On Asharra, no bacteria could take hold. The water was just as fresh and natural days later as when it was zeeed from a nish or dox. In addition, thanks to the feline inspired Asharran native culture (and their developed sense of smell). it was a valuable tool for 88

The Winds of Asharra identifying your engaged partner, a ritual act repeated monthly to commemorate this and a natural perfume that Asharrans often applied to their own bodies, the most personal of personal scents. Silently laughing at himself, Victor vowed to do things the Asharran way in the future. When he had to zim or zee, he would just do it naturally. On Asharra, there was not only no shame, there was only naturalness and practicality in doing what came naturally. That’s why there weren’t any Asharran bathrooms. Victor’s guess that watering the flowers was more than just a cute phrase on Earth, meaning to zee outdoors with a lack of a toilet. On Asharra, it was actually how you watered the flowers and the plants. You gave back to them for the food they produced for you to share, by sharing your zee, your water with them. Victor shaped the result of his zimming into a pair of small roughly spherical shapes, about half the size of golf balls. No one had yet shown him how to alter the zim to make it harder or softer over time. Still, it was a start. At the very least, it was a present for Zoe, one which Victor accurately predicted was neither distasteful nor useless. “I’m done!”, the Earth dox, exclaimed as he entered the house. There was no reply. Given the small size of the structure, it did not take long to discover that Zoe had already fallen asleep on the soft cushion like thing which had been stored in the ceiling reed beams. She had apparently found a few more and made a makeshift bed and was now curled up, naked and warm, the perfect picture of beauty and natural sensuality. However, any thought of waking her in order to fremm disappeared from both of Victor’s minds. Victor sighed quietly to himself, not knowing whether to be disappointed or relieved at the simple fact that Zoe had fallen 89

R. Leigh pointed or relieved at the simple fact that Zoe had fallen asleep. After all her brash talk of fremming, simple exhaustion had won out in the end. Gazing at her nude body, the teenager finally began to come to grips with his feelings. He was undeniably physically attracted to her, but at this very moment, when she was there for the taking, he decided to do otherwise. There was indeed something missing. He needed the fireworks and they simply were not there. Zoe had always been there for him, as a friend and a childhood confidante. Now, grown older and with nice curves in all the appropriate places, she appeared to be a picture perfect version of what he should desire. Yet, she was not. Victor guessed that his father probably expected that they would end up married. It was possible that they would have, had they remained on Earth. He knew he would have grown to love her too and they would have been happy. It would not have been a great love, though, not the proverbial love of his life. Being on Asharra was causing Victor to reassess his priorities examine his feelings. He needed to see and hear those fireworks. As wonderful, funny and sassy that Zoe was, she did not make explosions of color inside his head. Thinking like an Asharran, he knew that he had just eliminated Zoe from his mate selection process. The love of his life was out there somewhere, and perhaps one more reason to leave this strange world and return home to Earth. “Pleasant dreams, Zoe,” he whispered, as he politely kissed her on the forehead. “I’m sorry I am not the one to offer you more than that.” With that, he snuggled close to her, more of a protector than a lover, and promptly fell asleep. While they slept and completely unknown to the Earth adolescents, a small flock of dreegins had decided to temporarily perch on the win90

The Winds of Asharra dow-like cut out on the wall opposite where they slept. The two visitors, one red, and one purple made a soothing almost imperceptible la, a lullaby for Victor and Zoe. It was soft and caring and sympathetic which was the dreegin way and reflected their regard for the tall-creepers, for that is how the dreegins referred to humans whether from Asharra or from Earth when they sang of them or for them. In the dreegin language, the note for people was a steady low tone with three intersecting staccato sounds, a tall-creeper, while a higher pitch happy trilling sound often quite complicated, was the appropriate dreegin note for dreegin. It didn’t particularly matter to either the dreegins or the orange skinned tall-creepers, the Asharrans that they couldn’t precisely communicate with one another. They felt true as they Asharrans would say. Their la was harmonious and soared was how the dreegins perceived the relationship and since the little dreegins did not regard skin color, a few odd patches of hair or the shape or locations of one’s ears as significant, the dreegins regarded Zoe and Victor as just another couple of tall-creepers, nothing more or less. That was a tremendous compliment in the dreegin way for they were very wise, only slightly wiser than the Asharrans themselves. All of the dreegins knew of the Asha and the sha which flowed just as the Asharrans did. In fact, dreegins were Asharrans as were any lifeform that lived on Asharra. Dreegins were just smaller, a bit more unpredictable, even more childlike and well, dreegin. Still, the dreegins saw things which only few Asharrans really understood in great detail. They not only knew of the three modes of life, animal, vegetable and mineral but they communicated with all three, something that even the tall-creepers did not do. A handful of Asharran elders, the Rohulu’s, knew the big pic91

R. Leigh ture, or at least much of it. Yet, the most backward dreegin, the most unusual one (which was definitely not a red one, the red ones blended in the best) could understand the mysteries of the universe and sang about them whenever he or she was happy. The subject of many of the dreegin la’s when they weren’t healing or mating or talking to the plants or the rocks were odes to Asharra. They were devoted to the concept of Home in special ways even hidden to most Asharrans. Two of the simple and amusing creatures sang to Victor and Zoe as they slept. A pair of wise dreegins made a complex la for them simultaneously comforting them and entering their dreams with feelings of warmth and home. Dreams were just dreams after all, but they were also are the only way that dreegins had discovered, that they could truly get their message across to the tall-creepers. Some Asharrans really felt the music of the dreegins and sympathetically connected to them. This was different. The la of the dreegins could penetrate the minds of the Asharrans even deeper when the tall-creepers were asleep. The wisest of them, the most natural could receive the la messages when awake due to the primal nature of their nish and dox mind. The dreegins were attempting not only to soothe the adolescents. They were also trying to teach them and the lessons were natural and true. Neither Victor nor Zoe would remember any details of the dragon-like lyrics but their inner instincts were being strengthened and their dox and nish minds were being held and caressed. The teenagers would find their feelings for Asharrans and their connections with them, grow in intensity and frequency. The dreegins also filled their gentle la with notes about the meaning of life and the nature of reality. These notes would 92

The Winds of Asharra help them feel the constant pull toward the answer to these questions. In this one way, the dreegins were not being reassuring. In fact, they were being the reverse, acting as a sonic itch that required the tall-creepers to scratch. They were increasing the cosmic itch for the truth since only when scratched, an even larger balance could be achieved. Time passed until the pair heard a strange sound coming from inside the small structure. Victor and Zoe turned towards the far wall and saw something very unexpected. A single dreegin was sitting on the makeshift opening. It was a purple dreegin and it was singing. It was making a la for them. “Look at that!” Zoe exclaimed, pointing towards the dreegin. The small purple dragon turned his head to one side and stared at the couple. “Don’t you ask if we can keep him..”Victor joked. “I know.. I know.. they aren’t pets. They’re friends but maybe we can get him to stick around.” Zoe hoped, wondering if the dreegin would fly away in the next moment. As if in answer to her question, the little purple dreegin did indeed flap its wings and fly not outside but rather inside the reed house. It landed on the floor, on one of the cushions next to them. “Aw....” Zoe cooed without effort. “I want to call him Puff.” Victor raised one eyebrow at Zoe. He contemplated telling her that was not wise. I mean after all, there were issues of trademark and copyright and lots of other meaningless things. And they didn’t even know if he was indeed magical. “Puff...” Victor repeated in a mock angry tone.”Do you like the name Puff?” 93

R. Leigh The small purple dreegin blinked its eyes in wonder. Suddenly it made an unexpected noise which was obvious to both adolescents as a dreegin sneeze and a small bit of fire came out of the creature’s mouth, luckily not in their direction. “Looks more like a Huff than a Puff to me!” Victor laughed. Zoe put on a pouty expression for a second, thrusting out her pretty lower lip. “All right then. I’ll settle for Huff.” she said, still silently concluding that the tiny dragon less than a foot long, might fly away in an instant. She quietly determined that if he did, the next one would be Puff. That way, if there were two of them, they would be Huff and Puff. She didn’t plan on sharing this profound insight with Victor anytime soon. Meanwhile, the little dreegin sat there apparently quite confused as what to make of these tall-creepers. Actually, he was glad that they enjoyed his la. He was glad that, unlike his mate, he decided to stay and watch them sleep. The little purple dreegin thought and thought and decided one thing which did not occur to the adolescents. The dreegin determined that he would enjoy being renamed “Huff” and there was something about these two particular creepers that he liked. He decided to add his own steam to their smell, indicating a very rare form of dreegin friendship. So without warning, the dreegin bolted up from the cushion and while making a sweet but complex la for the adolescents, dropped a curtain of warm steam over them. “Hey... what’s that?” “Better that than fire!” Zoe exclaimed. The three beings stared at each other for a few moments, attempting to communicate without saying anything. “Maybe he’s hungry?” Victor suggested. 94

The Winds of Asharra “We don’t exactly have any dragon-chow, I mean dreeginchow for him but besides, it’s not like he needs us to feed him.” “What do you want Huff?” Victor asked innocently. Huff didn’t want anything. He had just said thank you in a very special way. He had added a little something extra to his steam, Huff was a bit of an odd little sort, even for a dreegin. He had a weird sense of humor but he was as true and loyal as an Asharran. He liked both of the adolescents but the one with the long hair was favorite. There was only one things wrong. “Zoe....” “I wonder what Theyna will think of this..” “Zoe..” “I mean, she never said anything about you close dreegins come to Asharrans. Maybe this kind of thing happens all of the time.” “Zoe”, Victor repeated for the third time. “What is it?” she finally responded. Victor scanned the inside of the reed house for something he did not find, a mirror. “Your hair, “he blurted out, “look what the dreegin did to your hair!” Zoe reacted in sheer panic expecting the worst, as though some giant pigeon had covered her hair with poop. She inhaled deeply but didn’t smell anything. She shook her head but didn’t feel any strange substances fall out. Only then did she take a close look at some of the strands of her long hair, pulling up the ends from where they hung at her collarbone. “Wow.” she exclaimed. Huff blinked his dreegin eyes twice in appreciation of a job well done. Now the tall-creeper, the nish tall-creeper who was obviously called Zoe by the taller one, was per95

R. Leigh fect. She was perfect at least by Huff’s standards. “He turned your hair purple.” Victor stammered, “Just like that he turned your hair purple.” Victor lowered his head, glancing at the corresponding hair between her legs. It was also a bright shade of purple. “I love it.” Zoe exclaimed, “but is it temporary or what?” “How would I know?” “We’ll ask Theyna later. Maybe she’ll know.” “Why purple? What was the meaning behind it? “thought Victor out loud. “Ah... Victor...” Zoe smiled, gesturing toward the dreegin. Her hair was now the exact shade of purple as Huff. In the little dreegins own eyes, now the tall nish was perfect, Huff, the little purple dreegin blinked its large blue eyes and yawned broadly. Like on Earth, the action was contagious and the teens concluded that they might get a little more sleep and decided to snuggle together on the soft cushions, curled up in each other’s nude bodies. They lazily fell back to sleep, now growing ever more accustomed to the all over sensation of the each other’s warm skin against their front and backsides. They alternated from a spoon like position to face to face hugging, arms and legs entertwined. It was natural like two kittens curled up in a ball on Earth, sensual and warm but nothing more. Time passed and it became Ya-time as the greater of the two Asharran suns once more seemed to join its mate, increasing the amount of light and warmth reaching the planet. Clearly, it was the interplay of the revolution of the planet and its complicated orbit weaving around and between the twin suns. Still, to all Asharrans, it was expressed in sensual terms, the blending of the Yi-Ya. The 96

The Winds of Asharra brighter time (for in Asharran terms, it was always today), brought new surprises and adventure. It was to be the beginning of a new phase of the path which Zoe and Victor were now happily walking together. They awoke as expected, but gave no thought at first to what changes would be ahead. This was the Uatu, the Asharran concept of acting without acting, of applying the minimum necessary attention to things. On Earth, it would be called, “going with the flow” or “rolling with the punches” to Western cultures. Some Earth eastern religions like Taoism called a similar concept, Wu-wei, doing without doing. All were similar ideas of embracing what was natural, not going against the proverbial grain and just floating through life whenever possible. The Asharrans never prohibited anything, really, since their nish and dox minds were rarely so far out of balance from Asharra as to be in danger of seriously harming themselves or others. It was not surprising, then for Asharrans to speak of goals but to them, the word meant something very different than on Earth. To an Asharran, a goal was more of a preference, a possible destination, a direction where you were leaning toward at the moment. It was never absolutist and never more important than your actual journey on the path. To an Asharran, the goals gave the journey meaning, not the reverse. Some earth religions stressed the destination alone and others recognized only the journey. In true Asharran form, the orange skinned beings recognized both, but relegated the destination to a sort of signposts along the way. In Asharran terms, the signposts were blank, giving you a choice each time you arrived at one. In their way, goals or destinations were temporary things, just reference points where, according to the idea of UAtu, you instinctively zigged or zagged, taking one fork or the other on the path, 97

R. Leigh continuing on until you stumbled onto another goal. Which fork you took, easy or hard ultimately did not really matter that much so long as you walked the path, carried by the winds of Asharra and pulled by your own internal Asha, as long as you did not give up. That was the only way you could fail. After the teens were awake, they surprised themselves by not immediately falling into Earth routines of behavior. There was no excusing one self before closing the bathroom door. They instead stepped outside together, enjoying the now warmer feeling of the twin suns on their naked flesh, smiled together and zeeed on the ground in front of the house. Victor stepped in Zoe’s zee and she did the reverse. Although enjoyable, they felt no special or immediate insight after doing this. Zoe’s nish-mind link with Theyna told her that this only had a special effect across species which is why both she and Victor had experienced a greater empathy for Asharran ways from walking through Theyna’s zee (when mixed with the native Asharran red soil). Victor and Zoe were both of Earth and thus, didn’t need or receive any empathic boost. The two of them gathered up some food from one of the leaf boxes and discussed recent events as they ate their first breakfast together. The subject matter centered on how amazing little Huff the dragon seemed to be. The little creature was no where to be found this morning and the pair wondered if they would even ever see him again. Secretly, yet shared together without words, they hoped and knew they would. Neither teenager, though, brought up the fact that Zoe had fallen asleep and that they had not fremmed. For Zoe, she was simply embarrassed that this had occurred. She merely did not want to call attention to it, thinking nothing major had changed. Victor, however, was 98

The Winds of Asharra struggling with a way to tell her of his feelings or more appropriately, the extent of his feelings. It was not a subject he could easily raise without causing bad feelings. Worse yet, he wasn’t entirely sure how serious Zoe actually was or if she actually regarded him as some generic stand-in for a true love yet to be. Either way, he preferred to focus on getting answers to his questions about returning to Earth. The two of them were still discussing the purple dreegin and avoiding other matters when they were joined for breakfast. Theyna arrived while they were in the middle of eating, apparently not at all disturbed that they had begun their Yato without her (the earth meals of breakfast, lunch and dinner, roughly corresponded to the Asharran terms of Ya-to, Ya-re, Yi-re and Yi-to. It wasn’t a direct match since the Asharrans recognized four meals instead of three and even still, managed to eat when they were naturally hungry, skipping a meal or even adding one when necessary. Theyna was stunned at Zoe’s purple hair, telling her sister that it was unlike anything she had ever seen. This made any question about how long it would remain purple, unnecessary as the Asharran nish obviously was as mystified as her younger Earth sister. Zoe asked about proper etiquette when they would reach the Osharra so Theyna attempted to calm any generic fears that either of them might be secretly harboring. She explained that shaking hands was not done as a matter of course, although greeting one another with a true hug was indeed appropriate if the parties felt deeply for each other as friends. If you were meeting Asharrans for the first time, no touch was necessary as a smile was the universal custom. If some indication of a wish of future possible friendship, a hand briefly placed on a shoulder indicated comfort 99

R. Leigh or a not so tacit indication that Friendship Doings in the future would not be out of the question. Victor asked Theyna about the appropriateness of touching or being touched in places considered taboo in public on Earth. The Asharran nish laughed as images of Earth etiquette flashed in her nish-mind due to the link with Zoe. It all seemed so pretentious and shallow on earth. Manners there could not only be shallow. They were even empty things, concealing more than revealing, hurting instead of helping to make people feel “at home.” She explained to Victor and Zoe that tactile familiarity did not always follow hard and fast rules since there were no absolutes on Asharra, but generally did follow a pattern. If two Asharrans (of the opposite or the same sex) had done the Friendship Doing , that greater tactile contact was allowed. If a friend appreciated the words of another friend very deeply for example, it was common to say “I honor the wisdom of your darana’s” (or of your nish if appropriate). If the subject being honored was an acquaintance or a stranger, it would only be said verbally and would be greatly appreciated as a compliment as is. If the person, however, was an Asharran friend, it was common and natural to actually cradle the friend’s darana’s (or encircle their nish) with your fingers as you said this, adding a more personal touch, Even without invoking any compliment, it was common for friendly Asharrans to touch or pat each other on the tezz. Theyna explained that Asharran children and teens touched each other constantly and were not discouraged at all from doing so. They were instead seen by adults are wise living reminders of how we should regard each other as friends and how the barriers between us crumble when all are in true harmony. The exact social rules and friend100

The Winds of Asharra ship doings were relaxed and almost ignored if the child was young enough. The more they were natural, the more they did not even need the Doings, In the Asharran worldview, where the universe was a never ending levels of Home and being natural and true was honored, created culture only served as a reminder of how to return to natural culture. All rituals were nothing more than formalized, repetitive reminders to get in touch with your nish or dox mind. As beings became older and unfortunately lost some natural openness, rituals were invented to break down those barriers. It was similar in a way to observations that Earth adolescents before they went to school might play together freely but only later, when socialized, would tend to separate into groups, feel insecure or worry about how to behave around each other when earlier they would have just been natural. In this way, the Asharrans were attempting to return to even deeper levels of their own naturalness via the Doings. Zoe concluded that most Asharrans, with the exception of children, would not grab her by the tezz, but if one did, she would not react negatively. It would be a compliment and nothing more. She was curious about more serious advances, however, and asked Theyna point blank how to tell if an Asharran male wanted to have sex, to fremm her. “When an Asharran would like to fremm you, he or she simply says... would you like to fremm me? Would you like me to repeat that again?” Theyna giggled to Zoe. “I think I got it just fine.” laughed Zoe, rolling her eyes in a pained way. “And the only time I absolutely should keep my hands to myself....” Victor added. “is when that is what your dox-mind feels. Otherwise, touch a shoulder or an tezz but don’t be surprised if the 101

R. Leigh Asharran offers to be friends or more.” “Right.” Victor chuckled, I will remember. that.” Zoe whispered something to Theyna and the two nishs smiled. They asked Victor to leave the reed house for a few moments because they wanted to show him something that wasn’t quite ready yet. Naturally curious, yet obviously confused, the Earth dox stepped outside momentarily and passed the time by moving trails of Asharran red soil into little mounds with his toes. After a relatively small amount of time, Zoe’s voice beckoned him to re-enter the building. “Wow!” he exclaimed. The two nishs stood before him, one pink skinned, one orange skinned but both beautifully naked. This time, however, there was a subtle difference. Now, both Theyna and Zoe were each wearing anklets and bracelets around their arms and legs. The jewelry was colorful and sparkly, and was obviously made of zim. Both nishs were wearing a combination of jewelry, some made by themselves (quite literally) and some made by their sister. Each wore one bracelet and one anklet of blue-green, made by Zoe as each wore one red -gold bracelet and anklet made from Theyna’s zim. The scent of the zim was pleasant but faint. You had to be right next to the them to sense it. It was clear that visually this was a signal to all that that Zoe and Theyna were birth-siblings, even though then were born on different planets. “How did you do that so fast?” Victor asked, stunned at how pretty Zoe looked wearing the exotic jewelry. “I squatted and it came out of my tezz!” Zoe laughed, stating the obvious. “She spit on it and worked it into the proper shape. “ Theyna explained, “I showed her how long to hold it in her cupped hands before releasing it to the air.” 102

The Winds of Asharra “I poked it with this stick, “said Zoe, pointing to a small implement made from a piece of a branch.” and Theyna showed me how to make designs in it.” Victor gazed closer at the blue-green creations of Zoe’s. He noticed some crude imitations of the symbols that were visible on Theyna’s but he also noticed some differences. Zoe had created some indentations that were clear representations of a peace sign, a flower and what looked like a butterfly. Theyna looked on approvingly and all three adolescents hugged before finishing their Ya-to, their breakfast. After this had been completed. They replaced the cushions back into the rafters of the Gleestoolia and set off for Theyna’s Osharra. The Asharran explained to her friends that if she was more proficient in the art of gathering, she would go out and collect a mix of fruits, nuts and berries to replenish the amount they had consumed from the leaf boxes. It was not dishonorable that she did not do so since, because of her relative age and lack of experience, it would have taken forever to identify and locate all of the necessary food items. She explained that other Asharrans would compensate for this, often even bringing extra leaf boxes of food with them for the sole purpose of replenishing the stockpile for travelers. The topic of conversation changed as the trio proceeded down the path towards their next destination or blank guidepost along the way, in this case, the Osharra where Theyna grew up. The inhabitants and others knew it by the term, Osharra-kibur, the Home between Us By The Lake. Other towns or cities or villages were all Osharra, with just some suffix added on the end of the term to distinguish them. Still they were all Osharra, a form of home, even for those who had never been there. On Asharra, which meant home as well, you were always home, no matter whether it 103

R. Leigh was familiar or not. The winding curvy path zigged and zagged as they went, occasionally joining up with additional paths. Theyna explained that the Asharran road or natural path system converged at Osharras and that it was common for paths to intersect and meld together as one approached an Osharra. “We have some traveling partners.” Theyna told the adolescents as they walked, “I met them on the way to the Gleestoolia. They’re going to my Osharra as well.” The adolescents were surprised that these fellow travelers did not join them for Ya-to at the reed house, but Theyna eventually explained that it was their preference to go along ahead for a time and wait for them at a specifically designated place. Though it did not make much sense to Victor and Zoe at the time, they wondered what sort of new Asharrans they would soon meet along the way. “It’s a happy coincidence that they are going to be company for us.” Zoe beamed. “There are no real coincidences. “explained Theyna, repeating her teachings, “there are only rays of sunshine we haven’t seen yet.” Theyna changed the topic of conversation momentarily, asking Zoe about what she remembered from the nish-mind link, the sisterly link. With a small and conflicted looking frown, the earth nish admitted that the flashes of shared memories and images had instead of fading away like a dream, had rather intensified and become clearer since she slept. Theyna agreed, telling the Earth adolescents that while making her feel closer to them, now that she was sensing flashes of Earth through their eyes, it also troubled her. She only now was starting to comprehend the extent of natural imbalance on Earth and the sad degree of sickness and emptiness. Theyna described the illnesses present on 104

The Winds of Asharra Earth as familiar items to the teens. She described flashes of excessive and unwarranted anger, envy, fear, worry and bigotry. It made Theyna very sad to conceive of a world so upside down and so ill and it caused her to feel admiration for Victor and Zoe. They had somehow managed to keep themselves healthy enough and true, so that their own inner battles with such things were only the smallest echo of that which she saw from the nish-mind link. Most of the people on Earth were sick. Theyna pitied them and hoped they would feel true some day and until then, would not infect others with their sickness. She felt no anger or hatred for them, even though so many Earth people were filled with emptiness. They were ill, not evil. Asharrans felt no good and bad. only deep and shallow or empty and emptiness was illness to be cured or at least tended to, until the sad creature succumbed. In the Asharran way, if the emptiness was too great some infected might surrender to it. If they did, it was the greatest sadness, That surrender was the only thing way the Earth people were beyond curing, only if they refused treatment. Otherwise, there was always hope. In that way, perpetual emptiness was a tragedy since it was not only self inflicted. It was a disease that was self perpetuating, nurtured by the patient, a patient carefully administering his own poison. Physical illness could be cured and even in extreme cases when it could not, it did not matter if the person was true. The infected was in balance as best he could be and even approaching death was content. True emptiness was much different and much worse. It did not matter if the person lived or died at that point. In that way it was similar to physical illness. If the person was true, the state of his particles in the Asharran wind or water, whether he was dead or alive, did not really matter so long as he was 105

R. Leigh natural and true. Yet, if unnatural, if empty by harboring the unnecessary illness of negative emotions, thoughts, words or deeds, the person was very different from one physically ill. If he surrendered, the only way an Asharran could truly fail at anything, he was no longer true. Whether alive or dead, his asha or inner energy barely moved. His components, his particles were empty of life, even if he still breathed. He was dead in a way more dramatically than physical death. To native born Asharrans, death was merely a change of form, a separation of the internal asha energy and the physical and microscopic particles of existence (our ideas of quantum physics). The asha and particles might break down and re-combine with others similar or different from their own. You might help to become part of a planet, a tree, the soil or just interstellar dust which might help reshape the cosmos. There was no individual soul which cried out for immortality. There was cooperation, not competition for existence, even after death. No tally of good deeds was made to ensure some imagined afterlife. There was not competition while alive to secure your place at the head of some heavenly line to receive your winnings for a race well run. There was no race, no winners and no losers. There was only particles and energy, renewing the very fabric of space and time. You were Asharra and Asharra was you. It created you and you in turn helped to create other parts of it after a time. Some Asharran elders believed that your energy and particles, under special circumstances could migrate across the universe, combining with other like minded energy and particles and stream into other worlds and other beings. You did not reincarnate, they taught, but maybe a tiny spark of you, combined with other tiny sparks helped to ig106

The Winds of Asharra nite a life on another world. It did not matter if that life was a person or a tree or a rock., so long as it were true. In this way, the Asharrans felt that all life was related to them in some mysterious way and that in some way, they felt compelled to help it along whenever possible, and maybe even invite it Home if possible. It bothered Theyna when she saw and felt so much unnecessary pain and illness on Earth via the link with her younger sister. She felt an admiration for what Zoe had experienced and the simple fact that she had not given up in the face of such emptiness. Theyna felt warm inside her nish-mind, recalling her lessons that teachers and students were only terms for temporary experiences. In life, Asharrans knew that those were only roles which you could experience and alternate back and forth with as your life progressed. They weren’t stages as Earth people assumed, linear stages to be passed through as you aged. No, Theyna was happy since she felt the positions switch, as she now regarded a way in which Zoe was her teacher and not the reverse. She shared this feeling with her younger sister and it made her equally happy because it was true. Theyna pointed up ahead to a place where their path joined another by a tall green tree as where they would be stopping. This was to be where they would meet some additional travelers. The earth adolescents quickened their pace, eager for some new experiences but curious what was ahead. They both wondered if these new Asharrans would be similar or different from Theyna, who by some happy coincidence, although there were no coincidences on Asharra, was the only alien they had ever met. That was about to change but not before Zoe decided that she herself would alter the perception. After all, weren’t she and Victor the real aliens on Asharra? Wasn’t it really impolite to 107

R. Leigh think of them that way? After a funny looking naked dash toward the spot, Victor paused, leaning on the tree as he caught his breath. He thought he could make out a few tall structures in the distance so Theyna’s Osharra had to be close by. There were still enough trees and a variety of vegetarian and hills blocking the path, preventing them from getting a clear view. Zoe looked around in both directions, wondering where the Asharrans who were supposedly waiting for them, had gone. She concluded, they were probably fremming in the grass somewhere, a perfectly natural way to pass the time. “So where are they? “ Victor asked. “And who are they?” Zoe added. “We are the Oon.” came the answer. The adolescents stared at each other for a fraction of a second and then looked around. They had heard something but also, they had not. “We are the Oon, young ones.” the odd voice repeated in their minds. They realized that the strange voice was being felt directly inside their heads or their brains or the minds between their legs. It was some sort of telepathy. The voice was balanced and comforting and had an odd echo. It was deep and wise and unlike anything they had ever heard or felt before. Victor and Zoe looked up and down and saw no one. They expected an Asharran couple but not an invisible one. This was something truly amazing. “Does it have something to do with our Earth eyes?” Victor asked, wondering through some evolutionary scientific quirk, that he and Zoe were simply incapable of seeing the source of the voice. Maybe you had to be able to see 108

The Winds of Asharra into a different portion of the electro-magnetic spectrum in order to perceive this creature named Oon. “Yes, it has something to do with your eyes, “Theyna chuckled playfully, twirling her dark black hair near where it fell by her bare nipples. “You need to open your them.” Victor felt the faintest of vibrations and immediately jumped back, nearly knocking his naked companion down and causing Theyna to burst out laughing. “It moved.” Victor whispered. “We do that.” answered the Oon. “The tree moved.” said Victor in a slightly more hushed voice. “We prefer to refer to it as pushing, a requirement for rolling, “ the Oon, continued. “We are the Oon.” Victor and Zoe stepped back and analyzed the tree closely for the very first time. It was different than all of the other surrounding trees. It had three breaks in its lower trunk as if standing on a tripod. If you continued to look from bottom to top, the trunk section then became solid for a bit and then splayed out again into three long branches with a small bump-like protrusion in the middle of them. It was green which wasn’t surprising to the Earth teens, since it was the natural color of all plants on Earth but it was all green. The body or smooth bark like area was green with some fine lines running through it. And there were no leaves hanging from either the three top branches or the central bump in the middle. It had no face which was the most Earth like thing you could say about the plant. It was the Oon, which was the most un-Earth like thing you could say about it. Its voice became clearer now in their minds as it sent gusts of thought at them, Theyna added to their enlightenment and confusion. 109

R. Leigh “This obviously is the Oon,” she said, “they came to Asharra exactly the same way you did, via the Asharradobar.” “How many of them are they?” Zoe thought to herself silently. “We are both here.” thought the Oon at all of them. The voice they were hearing became even clearer now. The echo was even more obvious. Zoe and Victor and Theyna were hearing two voices slightly out of sync from the tree. One was male and one was female.” “We are the Oon,” the tree-like being thought at them, “and we are pleased to meet you.” Victor extended his arm automatically as if to shake hands, limbs. branches, something, but dropped it to his side after feeling how ridiculous it must have appeared. He only felt a warm sensation in his minds, a recolonization and acknowledgment from the plant. “You’re not from Asharra.” the Oon thought at the Earth adolescents. “No, we are ...” “From Earth, yes, “ the tree interrupted, reading their minds. “They must be telepathic.” Victor thought, referring to the entire species of tree beings. “Yes, we are.” the Oon replied, referring to itself. They all heard the two voices together and realized why the Oon referred to itself in the plural. It was...no, that’s not right, they were the type of plant that contained both sexes. The Oon was plural. It was both male and female and it thought at them with two voices of a single mind. “Do not be afraid.” the Oon reassured them, “I am not like the others of my world. I am not a warrior. I will not hurt you.” “We want to be friends too.” Zoe replied in sincere 110

The Winds of Asharra friendship. She paused for a second, wondering if it would do any good to perform the Asharran Friendship Doing. Thunderous laughter in stereo erupted within her mind. “If only we could”, the voices roared a beat apart, “but we have no foreheads or genitals to touch.” Theyna’s mind veered off from the primary topic at this point. She was receiving all of the Oon’s telepathic messages, regardless of who they were being directed at. In fact, it was the same situation for Zoe and Victor was well. The Oon were thinking towards all of them at once, without bothering to separate thoughts towards a single destination. The thought of kissing was Theyna’s focus, however. She had only experienced this for the first time when she and Zoe were both locked together because of the unexpected strength of the nish-link. When she and her sister passionately kissed without desiring to or realizing it, it was the first time that the young Asharran’s lips had ever touched anothers. The Asharrans did many natural things and were happy to explore all that was positive but somehow, they had never learned of the concept of kissing each other on the lips. Somehow, from being in the presence of the Oon, Theyna’s thoughts on this subject, after being telepathically picked up by the plant creature were then received in both Victor’s and Zoe’s minds. Both of the Earth adolescents learned of Theyna’s shock of discovering what a kiss was and her pleasure at receiving and giving this sensual gift. “My apologies,” the Oon thought at all of them, “I sense you do not share thoughts in exactly, the same way as we do, as a group. As a courtesy, I will attempt to refrain from distributing your thoughts to each other as I receive them.” “Thank you.” Victor said, not knowing why he really said it. 111

R. Leigh “You guys never kiss?” asked Zoe, turning towards Theyna, “that’s sad.” “In that way, we’ve been unknowingly shallow..” Theyna whispered. Victor hypothesized that perhaps it had to have some vague connection with Theyna’s feline ancestry. Her distant ancestors had no real lips either and just bared their teeth to show other primal feelings. Cats did not kiss and native born Asharrans did not kiss on the lips until now. “I will teach others about kissing.” Theyna said with a gleam in eyes. Victor was unclear if the older Asharran girl had looked at him a little longer than necessary when she said that but decided to turn his attention to the telepathic tree in front of him. He decided to do this especially after he realized the tree was probably reading his mind anyway. The immediate conversation with the Oon which followed was odd by either Earth or Asharran standards, a strange mishmash with answers preceding spoken questions half of the time, as the Oon attempted to be as helpful as possible, replying to their queries, even before many were spoken. The Oon also had many questions of their own. Barely beginning to get accustomed to referring to the intelligent tree in the plural, the humans and the Asharran began to understand. Whether referred to as “the Oon” or simply “Oon” as a sort of name if more convenient for the earth adolescents, this being came from a planet as different as Earth was from Asharra. The homeworld for the plant was called Shellibak and it was, contrary to what you would expect, very inhospitable. Looking at the tree, Victor and Zoe assumed it came from a lush and peaceful paradise. The reverse was closer to the truth. 112

The Winds of Asharra Shellibak was a planet even more full of turmoil than Earth. The land itself was ripped apart by severe weather patterns, making the only habitable zone, a long band across its equator. Here had been a warm jungle inhabited by hundreds of different species of plant life, including the Oon. Millenia past and life evolved because that is what life does, no matter what or where. On Shellibak, however, things took a few different turns. No animal or mineral life ever developed since mammals or crystals could not survive outside of the narrow zone around the equator, a zone which was so full of plant life, that it left no room for any other form and it did so selfishly. By that time, two distinct types of intelligent plants were evolving on Shellibak in the Green Zone. One was the Oon, a tree-like race who in each being, were male and female. The other was the Jurulamada, a beautiful vine like lifeform which grew swiftly and covered the land with its triangular leaves and slender shoots. Over time, the intelligence of the two species made them diverge from the rest of the plants. The Jurulamada was actually a single being, not even a race at all and it wanted to expand to fill the entire Green Zone. It learned the art of war and viciously attacked the less intelligent plant forms, invading their areas of growth and literally strangling them to death. Luckily the Oon had originally evolved far enough away from the Jurulamada, East of them to be precise, that they were able to grow and reproduce asexually in peace. At first, the Oon had no thought in their vocabulary for war. Centuries past and finally the Jurulamada, ever seeking to increase their domain, already having eliminated all other plants in the immediate vicinity, pressed outward until they encountered the Oon. It was a slaughter, with countless Oon casualties. To the casual observer, if it had 113

R. Leigh been possible for an Earth person or a native born Asharran to witness this plant war, it would be an unexpected battle, glacially slow and silent, almost imperceptible. Yet, it was as brutal and empty as any war or slaughter in the universe. Oons were slowly killed by the thousands and this continued for years. Finally, knowledge was made form, energy was made into particles and the Oon learned how to retreat. They gained the ability to lift their three limbs out of the ground, ever so slowly entwine them with their three upper limbs and roll away at a very slow but effective speed, just fast enough to escape their enemy. The Jurulamada could only stretch and grow more vines when the Shellibak sun was shining. The Oon could roll away during the night, storing the energy they had accumulated deep within the ball they had made of themselves. Centuries continued to pass and unfortunately, the Oon made a mistake, a shallow error which led to an empty conclusion. They decided not only to retreat when necessary, not only to defend, but to attack. The Oon became warriors. All of them. From one fateful day in their past, all future Oon were born warriors. The early history with the Jurulamada was almost forgotten since they had exterminated the vine creature millenia ago. However, since the Jurulamada had effectively destroyed all other plant life on Shellibak other than the Oon, when the Jurulamada was finally destroyed. The Oon were a warrior race who were alone on their planet. They had won but they were bitter and angry and alone. Generation after generation of Oon were born as spores from their limbs and nothing changed, until a very recently, a moment ago really, just a few hundred years ago. “When I was born,” Oon continued their story, “ We were unlike the rest. We were not warriors.” “the Asharran Way,” Theyna smiled. 114

The Winds of Asharra “We were outcasts, shunned. We slowly were driven away to the furthest reaches of the Green Zone. We rolled away in slow shame.” “Until you found the Asharra-dobar.” said Victor, guessing how the tale would progress. “We rolled over it one week, “Oon thought at them, “and after several weeks more, we stopped and thought at this odd thing. It was not plant, not Shellibak, but somehow it felt alive.” Victor assumed that the fact that the Oon were plural was the reason why just one of them was transported to Asharra, since technically there was no such thing as just one of them. Oon were always two. “When we thought at it and sensed something life-like that was not plant, “ we appeared here, just a moment ago.” “Really?” Zoe gasped, entranced by the telepathic tale. “Yes, only a few hundred Asharran years have elapsed since I appeared here. I stood in this spot long enough to think of what to do next.” “We’ve known about this tree for generations.” Theyna offered but no one had ever seen it move before.” “W were not finished thinking,” Oon said to them all. “We don’t like to be rushed.” “So you made contact with Theyna by accident?” Victor asked. “Of a sort.” Oon replied, “for a short time, corresponding to a few local decades, We stood and grew and listened to the thoughts of those that passed by use. We were shocked to discover that if we thought hard enough that we could hear tiny voices in our head, that there was intelligent life besides plants and that it was not warlike like my kind. You were different from us but in a way, for the first time in our long existence, we were home.” 115

R. Leigh “Asharra, Ishanna, Osharra.” Theyna chanted. The three naked adolescents looked at each other, nodding their heads and smiling. The Asharra-dobar had invited Oon to the planet since it was truly their home. Still, the story of what transpired on Shellibak and the Oon in general raised as many questions as answers. Oon told the trio that they had learned in the past few years to speed up its thoughts, enabling them to sync them up with the animals on the planet. They also told them that they had made contact with the native Asharran plants and minerals and spoke with them The Oon revealed little about this other than to say that they had learned that harmony and peace across all species was vital and that they had to know more. Oon had decided that they had to locate and think with an Asharran elder, a Rohulu. “They are most wise,” Theyna offered. “And your elders may tell me where we can find the one we truly wish to speak with on this planet.” “Who is that?” Zoe asked. The Oon thought a thought at the trio. It was the deepest thought that Theyna had ever felt, even deeper than love or life or even fremming. She could not understand the word. Zoe and Victor attempted to translate Oon’s thought in their own minds but could not. Even the shallow and ultimately empty Earth concept of a monotheistic God was not grand enough to contain the thought that the Oon had sent them. For Theyna, the thought from the plant was in some ways as large as the concept of Asha or Asharra itself, yet oddly different. The Oon were in search of their own answers and their quest intersected that of the Earth teenagers. “I will roll together with you.” Oon thought”, as quickly as we can. 116

The Winds of Asharra The naked trio of mammals agreed and Oon slowly moved their limbs together, and pulled their lower three out of the ground. Without another thought in their direction, the Oon rolled very slowly down the path with them. Together, the four of them followed the path to the Osharra. As the odd group of beings proceeded down the curves of the path, flanked by the occasional hill or vegetation, it dawned on the Earth adolescents why the Oon did not come to the reed house. Not only could the Oon not share food with them since Oon were photo-synthetic like almost all plants, but more importantly because it would have been impossible for it to travel there and back at any sort of appreciable speed. It was simply a matter of mutual convenience for Oon to wait for Theyna to arrive back at the forked spot with the Earth adolescents. For the Oon it was being polite. To Theyna, it was being true. The Oon was unlike anything she had ever encountered on her world. It was in balance but yet it was not. In its own way, the Oon carried the scars of much sickness but yearned for peace and tranquility like any native born Asharran. The Oon did not need to develop their natural, primal and true selves, like the Earth adolescents. They did not need to develop a nish or a dox-mind. The Oon were male and female in one. Not better but a different way of being in balance. “There are no absolutes...” Theyna smirked, looking at the green ball, which ever so slowly rolled behind them. The Oon were already in touch with their primal minds. They were here to be cured and maybe to cure their world. Before long the path became a larger and larger curve and more and more places had intersections with other paths. This was because every Osharra was encircled by a round path with many places where it would jut out in different directions, like spokes from the round center of a 117

R. Leigh wheel. Many of those paths that shot out straight from the Osharra, eventually curved and intersected with others and ultimately led to many other Osharras. Each Osharra was in turn surrounded by the same circular path and the same intersecting points. In this way, all of the Osharras were loosely connected yet done in the most natural of ways, with more regard for the natural landscape than convenience or speed for travelers Yet, it was designed in such a way so that no matter what combination of paths one took, no matter which choice was a zig or a zig, you would always eventually wind up at an Osharra. In Asharran terms, you arrived Home no matter what you did. It did not matter which Osharra, which “homes between us” or “homes that separate us” you arrived it, it was still home. Later that day, Zoe, Victor Theyna and the Oon arrived at the closest Osharra. They arrived home and it was glorious. For Theyna it was familiar and comforting. The smells of home and the usual jumble of sights and sounds, the activities of the Osharra made her feel as though she had never left. Instead of quickening her pace when she saw it ahead of her, she slowed down, to savor each second. For Zoe and Victor, it was a different and wonderous experience, They came to a set of huge multi colored sparkly pillars, a sort of archway without any blocked door, which was obviously made from a polished and carved amalgam of the collected zim of the inhabitants. The two stones connected together as a triangular topped arch, with a smaller piece in the middle, symbolizing Yi and Ya, and many other Asharran concepts. In addition, it just meant Osharra, home. Passing through the arch and a lush yellow-gold area inside, the Earth teens finally had their first glimpse at the 118

The Winds of Asharra Osharra. It was nothing like they expected and so much more and less. They expected a series of mud huts. They expected a towering city in the clouds trimmed with gold, a row of castles followed by another row of pyramids. They expected dirt huts and skyscrapers depending on whether they were being scientific or optimistic or neither. This Osharra was none of those. The buildings were of several styles and the land between them wasn’t always flattened. You could clearly see golden-grass covered hills here and there, with buildings poking up behind them. The paths inside the Osharra were not surprisingly curvy and natural as they winded around the buildings and the open spaces. The structures seemed to be of a few general types. The first was clearly built of clay blocks, like an adobe home or a concrete bunker on Earth but adorned with all manner of things, some made of brightly colored zim, others having banners of something which definitely looked like cloth (It was the first evidence the Earth teenagers had that the Asharrans even possessed any cloth or weaving technology but clearly there it was). Most of these clay homes were asymmetrical with cut outs for windows and doorways in places you would not expect. Most were one story tall but a few were two or three. The next category of building seemed to be built of pure crystal, shining against the purple Asharran sky as spears of bright red, blue or yellow, twinkling and reflecting their light on the other buildings. They had markings carved into the area above the openings that served as doorways, but there were no other signs of adornment. The crystal buildings were at least four stories tall, and a couple seemed almost double that. There were also a few crystalline obelisks here and there, looking like the Washington 119

R. Leigh Monument or the Bunker Hill Monument on Earth except much prettier in shiny red or yellow, too narrow to enter but clearly there for some purpose. Each one had a specific symbol inscribed in them and no other elaborate decoration. The last type of structure that was immediately visible were long squat buildings that appeared to be identical to the Gleestoolia but only wider and at least twenty times in length. Decorations made of zim dotted some of them with no obvious apparent pattern. The arrangement of the various types of buildings appeared random at first but very organic. You had to look at it the way you observed a painting or even a floral arrangement. There was a rightness and a natural balance without direct symmetry at work. There were not sharp right angles of streets or clumps of suburban sub-divisions standing off to the side. In fact, it was impossible for the Earth adolescents to discern what was a house versus a store or a factory, if those categories even existed. At least from an aesthetic point of view, it did not matter since Osharra-kibur was wonderous as it was, without analysis, as were all Osharras even though none were exactly alike. Victor thought he could make out a elongated raised area closer to what must be the town center. He correctly guessed that this Town Circle, and must be where certain public rituals were performed including the Bonding Doings between couples. Apart from the beauty and variety of the buildings, the unidentifiable familiarity of their strangeness, it was the people that literally made Osharra-kibur come alive. The Asharrans were everywhere and they were all as naked as the adolescents. Zoe smiled and squeezed one of the globes of Victor’s tezz as she looked at the natural sight around her. He immediately glanced toward her 120

The Winds of Asharra and flashed a contented smile. He saw the Asharrans as they were and they were clearly happy. There amid all of the buildings, going about the duties and joys and accidents of daily life were the local Asharrans. There must have been several hundred of them in view at any time, making the adolescents guess that this town must number at least a few thousand. Most had orange skin of some kind although the exact shade seemed to very from a orange-gold through a copper color to a darker rust tone. Regardless of age or activity, they were all naked ,not counting some occasional bits of jewelry made of zim, on some nishs and some doxs. Lovers were walking dox in hand or grasping each others tezz-cheeks. Other Asharrans were carrying containers of various sorts, not hurriedly like a man with a briefcase, but happily and confidently. A few very old Asharrans were sitting on benches, sometimes surrounded by younger people, never excluded from the activity at least in spirit. Children darted in and out, squealing with delight and completely naked. Hairless doxs and darana’s bobbed up and down and disappeared into the distance as they were chased by equally hairless nishs, always unashamed. Victor chuckled that this was one mythical Garden where no one had been expelled by an angry god. Zoe saw two young Asharran children playing with a ball under the watchful gaze of an elderly bald Asharran, making the scene very familiar to her except for the obvious nudity. The scene further became uniquely Asharran as the two orange-skinned children who could not have been more than five or six, got into an argument concerning the way they were playing with the ball. Zoe couldn’t hear Zoe couldn’t hear the conversation from where she was standing but the older man’s gesture to the adolescents was familiar.. He was telling them to play nice and behave, but 121

R. Leigh without any anger. After a last attempt at teasing each other, the nude six year olds hugged but then began stimulating each other. The old Asharran nodded in approval as the Asharran nish grabbed her little friends small dox and began to play with it. The young playmate in turn was already rubbing her nish and grinning broadly. Yes, this was after all, Asharra and not Earth. There was no concept of shame or sin, original or otherwise. There seemed to be a wide variety to the Asharrans appearance although their nakedness emphasized their similarities. There were short Asharrans and tall ones. Hair colors seemed to include black, white, brown, gold, bald as well as a few who had dark green hair, although Zoe could not tell if it was natural or dyed. Not every Asharran had a perfect physique and there were many different body types represented although no one appeared fat, with only a few being heavy enough to even attempt calling them chunky. They were all healthy apparently, and not on the heavy side, typical of even Earth vegetarians and they jiggled and bounced and bobbed from side to side or up an down as they walked, with all body parts in view. As the Earth teens expected, the natural look was everywhere with triangular dark patches of hair between their legs (in addition to the two extra patches under the nipples of the female Asharrans). The doxs, the male Asharrans had the same pointy ears on top of their heads as the nishs, the females did, as well as the same large eyes. Most had the same broad noses and high cheek bones as well, making them look ethnically mixed by earth standards. However, there were a few with long pointy noses which stood out in the crowd. Victor guessed that in Asharran terms, this was neither judged neither better nor worse, just different and natural. Some Asharrans might prefer one to the other but it was shallow 122

The Winds of Asharra and not important to them and rarely given much thought. They had walked along into the Osharra for several , passed the zim arch when two older asharrans wearing bracelets of blue and gold zim but otherwise quite naked, rushed up to the group.. “We are sorry, Theyna,” one of them said,” but we can not allow this one here inside without treatment.” They gestured toward the Oon, who had stopped their slow roll and now had begun to gradually return to its tree shape, unfurling its limbs and sinking the bottom three into the ground. “What! That’s not fair!” Zoe pointed, ready to kick one of the older Asharrans in the darana’s. The Oon thought at the two Asharran doxs, briefly explaining his situation to them and reading their minds in the process. “You’re elders are mean.” said Zoe to Theyna in an angry pout. “They’re not elders. They are healers, here to help. They can sense pain and illness. They only wish to help Oon and make certain..” “That I am not contagious.” Oon thought at the small crowd, including the healers. “That is understandable.” “How sick are you?” Victor asked, curious but truly concerned about his new plant friend. “I have no thoughts that can describe this.” the Oon replied, “ I am connected to all of my past so some part of me is still warrior, no matter how tiny.” “And that part is clearly ill.” one of the Asharran healers answered with a firm but compassionate manner. “We can not allow Oon to enter further into the Osharra until we determine it is safe for us.” “And it is our duty to attempt to cure his pain and suf123

R. Leigh fering.” the other Asharran healer replied, “We mean no disrespect and honor your seed pods, mighty tree.” “I understand perfectly.” “It’s still not fair,” Zoe grumbled. “He wanted to speak with the elders, just like us.” “You wish to speak with Roqueetalu” the older healer asked, “I am sure that can be arranged. He will be more than happy to come out here to see you.” “Then there is no problem.” Victor concluded. “What if you can’t heal him?” “We will do our best.” the Asharrans replied, “and not give up until we have tried everything we know. Still, we have never seen your kind, Oon, or at least realized the degree of the spark of Asharra within you.” The tree paused and thought before replying as he did not wish to insult the Asharrans, “As a plant from a world of plants, I did not consider any spark in anything other than trees. We make the same error. There is no shame.” “We are true.” the healers smiled, “and so are you, my friend, in you’re own special way, so are you.” The healers, the earth adolescents and Theyna all turned their head suddenly toward a zooming sound and a blur which shot passed them. The Oon would have done the same if he had a head to turn. “Whoa....” Zoe yelled as she ducked, “Get down.” Everyone who had been circling the Oon crouched down low, bracing for unseen attack when the attacker finally came around for another run. Instead of attacking, it simply landed on one of the three branch-like upper limbs of Oons body. It was a dreegin. It was a familiar purple dreegin. It was .. “Huff!” Victor shouted. 124

The Winds of Asharra “I knew he’d come back!” echoed Zoe. “You named him?” Theyna exclaimed in surprise. Huff began to sing a complex happy tune while perched on Oon’s rightmost limb. “He seems to like it..it’s not like he’s a pet or anything...” Zoe pleaded to her older sister. “She means we don’t feed him or anything. The dreegin comes and goes whenever he pleases.” “As long as he is still free”, Theyna said in a semiserious tone, like an older sister giving permission or ground rules. “I swear on my nish.” Zoe said solemnly, trying to make up something that would convey the depth of her feeling. “Zoe?” Victor said, somewhat surprised. “Ok”, she laughed, “I swear on Victor’s darana’s.” Victor’s eyes widened as everyone standing there, Zoe, Theyna and even the two healers all stared at his darana’s. “By his darana’s, then.” one of the healers said seriously. “Fine then” Theyna replied, “we need not speak of the dreegin again.” Victor paused a second longer watching the others observe his darana’s. What had just happened? Leaving the two Asharran healers with Oon, Zoe, Victor and Theyna walked down the main path from the arch, deeper into the Osharra. The wonderful range of sights continued to widen as they continued. Now they were close enough to smell the town. It was a blend of wonderous scents of food and zim as well as a mix of the native Asharrans themselves. Victor and Zoe always thought the Theyna’s feline scent was subtle, except perhaps between her legs ,but in great numbers, the Asharran collective 125

R. Leigh scent was not subtle. It was natural and wonderful. The earth adolescents puzzled what it must be like to Asharrans, whose senses of smell were far more developed than humans on earth. For them it really would be the “Smells of Home”, rather than the cliche sights and sounds which earth people often quoted. No wonder Theyna brought them the Zimma berries. Theyna then gestured Eastward toward a cluster of buildings, obviously where Roqueetalu lived. They slowly made their way through the crowd coming within inches of many Asharrans of all shapes and sizes. In no instance did anyone ever look at Zoe or Victor with anger or distaste. Asharrans were open minded and not bigoted. Very few alive had ever heard of a human and only a couple of living Asharrans had ever spoken to one. In this way, the Asharrans perceived the trio as welcome and familiar, even though there was much new and different about them, True to the Asharran way, the Asharrans they passed enjoyed their diversity and their similarities and did not impose in any way. Yes, one little Asharran dox, no older than Zoe, did grab her left tezz-cheek, causing her to jump in initial horror, startled beyond belief. When the teenager, smiled apologetically, and pointed to his forehead and darana’s in friendship, Zoe was stunned. Her link with Theyna told her on some level that the young Asharran not only meant no harm, that he was captivated by her, both her beauty and her alien looks. Much to her own surprise, Zoe accepted the offer of friendship, repeating the now familiar Asharran ritual, touching his forehead and darana’s and reciting the appropriate words. “My name is Paru,” he said, “ and I am honored to be your friend and more , should you ever desire it.” Paru said in a plain honest way. “What is your name?” 126

The Winds of Asharra “Zoe” she replied matter of factly, “Zoe Siegel.” She made no effort to discourage him, regardless of the surprise. It only meant that Paru had been so captivated by her that he was pledging great admiration, affection and devotion as well as a pledge if things with Victor did not work out. Still, the incident made her pulse raise and Zoe felt the first flush of arousal, as her nipples became pointy. The fact that she did not feel the slightest bit embarrassed by this showed her that her nish-mind, her true self seemed right at home on Asharra. She gazed around at the sea of attractive males, the Asharran dox’s, and she felt pleased to be openly on display. She wasn’t trying to be provocative. The reverse was true in fact. Her lack of clothes, along with everyone else, meant that people were accepting her as she was with no need for makeup, fancy clothes or designer labels. If she was being admired, it was normal and natural and nothing more than a compliment. “Five minutes here..”Victor joked, “You work pretty fast.” “Paru is really taken with you.” Theyna giggled to her. With the ceremony complete, Zoe stepped back , uncertain whether to say anything, slowly began to walk away, with Victor and Theyna, towards the cluster of buildings. Suddenly, Theyna turned around, and ran the few steps back towards the younger Asharran. “This is something I have just learned about the culture of Earth, the Asharra where Zoe calls her Osharra”, Theyna said to Paru. She then placed her arms around him and kissed him. The kiss was friendly at first and then, at the slightest sign that Paru had opened his mouth sufficiently, it was warm and passionate, the Asharran way. Theyna kissed Paru as passionately as any lover would kiss her mate. Theyna 127

R. Leigh completed the single kiss, telling Paru what it was called on Earth. “Share that with your friends and anyone else.” Theyna said as she started to walk back. “It is the Earth way.” “It is the Asharran Way now”, Paru said as he started to openly play with his dox. Theyna rejoined Victor and Zoe and they walked away in the opposite direction. Zoe glanced over her shoulder at Paru. She could see him talking to a few other Asharran adolescents who had observed the recent situation, gathering around him. He stopped for a moment and kissed one of them as deeply as Theyna had done to him. “I think you’ve started something.” Zoe said to Theyna, surprised at what she had done. “I honor the wisdom of your nish.” she said to her younger Earth birth-sibling. “Sometimes I have things to learn from you and Victor. That is the way of Asharra. Once learned, the best things can be shared.” Victor chuckled to himself. He concluded that although Zoe hadn’t realized it, chances were very good that she was going to go down in Asharran history as the originator of the kiss, that is if Paru passed it along to enough contented Asharrans, crediting her as the source from Earth. In an odd way, the concept of Zoe accidentally becoming famous on Asharra was amusing and gratifying to Victor. It flew directly against the normal things he had been taught on Earth where fame was sought after and arrived after much striving. Here on Asharra, where the doctrine of Uatu or “focus without effort” was the key, anything could happen and quite frequently did. Pointing directly ahead at a tall blue crystalline building next to a couple of squat reed huts, Theyna announced that they were at their destination, the home of Roqueetalu the 128

The Winds of Asharra Elder. Given the Asharran way of doing things, it did not completely surprise either of the Earth adolescents when Theyna marched ahead of them and entered one of the tiny unassuming reed huts rather than the blue crystal tower. That would have been too Earth like, too obvious. Theyna stood only a few feet away speaking to a striking Asharran woman who appeared about fifty or sixty years old. She looked to be carved out of solid copper with well defined features and a nobility that instantly called to mind Greek or Roman statues for both of the adolescents. “My mate is spending time with the little ones inside”, the older Asharran woman said. She wore deep red zim jewelry including a large necklace between her large shalas. Other than that, she was naked as expected. It was the first time that Victor and Zoe had seen an older Asharran female without any clothes and were amazed how beautiful the result was. The Asharran, whose name was Weirrana looked wise and serene. She turned away from Theyna, the ample globes of her tezz bouncing along as she went. Theyna gestured for Zoe and Victor to approach the outside of the small reed hut. It appeared to be twice or three times the size of the Gleestoolia but otherwise identical to it in every way, including the lack of door or windows, having cut outs instead. It looked incongruous next to the towering blue crystalline building next to it, but somehow that didn’t matter. Victor was about to ask about the shiny blue structure. Everything in the world, his Earth world, told him to ask about it because it was bold and strange and impressive and magnificent. It warranted study and examination. He said nothing. Perhaps it would come up naturally in conversation. If not, he might inquire about it after their business with Roqueetalu was done here but 129

R. Leigh not before. Victor was learning in spite of himself. The principle of Uatu was taking hold. He was going with the flow, doing without doing. His Sha was flowing freely with the Asha. He was behaving Asharran. Presently. an older bald Asharran man came out of the open doorway with two small Asharran children. One was barely a toddler and was draped around the man’s neck and chest. It hung on tightly. You couldn’t see a dox or nish from the angle so it was difficult to determine what it was. The second child, a young dox who appeared about five stood next to his father and held the man’s free hand, grinning as you would expect a child that age to do, making random happy noises. All three were as usual, naked and the family were as striking and imposing as the female, the nish. It was enjoyable to just observe them together since it was the first opportunity that Victor and Zoe had to see a real Asharran family that had children. Victor stepped forward and, deciding not to shake hands Earth style, bowed his head slightly to the man in order to give him the honor he deserved. “I am Victor and this is Zoe. We’re from Earth.” he said in his most friendly yet grown up voice. The man smiled a wise and friendly smile at the 18 year old Earth dox. He released his hold on his son’s hand and instead placed his hand on Victor’s shoulder as a sign of mutual respect. “Welcome to Asharra, young ones of Earth. Welcome Home.” Victor and Zoe had increasing felt warmth and admiration toward this planet but actually hearing the wise man refer to it as their home sent a warm chill down their naked spines. “We are certain your dox-mind and your nish-mind will 130

The Winds of Asharra learn and enjoy much here in our Osharra.” “Thank you Roqueetalu.” said Zoe as she too stepped closer to the older Asharran. She noticed the shape of his bald head and concluded it did not diminish his sense of authority or wisdom one bit. He was authentically Asharran and natural and even noble in her eyes. “You must be mistaken.” the older man said,” My name is Hoofasma.” Zoe and Victor looked at each other in total confusion. “My name is Roqueetalu.” the little boy standing next to his father said, “and you have pretty shalas..” The earth teenagers looked down at the younger Asharran child in shock. “Can we play now? I have to go to sleep soon. You came to play with me, right?” Theyna looked at Zoe and Victor and finally noticed their surprise. It had completely slipped her mind when she had first spoke of this to them. That had occurred before the sisterly linking with Zoe’s nish-mind, before she realized that she could have been confused. On Asharra, there was no natural assumption of a tie between age and wisdom. Some wise Asharrans were old, some old Asharrans were wise. Neither was guaranteed or even expected. To the Asharrans, an Elder could be any age. It was clarity of feeling that was respected, not volume of mental memory. Many elders were old or at least adults. That was an even greater credit to them since the Asharran education system, which was voluntary , lifelong and unstructured spent half of its time teaching the Asharrans facts and lessons and examples, and the other half teaching them to forget the specifics, at least to forget to rely on them and only use them as examples of how to get in touch with their nish or dox131

R. Leigh minds. First they were taught to remember. Then they were taught to forget. The most successful and natural students often became elders. Very rarely, a child already possessed not only the natural wisdom inherent in all adolescents but also the extra wisdom of experience without actually experiencing anything. For Asharrans, it was easy to amass experience, It was hard not to lose the wisdom of innocence as your experience increased. When they balanced, you were truly wise since you expected anything, even though you knew possibilities and probabilities. You dreamed and believed and tested those dreams through experience. Roqueetalu was a small five year old child who played, sang, danced and became cranky when he was tired. He was also the Elder of Osharra-kibur. The trio entered the larger reed building with the Asharran family and proceeded to the area most similar to an Earth living room. Little Roqueetalu sat on the floor, surrounded by toys, mostly items made of zim or crystal of all shapes and sizes. “Story time!” the little dox exclaimed, “Tell me a story.” Victor attempted to start things off on a proverbial good foot and decided to act as master storyteller. The plan was to engage Roqueetalu with a famous fairy tale or two from Earth and then, when he was content, to attempt to ask him some much desired questions about Asharra. That was the plan. Victor attempted to tell the story of the Three bears. Roqueetalu only pouted. Victor tried to start the story of Little Red Riding Hood. Roqueetalu shouted. Victor even managed to begin the story of Robin Hood for the little Asharran’s amusement. Roqueetalu started throwing toys at them. “Empty stories, shallow stories, not true!” he roared in 132

The Winds of Asharra the demanding voice of a 5 year old. “He gets like this some times,” his mother gently apologized to the group. “It’s getting close to his sleep time.” Zoe decided it was her turn to attempt to appease the little tyrant. While Roqueetalu made faces at her, she decided to take an entirely different approach with the little monster. “Once upon a time on a planet called Earth, there lived a young dox named Victor and a young nish named Zoe.” she began. “Story time!” Roqueetalu squealed with delight, “true stories..” Victor nodded in approval as he watched Zoe weave her words together effortlessly into an appealing tale for the little Asharran. It was indeed a true story. “And the dox and the nish touched the Asharra-dobar and were magically taken to an amazing land called Asharra,” she continued where they discovered they had no clothes because they were not needed.” “Clothes makes you different than the other animals. It makes you far away from them and turns deep doings into shallow ones.” Roqueetalu interrupted. His words surprised his parents since they had never heard the word “clothes” before and they were completely certain that their son had not ever heard it as well, up until seconds ago.” “Clothes are empty, “the little Asharran continued, pointing to his tiny hairless darana’s, “they make you forget who you are and what you are. It is a pretending that is very shallow, not like pretending for a moment to be a rock or a plant or another animal. We play that way because we like them and want to be more like them. Clothes do the same thing backwards. They are empty.” 133

R. Leigh Zoe made sure that the Asharran dox was finished before she continued with the story. “One day, Victor and Zoe, definitely without any clothes, found themselves on Asharra thanks to the Asharra-dobar.” Roqueetalu picked up a toy which was clearly a model of an Asharra-dobar. “They opened it and looked inside and saw what was true.” Roqueetalu added. “We never opened anything.” Victor said in a stunned voice, looking at the young dox. “We just touched the artifact and it brought us here.” “That’s not how it works.” Roqueetalu smiled sweetly, “the dox and the nish touch it and open it and look inside and Kabwaalu!” He shouted and waved his skinny arms to indicate that something powerful would happen. “Well, we got the Kabwaalu without ever looking inside.” said Victor. “You never told me of this.” remarked Theyna. “I thought we did. “ Zoe replied. “No.” “It’s not important.” Victor broke in, “what is inside the Asharra-dobar? Why are we here?” “That’s easy.. you’re being silly.” Roqueetalu giggled with pure delight as he reached for the toy model. “He doesn’t know.” his father apologized, “none of us do. We make the decorated boxes out of zim. That is all we do. We never see what is inside. We’ve never been able to open one of the Asharra-dobars.” Almost effortlessly, Roqueetalu played with his toys. spinning the cube in his small hands as his father spoke. It spun faster and faster as the child juggled the toy, somehow 134

The Winds of Asharra managing to keep it from falling. The looks on his parents faces indicated that they were as shocked as everyone else present that Roqueetalu possessed any juggling skills. The small crowd inside of the reed house was spellbound. The only sounds audible were the happy playful squeals of Roqueetalu as he spun the zim cube faster and faster. Finally and without any warning he cupped his hands together and then separated them. The toy cube fell from the air as a hidden catch was opened and a shiny sphere rolled out. The box landed in one of Roqueetalu’s hands and the sphere in the other. “Kabwaalu!” the young dox shouted with joy. He held the perfectly round sphere which appeared to be made of crystal and moved it around rapidly as if making it fly through the air. “I didn’t know that toy could do that.” his father said to his mother, equally astonished. “How did you come upon this toy?” Theyna respectfully asked the parents. They looked at her and together spoke only one word: “Yavaran.” “She’s the other elder you told us about.” Victor said to Theyna. “The hermit lady.” Zoe clarified for effect. “Yes” “When did Roqueetalu receive this toy from Yavaran?” Weirrana, Roqueetalu’s mother smiled a gentle smile before offering up the answer. “She came to our Osharra one yi-time much earlier today, just before Roqueetalu was born.” “It was a rare event since she almost never leaves her own private Osharra.” “Yes, and she had a handful of toys with her. We as135

R. Leigh sumed she was going to trade with them, to barter as is the Asharran way. We met her by the great circle in the center of the Osharra. Victor, nodded with anticipation. That was the location where the most sacred Asharran Doings were publicly performed. “She gave us the toys when she saw that I was pregnant.” “And what did she say?” Victor asked with obvious anticipation. “Here are some toys for your child to be.” was the simple reply. It was not the answer that either Victor or Zoe were expecting. Was this simply a dead end? They had to know more. “Are stories all done so soon?” Roqueetalu whimpered, as if ready to cry. “No, little one.” Victor answered, “maybe they aren’t over. Let’s see.” Victor looked Roqueetalu straight in the little dox’s eyes and attempted to resume the story which Zoe had begun. He told Roqueetalu everything that had happened to them since they had arrived on Asharra, careful not to leave out any detail. It unsettled Zoe at first when those details even included a description of how they had made out, planned to fremm but how she ultimately fell asleep. All this, he told little Roqueetalu in addition to all of the details about the dreegins and the Oon and the nish-mind link with Theyna. Victor told Roqueetalu everything, fearing that it would effect his advice. Finally, the story was done. Victor stopped and sat back, scratching his naked tezz without thought as he waited for a reply. The rest of the nude assembly sat or stood spellbound waiting for Roqueetalu to say something, anything, after hearing such a detailed story. 136

The Winds of Asharra “You had to tell him about how I fell asleep.” Zoe whispered to Victor. “It sounded wonderful.” Theyna said, attempting to console her, “I would have loved to have seen it.” Zoe rolled her eyes and finally decided to go with the flow. She embraced the Uatu doctrine and decided after all, that she had nothing to hide. Her most intimate details were nothing but moments of truth and that telling them to others was true, no matter what. Victor had done the correct thing, revealing everything to the little crowd. It was the correct thing but would it be useful? “A wonderful story.” Roqueetalu finally chuckled. “And a true one.” “Do you have anything else to say to Victor and Zoe?” his mother asked gently. “We have so many questions about the Asharra-dobar, how we got here, why we got here.” “Do you want to go back?” Roqueetalu asked bluntly. The question stunned Zoe and Victor as they weren’t expecting it. “Do you want to go back to Earth?” he repeated in a small but firm voice. “I don’t know.” Victor replied, “although I do miss my father.” “Shallow.. shallow shallow.” Roqeetalu taunted. “It is not, “Victor protested. “My father is a great man, a wonderful man.” “You are silly. “ Roqueetalu laughed. “I did not say that your Da was shallow. You are being shallow. You are pretending.” He turned his attention to Zoe next. “And you, do you want to go back to Earth?” “No” she answered without hesitation. 137

R. Leigh “She is not being silly. “ Roqueetalu said flatly. “You two need to talk.” “But we have many more questions..” Victor pleaded, “about the Asharra-dobar...” “And we’d like to learn more about Asharra so we can act more like the Asharrans.” said Zoe in a semi-sad voice. Roqueetalu squinted his eyes and then made them as wide as he could “Silly nish. “ he finally said to Zoe, “You are Asharran, just not born on Asharra.” He returned to playing with his toys while Zoe and Victor attempted to decipher the meaning of his words. “We are changing, “ Victor remarked to Zoe, “I mean, our zim and everything.” “That’s not what he means and you know it, Vic” Zoe replied. “What he is saying goes much deeper.” Without even further debate, Victor knew that what Zoe was implying had to be true. They felt increasing more Asharran since the moment they had arrived on the planet and perhaps even before, when they would occasionally listen to their nish or dox-mind. They never really fit in on Earth, never really could assimilate into the distortions of Earth culture, which was rapidly becoming anti-Asharran, anti-feline, Dog culture. They were never a part of Dog Culture. They were not ill or empty, but what of the people of Earth? “Asharra is everywhere. Everything is Asharran.” Roqueetalu giggled, gesturing his hands in a wide circle to encompass the sky. “He knows nothing of other worlds,” his father offered “but he speaks the truth. You are Asharran. Everyone and everything is Asharran if it chooses to be true and not give up.” “We are Asharran.” the Earth teenagers repeated, as 138

The Winds of Asharra they clasped their hands together. They stood there, naked in the reed house, their bare skin in sharp contrast with the orange skin of Theyna, Roqueetalu and his family, but they were Asharran too. Everyone could be if they were not ill, not empty. Everyone could be from Asharra. Everyone could be home. In fact, for the Earth adolescents to regard themselves as Asharran was the Asharran way according to their own logic. Asharra was indeed a place, a planet, a “home all around us” and in its most abstract terms, it did refer to the universe, the cosmos. Yet, the term Asharran referred to any being whether animal, vegetable or mineral which embraced the Asharran philosophy, embraced being true. Any creature who cherished the Asharran ways of noncompetition, compassion, vegetarianism, naturalness and passion for life, as well as the more esoteric Asharran concepts such as the Asha, the Uatu and others, was in fact Asharran. Similarly, he, she or it would have to reject the excessively shallow and the empty. They would attempt to rid them selves of illness, which for the Asharrans would include such unnecessary diseases as hatred, envy, bigotry and ignorance. They would reject all that was antiAsharran and since the Asharrans were descended from a proto-feline race, the prospective Asharran would be rejecting anything canine, anything of the Dog Culture of Earth which relished its sense of territory, its packs and its methods of social control through aggression and fear. “You are Asharran”, Roqueetalu said again, to Victor and Zoe, “even before you agreed to come here.” “Agreed?” Victor repeated. “You found an Asharra-dobar and it found you.” the tiny dox continued. “You touched it together and it touched you. Since you were all the same, it brought you here.” 139

R. Leigh “Is the Asharra-dobar alive then?” Zoe asked. “Yes and no.” he answered. “Is what is inside the Asharra-dobar alive”, Victor asked, attempting to be more specific. “Yes and no”, Roqueetalu replied, in a slightly firmer childlike tone, not annoyed but trying to repeat his point. “Both and neither.” “I don’t understand.” Zoe said bluntly. “Neither do I” said Roqueetalu. “It’s fun anyway, isn’t it?” Victor wondered if the other elder, Yavaran held more specific answers than the 5 year old dox. All of his inner feelings in his dox-mind told Victor that was the case. Yavaran was supposedly older, an adult and certainly was wise enough to recognize Roqueetalu as a child prodigy, a natural elder, a Rohulu, even before he was born. Why else would she give a model of an Asharra-dobar to his parents? There was also the case of the contents of the toy and the fact that neither Victor nor Zoe had ever actually opened the artifact on Earth. It never opened for them either, if you were supposed to look it at that way. Would things have happened any differently if the box had opened to reveal, whatever it was, the sphere inside. Would they have gained even greater insight prior to being transported to Asharra? Victor even pondered for a moment the terrible possibility that they would never have been transported at all if that had happened. He dismissed the idea as shallow and empty a moment later. That was just some remnant of Dog Culture insecurity left over in his head-mind. His doxmind made him feel secure that all was happening as it should, even though it appeared to make no sense. “I have never heard of anyone coming to Asharra without opening the Asharra-dobar.” Theyna offered the group. 140

The Winds of Asharra “I was always taught it was a special gift for the Iramu, the Invited Ones. Roqueetalu’s father agreed, adding that it was not something ever seen by Asharrans native to the planet but not viewed as something they lacked or should envy. It was just a necessary part of the process by which the Iramu accepted the invitation to come to Asharra. “What else can you tell us about the Asharra-dobar and the Iramu?” asked Zoe to Roqueetalu. “It’s a weelu, a party. Yi-time and Ya-time are a weelu and you were invited.” “That’s nice, “ Zoe grinned, absorbing some of what he meant. “We’re invited guests.” added Victor. The little Asharran dox scowled and frowned. “Not guests, Asharrans.. It is a weelu for Asharrans. You were just going to an Osharra you have not been to before. “ “In your words, you were family coming home for a reunion.” Theyna tried to explain as best she could, using the Earth images and words from the sisterly link with Theyna. “And if we wish to return to Earth after the reunion is over?” asked Victor. Roqueetalu paused and thought for a few moments before answering. He played with a few of his toys momentarily, causing everyone else present to wonder if he had suddenly become bored with the conversation or if he had no answer or opinion. Finally, as abruptly as he had begun his diversion, he put the toys down and spoke to the little crowd. “Weelus don’t have to end. They never end but Iramu can decide to take a walk if they want, to go down another path. The Weelu doesn’t end. It only begins.” It would be Victor’s choice if he desired to return to Earth and an equal choice to remain. The party to which 141

R. Leigh they had been invited, the weelu would continue regardless. Additional family members would continually be invited to the reunion, even extremely distant family members like the Oon. It was clear to Victor how personal and situational this decision could be. Clearly the Oon, after receiving their own questions answered and perhaps their last remaining drops of inner warrior healed, would desire to return to Shellibak, to teach the other Oon a better way of life, the Asharran way. It made Victor realize that perhaps, that is what some Earth people who apparently had visited Asharra in the past had done. They returned back to Earth spreading some Asharran concepts of non violence, cooperation and peace when they returned. They even in some cases transferred the knowledge of some Asharran words, pictures or images to Earth, even when in the process of getting some aspect wrong or backwards. Sympathetic dreegins became fierce dragons for instance and the Yi Ya symbol of the two Asharran suns, a symbol for balance, was remembered as the Yin Yang but the exact image it represented was lost. It confused Victor and made him feel slightly sad when he concluded that these Iramu who returned to Earth still could not eradicate the violent and ignorant illness which he now called Dog Culture. He recalled the mistake of the Oon when they destroyed the Jurulamadan and instead decided that curing the disease was always better than killing the patient, even if it took longer. In the case of Earth, the disease of Dog Culture beliefs had spread so far to so many and so deeply that it seemed a monumental task to cure the planet. Yet, at least some Earth-born Asharrans, some Iramu, had obviously attempted this by returning to Earth and stopping their participation in the Weelu, the party or 142

The Winds of Asharra interplanetary family reunion. Would things be even worse on Earth if they had not returned? Was it his duty? And what about his father? Was it a shallow reason to return only because of him? The entire issue confused Victor and made it difficult for him to clearly hear his inner voice within his dox-mind. He wanted to stay on Asharra with Zoe and live a perfect life but was that being irresponsible either to his father or his species? It seemed clear that Roqueetalu could point him in the direction of things requiring more study but that the little dox did not have enough answers. Victor would have to know those answers before he made his decision. He would have to know exactly what was the assumption and the purpose behind the Asharra-dobars. Was it really as simple as it sounded? There were obviously many details missing. What was really inside? How did the process work? Who started it and why? On a concrete level, he didn’t even know HOW to get back to Earth, if that is what he ultimately might decide. He was sure that Roqueetalu would not be able to answer these specifics. That would require a different kind of elder. That would hopefully be Yavaran. “My turn for story time.” Roqueetalu shouted. “My turn.” “You have a story for us?” Theyna asked, familiar with some of the more obvious Asharran stories and legends and curious which one the little dox would select. “Oh yes,” he beamed with joy, “I share deep stories.” “Then please, tell us a story.” Zoe asked in a clear and true voice which was filled with her sincerity and anticipation. She was ever more feeling home on Asharra. The words did indeed mean the same thing for her, both figuratively and literally. The memories she shared with Theyna all proved that Asharra was rapidly becoming where she 143

R. Leigh felt at home, regardless of the fact that she was sitting naked in someone’s living room while outside, not too far away, her two newest friends were a tree and a dragon, a dreegin. It was surreal and true at the same time. “Let us go to the Cooba first, “Hoofasma, Roqueetalu’s father, suggested. He pointed towards some cushions surrounding a low table at the other end of the room. Apparently, while there were a variety of eating styles of Asharra, the preferred way was to sit on cushions around something similar to an Earth coffee table, long and low to the floor. Plates or bowls or glassware would be placed on the table, called a kelbomo, but were most often eaten by placing the plate in your lap or holding it with one hand while you ate with the other. You could use utensils or fingers, whatever you preferred. Again, there were no absolutes as was the case with many things on Asharra but tall dining tables and chairs were rare since most Asharrans would feel that it would diminish the sense of relaxation and closeness when they ate. Higher tables and chair like structures (as opposed to cushions) were not unknown however, being utilized quite frequently by Asharrans when precision work was being done, either alone or in a group. This could include sorting items, drawing, or constructing or decorating various articles. Eating was a shared and festive occasion and when possible, the Asharrans tried to keep it as natural and informal as possible. Victor, Zoe and Theyna relocated to the Cooba area and sat on various cushions (called datau or looshi’s depending on their shape) of different colors, sizes according to one’s preferences. On Asharra. it was common to have either doxs or nishs be the primary food-artist, zata-lu or cook and in several cases, most of the mates prepared the meal. In Hoofasma’s osharra, he was the undisputed ttema-lu. They 144

The Winds of Asharra dined on a variety of items, mostly unfamiliar to the Earth teens. Some of the food was room temperature while other items were warm to hot, causing Zoe to wonder if there was a dreegin helping with the food preparation. Theyna saw the look in her Earth-sister’s eyes and guessed her question. She silently pantomimed some sort of crystal shape for Zoe, as if to answer her. Naturally, this did not help. Both Victor and Zoe would have normally been full of questions and comments about the food. What is this? Did you make this yourself? That is Delicious. That sort of thing. Yet, the strangeness and the wonderfulness of the situation seemed to override any immediate urge to do so at the moment. Here they were, instead of dressing for dinner or even washing up, sitting happily naked on cushions surrounded by an equally nude Asharran family they had just met. Apparently, whatever they were having, which resembled a blue mashed potatoes, tasting spicy and served with some soft vegetables, was a favorite of young Roqueetalu since he offered not even a dim protest against delaying his story. They hadn’t finished their meal but were all slowing down enough so that Hoofasma interrupted the group, suggesting that Roqueetalu could begin his story as the group finished the last of their meal in a slow and lazy manner. Hoofasma’s mate, Weirrana, rubbed the palms of her hands against his bald head, in a gesture of obvious warmth before dropping one to his dox. She then looked at her little son for permission for something as he would begin his story. He nodded in the affirmative, perhaps a mostly universal signal, that the distraction would not damage his story, and Weirrana began passionately caress her mate while Victor, Zoe and Theyna sat on the datau cushions, 145

R. Leigh waiting for the story to begin. “It’s not impolite to play with others as long as the story teller, the zhila-lu, does not object.” said Theyna, trying to reassure Victor and Zoe of the proper etiquette. Somehow, they already felt that this was true. “Much much earlier today “, Roqueetalu began his story in the traditional Asharran way, “ there lived a dox named Ran and a pretty nish named Ra. They were born so much earlier today that Asharra was a different place. It was only Osharra. There was not Home all around, only in small places. Many people were ill and the illness made them look at themselves differently. The Asharrans back then were all covered with fur, not just here.” Roqueetalu touched the spot between his legs and pointed to the bottom part of his mother’s shalas, even as she continued to suck the dox of her mate during his story. Roqueetalu paused a beat, looking at his parents contentedly, and then continued. “Back then the people had long pointy teeth and even used them to bite things when they were angry. They even bit each other too. Ra and Ran did not bite other Asharrans, even if they were mad at them. It was not their way. They did not wish to hurt anyone. “ “They sound like I would like them, “ Zoe interrupted, turning a shade of bright red between her small shalas as she realized what she had done. “I said, they did not wish to hurt anyone and many of the people in the place where they lived noticed this. The world was very sick then. There were Osharras here and there but not enough to make everyplace Asharra. The sick people noticed that they did not have to be angry at each other and were told by Ra and Ran that biting was silly and empty. 146

The Winds of Asharra The leader of one group, after hearing about this, told Ra and Ran that he did not care. He killed another creature in front of them and ate it, even as its life drained away. Ra and Ran were shocked and sad when they saw this. They tried harder and harder to teach everyone they knew that killing and biting were wrong and sick. Here and there, a few Asharran people quietly listened to them and decided to try the new way, but only here and there. The world was sick and getting sicker. Finally, the leader of the first town they had spoken to had an idea. You have to remember that they were so sick that they had leaders then, people who did nothing else but tell others what to do. No one listened to their nish or their dox-mind. The first leader told the leaders of all of the other places where the people lived, places that weren’t even called osharras because they weren’t homes, not to let Ra and Ran in when they traveled. The leaders got together and made sure that no place would accept Ra and Ran and the two of them went off into the forest. There weren’t even any paths then. You just would wander around..” Roqueetalu paused again and made his eyes wide and scary before resuming his story. “Ra and Ran became mates and decided to go as far away from the others as possible. They walked and walked until they came to a great lake, called Kibur. No one was living near the lake because even earlier that day, there had been a disaster there, scaring everyone away. Ra and Ran made a little reed house to live in and promised not to block the openings so that travelers could visit them if any should discover where they were,” “The first Gleestoolia was their home.” Zoe correctly thought to herself. “Ra and Ran never left their home and never taught 147

R. Leigh anyone about not biting or killing unless it was a visitor who found their home by accident. They knew that the sick people and their leaders would never be made well without this knowledge but they could only tell a few people.” Victor assumed he knew how the story would end. Through an ongoing grass roots process, a small number of Asharrans would teach others who would in turn teach others, until all of Asharra eventually would turn away from violence. Nothing could have been further from the truth.” “Even though a few people discovered Ra and Ran and some even went to find them, “Roqueetalu continued, “it was not enough to change the minds of the sick people and cure their biting illness. This made Ra, the nish, sad and she began to cry. She cried for a long time and even Ran could not make her stop. Later that day, a flock of dreegins appeared above their home. They had heard her sad la and for the first time, made a la for people, to help Ra and Ran, because they were sad. This made Ra and Ran stop crying and live a happy life without thinking of the other people.” Theyna was familiar with this old story and thought that Roqueetalu had told it very well. She would have used a few different words here and there but basically, he had done a very deep job. She saw that his effort was true. Theyna was, however, shocked, when little Roqueetalu continued the story past this point. After all, that was the way it always ended. They dreegins had comforted Ra and Ran and the mates lived out their lives, happy that they had never given up, no matter what. Yet, Roqueetalu was continuing. His story was continuing. “Then when the dreegins finished their la for Ra and Ran “he unexpectedly continued, “they flew to the Kibur and repeated their la in the air and over the water. Deep below it made the Red Sleeper healthy and not sad. The Red 148

The Winds of Asharra sleeper cured the people and promised to help Ra and Ran and all like them. That is true.” Roqueetalu ended the tale with those words and went back to playing with his toys. “I’ve never heard it end that way.” Theyna remarked. Hoofasma and Weirrana had finished expressing their passion and decided to join in on the conversation since the story was over. “He always tells it that way.” Weirrana explained, “It’s not something we taught him or even anything he heard there.” She pointed out the window at the tall blue crystalline structure. “Of course”, Victor thought to himself, “it’s a school. Roqueetalu lives next door to the school. He probably takes turns teaching there and being taught.” “I loved the story,” Zoe told little Roqueetalu, “but I have one little question. Who is the Sleeper and how did he cure the rest of the people?” “I don’t know.” Roqeetalu answered honestly, “That’s not told in the story.” Victor was beginning to think that wisdom on Asharra was like layers of an onion. As you peeled away more, there were always more to go. It at least seemed that way for now. He wondered if Yavaran could be the true answer to their questions. The little dox’s story only added a couple more to the growing list. If he was ever going to decide if he should stay on Asharra or return to Earth, at least some of the answers to guide him might come from Yavaran. Story time was over and both Victor and Zoe jointly decided that while very beneficial, their time with Roqueetalu and his family should come to an end. After consulting first with Theyna as to the proper way to excuse them149

R. Leigh selves, They left the Asharran family’s osharra within Osharra-Kibur although not entirely certain how to proceed. Theyna had previously told them that Yavaran was the closest thing to a hermit that the native born Asharrans had, she rarely came to an Osharra and her home was hidden away somewhere beyond any of the paths. It was difficult to find and surprisingly its location not someone speculated on by many Asharrans. They were all content to just let Yavaran live her own way, even if it was eccentric, even by Asharran open-minded standards. “If we were back on Earth, we could write her, email or text her,” Zoe moaned. “Not very likely. Have you seen many computers or cell phones since we’ve arrived?” “No, “ Zoe replied to Victor, forcing a smile as she admired the way the purple sunlight was reflecting and glistening in his hair. “We could send Yavaran a message.” offered Theyna in a helpful but oddly unemotional tone. “Why didn’t you tell us that before?” said Victor, his voice getting a little edgy as he had dismissed this possibility. Theyna looked at the Earth dox and her eyes became sad for a brief moment. It was a simple matter to deduce this because of their great size and the clarity behind them. Victor kissed her on the cheek to silently apologize for his flash of anger. Theyna kissed him on the mouth to indicate that everything was fine between them. Zoe wasn’t exactly certain how she felt about introducing kissing to Asharrans as she saw Theyna deeply kissing her new boyfriend. “There is a tiira-lu, a crystal artist here in the Osharra. He could grow a message to her.” 150

The Winds of Asharra “Excuse me?” Zoe exclaimed. “We use crystals for many things,” Theyna replied. “Depending on the skill of the tiira-lu, they can do many amazing things from assisting us in curing illness, heating our food, to storing knowledge and making wordless la’s. Although some of the applications seemed extraordinary to Victor, the basic principles seemed sound, even on Asharra. After all, on Earth we did all sorts of things with lights being passed through lasers, via crystals and modern computer theory did talk about the hypothetical density of crystal storage as opposite to individual chips or traditional magnetic storage means. Was it that amazing to think that the Asharrans had developed a civilization that utilized crystals the way civilizations on Earth had utilized Stone, Copper, Iron and later Electronics? Perhaps in this one way, they were even a little more advanced than Earth technology? Perhaps that was the benefit of skipping some or all of the other phases. Zoe’s nish-mind link with Theyna supported Victor’s theories and gave flashes of insight into some of her older sister’s words. Now at least, thanks to Theyna’s comments, she could more easily interpret some of the images. Still, a few of them involving multi-colored crystals of different shapes and sizes, remained mysterious and vague. In time, perhaps that would change. “Do you know where this crystal maker lives?” Zoe asked her sister. “I can find it. The tiira-lu will listen to the message we wish to send, and with the necessary tools, grow the appropriate crystal.” “And that will get to Yavaran how... will it just be transmitted to some crystal of hers or will it have to be delivered by someone?” asked Victor. 151

R. Leigh “That will depend on how quickly she must receive the message and what we can barter for the crystal.” came the reply. “Since I don’t have anything in my pockets, “laughed Zoe, pointing to her naked body, “it will have to be done the slowest way.” “Maybe our zim might be worth something?” Victor suggested. “Of course, “the orange skinned Asharran nish replied to the Earth adolescents. “It is such made of such pretty blue and green sparkles. The tiira-lu will determine how best it will harmonize with Asharran crystal use.” “And how is that?” Victor wondered out loud. “I have no idea. I have never seen zim from Earth. I do know that every time we have new Iramu on Asharra, that some new properties of their zim are added to our culture. Perhaps the tiira-lu will find your zim very useful in some way.” “And if he doesn’t?” Zoe softly whispered, “what do we do then?” “There are many lu’s, many types of artists. All zim is useful as decoration. Some have other properties either by themselves or when exposed to Asharran plants, minerals, crystals or even animals. Who knows in what ways Earth zim might be helpful?” Victor looked up into the sky, seeing that it was still Ya-time and very bright but still uncertain exactly how to tell time on Asharra. “It sounds like between finding the tiira-lu and growing a message crystal, we’ll be spending at least another yitime here. Shouldn’t we also find someplace to sleep? Something like a Gleestoolia, a hotel or something?” “We don’t need to, Vic. Theyna said that she originally 152

The Winds of Asharra came from Osharra-kibur. We can stay at her house, her osharra? Is that true?” “Oh yes”, Theyna beamed brightly, “That was my intention all along. We will sleep on my looshis at yi-time. That is true.” After some additional discussion on the matter, the trio decided to temporarily split up, with Victor going to back the arch to see the Oon and inform him of their plans as well as sharing the knowledge they had received from Roqueetalu. Though not willing to verbalize it to the group, victor privately hoped that a one on one conversation with the Oon after sharing Roqueetalu’s knowledge, might be helpful in his own quest to determine whether he should remain on Asharra or return to Earth. He also would pass along the message to the Oon that little Roqueetalu would soon come out to visit him personally (since the plant creature was not allowed to wander about the city, at least until he was not deemed contagious). Zoe and Theyna were going to locate the crystal artist and determine if Earth zim was sufficient to offer as barter for the creation of a message crystal to Yavaran. They had not discussed the contents of the message as a group but there seemed plenty of time for that, if indeed the crystal had to be grown to the proper size and shape. At least that was the plan. The trio then temporarily split up into two distinct groups. The two naked nishs headed east while the nude Earth dox headed southwest within the Osharra, back towards the arch. He was confident that he wouldn’t get lost since the winding paths within the Asharra all eventually made their way to one of two central points, the entrance to the Osharra, the arch, or the town circle, where the public rituals, the Doings, were performed. The plan was for the 153

R. Leigh group to reunite at the town circle, the other location easy enough to locate for all. Without any further thought to the situation, Victor dashed off in the general direction of the distant arch, a happy barefoot jog on the curvy path. “Down the yellow brick road, I go”, Victor chuckled to himself as he sprinted along the dirt path, occasionally lined with sparkly zim on its sides. The analogy made him laugh. He didn’t really think of the dreegin as Toto the dog and there certainly wasn’t a wicked witch in sight, but the entire adventure so far, had been as surreal as the old Earth fable of the Wizard of Oz. Perhaps in some ways, it was a little like Alice in Wonderland too, but given a nod to Victor’s dox-nature, he re-worked that in his mind as similar to the Labors of Hercules instead. Still, such comparisons were now becoming far less important to him. Now, happily walking naked in the warm Asharran sun inside the town, Osharra-kibur, Victor felt more natural than heroic, more primal than mythic. He felt like himself for the first time in his life. Sure, there were a few slightly embarrassing moments when he would find himself staring a bit too obviously at the all of the naked Asharrans around him but those moments passed as he realized that his tezz and dox and darana’s were just as visible to everyone as their bodies were to him. He was just being himself and no one minded. No, even more than that. That is what they expected and welcomed. Anything else would have been empty. It would have been crazy. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was paying too much attention to the local scenery or if he had just been unaccustomed to going barefoot outside but without warning, Victor stumbled, catching one foot against an odd stone that was protruding from the side of the path. In al154

The Winds of Asharra most all cases, the paths were free from such things and even this one could have been clearly avoided as it was by everyone else. However, Victor still tumbled over and landed head first on a bank of soft golden grass. A group of four or five Asharrans immediately came running over to see if he was alright Having his ego damaged significantly more than his body, Victor smiled and waved off the small crowd, indicating to them as best he could, that he he was not injured. That was not entirely true as he soon discovered when he attempted to get to his feet, his bare feet. A jolt of pain zapped through his naked body, surprising the 18 year old with its intensity. He doubled over and crouched, trying to remove as much weight as possible from his left leg. It wasn’t broken but at best, he had twisted or strained the muscles near his ankle and running down the front of his foot toward his toes. Luckily, not all of the small Asharran group had heeded his non verbal message as quickly as he had thought. A pair of Asharrans, a young nish and a dox who appeared in his late 40’s or early 50’s were the closest to him and heard his primal sound of pain. They turned and rushed once again, back towards the Earth teen. “Stay with him, “the Asharran dox ordered the young nish, “I’ll get my doh-rah.. “ He flashed a warm smile which fell in the center of his short black hair and closely cropped beard. With his feline ears standing on top of his head , the overtly muscular Asharran looked like some Earth image of a Greek or Roman god or some nude Atlas or Hercules. In a proverbial flash, the stranger was gone, obviously in search of something that would be helpful in this situation. Victor wasn’t sure if he should wish for a splint or a doctor or a cane. In any case, he wasn’t about to go anywhere. 155

R. Leigh “You are very ya-sha, very ya-sha. “the pretty nish. said, “ as she crouched next to him on the grass, before he even really looked at her. The terms weren’t immediately familiar to him, but the use of the word “sha” for personal energy and the suffix “ya” as in the larger Asharran sun, made Victor conclude that he was being complimented. “Will it take him long to get back here?” Victor asked, staring down at his injured leg and not focusing on the girl. He wondered if his question was shallow since Asharran’s concept of time, an eternal today, was so different than his. Did she even understand what he meant ? Still, he hoped some relief from the pain would be forthcoming. He learned that as long as he put minimal pressure on his left leg, the pain was reduced to a minor dull pulling sensation. He leaned back and sat on the small golden grassy hill. Luckily this path was far away from the others that Victor didn’t feel on display for all of the Osharra. Since the main paths could get very busy, he was grateful that if he had to fall like he did, it wasn’t in the center of town. Then again, if he had, maybe someone would have returned already with a doh-rah, whatever that was. When she did not immediately answer, Victor at last turned his attention to the Asharran female sitting next to him on the soft yellow grass. The little Asharran nish was maybe a few years younger than Theyna, perhaps the same age as Zoe and him, possibly the daughter of the man, or a much younger mate. It was impossible for Victor to determine this. After all, he was preoccupied with the impossibility of standing upright and the little matter of the excruciating pain. Still, one thing was for certain, he was mesmerized by the sight of this particular nude Asharran and the importance of the pain seemed to temporarily take 156

The Winds of Asharra second place to a calculated examination of her from head to toe. There was something odd and captivating about her, something unusual and striking. It wasn’t that she was conventionally beautiful, though she was tall and thin. It was something else, something disturbingly unfamiliar. “My name is Ionera, “ the Asharran nymph like nish introduced herself, pointing to her shalas. They were slightly smaller than Theyna’s, maybe a tiny bit larger than Zoe’s and had nipples that were a dark red color. Her overall skin coloring was darker than Theyna’s or Roqueetalu and his family for that matter, a sort of orange copper color. Victor had seen some Asharrans in the larger Osharra with skin the same hue but not this close. It glistened in the brighter purple rays of the Ya sun. Her hair on head as well as the hair on the bottoms of her shalas and surrounding her nish was a rich dark brown. Her nose was of the rarer pointy variety but her ears. like all native Asharrans were feline and stood at the top of her head. Needless to say, she was completely naked except for a jet black pendant around her neck and one ankle bracelet. Her legs seemed exceptionally long, giving her a somewhat unbalanced look. Lastly, she had large yellow-brown eyes which seemed to be something you could lose yourself in, if you weren’t careful. She was unsettling and attractive at the same time and Victor found that he could not take his eyes off of her. He had been surrounded by two naked females, one who clearly wanted him to fremm her, but only now was he feeling as though time was standing still. Inside the recesses of his brain, there were tiny popping noises going on but the teen was too preoccupied with the sight of the strange nish to notice. She looked oddly familiar to him, not that she resembled anyone he knew but rather that she evoked a sense of home. He couldn’t decide if he was picturing her back 157

R. Leigh on Earth in Cambridge or as she really was, under the violet sky. “You are Iramu, not born on Asharra?” she asked in a soft voice, slightly lower in pitch than he would have expected. “Yes, I’m from Earth... very far away I guess. My name is Victor Durant” Ionera let out a small coltish laugh as she noticed that Victor’s dox was reacting to her. This surprised him on several levels. First of all, he had seen dozens and dozens of nude Asharrans of all shapes and sizes in the Osharra but this was his first obvious reaction to one of them since he entered the town. Second, given the fact that doxs would be doxs, he assumed that Asharran nishs of any age would be so accustomed to the involuntary reaction of a erect dox suddenly pointing at them that it would not cause them to react, and certainly not to laugh. Ionera brushed her hair backwards. She wore it on the short side, which seemed unusual to Victor since most Asharran nishs he had seen so far had much longer hair. Well, there were no absolutes after all. “Welcome to Asharra, Victor Durant of Earth,” Ionera giggled in mock formality. This also surprised Victor since it was not exactly what Theyna had said to expect. Victor still wasn’t exactly sure about all Asharran ways. “Does your foot hurt a lot?” she asked. “Only if I try to stand on it.” Victor chuckled as if he had made a joke. “The doh-rah will help. I promise. “ Ionera said sweetly. “I hope we can get to know each other better, “ Victor stuttered, now clearly flustered by his reaction to the nude nymph. “I mean, after my leg is better.” 158

The Winds of Asharra “You really feel that way?” she grinned in an oddly surprised way. “Sure”, he mumbled back, realizing the immediate attraction to her. “We do not have to wait,” Ionera replied in a cryptic manner, as she suddenly extended her right arm and with no advanced warning, encircled his dox with her right hand. This also surprised Victor since it was not exactly what Theyna had said to expect. Still, he wasn’t exactly sure about all Asharran ways. Before he could think of what to say, she squeezed him, and all he could do was let out a sigh. Seeing this, the odd Asharran nish giggled again and began to move her hand while still holding his dox in a way very familiar to Victor. She was publicly stimulating him and seemed casually relaxed and pleased at the obvious reaction it was causing. A few Asharrans casually walked by from time to time on the less traveled path, as Victor sat speechless on the ground, not able to stand, All the while, Ionera smiled at him and played with him. “Do you want me to stop?” Ionera asked bluntly. Victor tried to think straight, confusing the pain in his foot with the pleasure he was experiencing. He opened his mouth to answer but before he could reply, his darana’s tightened and he shot several spurts of cum directly onto Ionera. One rope like piece landed between her shalas. Part of a second graced her thigh. The remaining part landed in her hair and partially on her nose and mouth. The strange Asharran nish smiled, licked it from her lips and only said “Pure ya-sha, just like you, Victor Durant.” Victor was a bit unsure of the protocol in this situation although the pleasure he was experiencing was wonderful. Theyna’s advice was not as helpful as he thought and he 159

R. Leigh perhaps had already improvised too much in what he had said to the amber eyed Asharran, which may have provoked her very friendly advance. Before he could ponder his pleasurable predicament, the older Asharran dox returned. He ran straight toward Victor at a determined and powerful pace. His name was Oppapalo and he was a perfect example of a mature Asharran, noble and strong. However, he was also carrying something that looked like a sword and he was pointing it directly at Victor. A million confused and frightened thoughts entered the teen’s greater and lesser minds at that moment. “Oh this is just great.” Victor sighed to himself, sensing what clearly appeared to him to be a very disapproving father. “This will not take long.” Oppapalo said in a deep voice as he held the sword higher, as if ready to strike, “I will close my eyes.” Ionera replied, as she backed off from Victor. “Me too.” Victor thought to himself, afraid that his brief adventures on Asharra were about to come to an abrupt end. He closed his eyes and waited. The sound of his own heartbeat was deafening. He waited another second before finally opening his eyes. The sword, the doh-rah, was now glowing and vibrating. Looking closer at it, Victor determined that it was made of some kind of crystal, not metal. Just then, a flock of dreegins suddenly came by, a solid red flock. They circled overhead in a counter-clockwise fashion and then started diving up and down in time to the glowing of the sword. The dreegins made a forceful la for a few moments and suddenly landed on the ground, making a perfect circle around him. “Do not worry, Earth-Asharran.” they sang in low tones. 160

The Winds of Asharra “What was hurt is now mended” they sang in high tones. “We answer the call and protect our scaleless hatchlings”, they sang in middle tones. Victor listened to their la and was amazed. This time, when he listened, he could hear them speaking in words. This time, although the la was every bit as complex and wonderful as before, this time, he could understand them. “It is the doh-rah. “ Ionera explained. Victor attempted to stand up and immediately noticed that, except for the faintest of sensations, the terrible pain was gone. “Did the sword, the doh-rah heal me or was it the dreegins?” “Both perhaps,” Ionera giggled. “We are Meeru, “Oppapalo attempted to explain, “of the Osharra-frahlish, far from here. Our ways are the same but slightly different.” “The doh-rah is grown from crystals found only near our Osharra and takes a long time to grow before it can be shaped. Victor wasn’t certain if Ionera meant something in weeks or years but it did not matter. The sword like device or crystal or whatever it was, could heal and at least temporarily allowed one to understand the language of the dreegins. “Could I borrow this?” Victor asked, “I mean, could you come with me to a friend of mine. He’s a plant, a tree, a Iramu from Shellibak. The healers won’t let him in the Osharra because they say he still has a trace of illness, a little bit of warrior left in his roots.” Oppapalo waved Victor off, which the Earth dox, interpreted as a refusal. His dropped his eyes, disheartened at the situation. He had assumed that the more he could help 161

R. Leigh the Oon, the more the Oon could help him, not in any manipulative way. No, Victor just had concluded that if he was going to attempt to ask the Oon for advice and maybe try to get the plant creature to help him obtain more information about the mysteries of Asharra, then perhaps it made perfect sense if at least he could do something for the Oon in return. Since Victor wasn’t certain if the Asharran healers could offer assistance, this doh-rah seemed the perfect solution, a virtual barter of services between friends. “You do not understand, Iramu. “ Oppapalo began, “I do not need to know the details because this doh-rah now belongs to you.” “What?” Victor exclaimed, “I mean, thank you.” “It is not a sharing, a gift. The doh-rah belongs to you according to our tradition. Each possessor of a doh-rah may use it a limited number of times and then must give it up to the last person to whom it helped.” “And that’s me.” “That is true.” Ionera giggled, “Tell him the rest, Da” “Ionera must show you how to use the doh-rah. I can not.” “Because my Da is ya-sha and so are you.” Ionera explained, “I am yi-sha. My energy can show you and mine alone. I am already now becoming in tune with you.” “How am I going to explain this to Zoe?” he thought to himself. He looked at the naked Asharran, her copper colored skin contrasting with her short brown hair. Ionera had a hint of unpredictability that somehow Victor was able to recognize. She was the same as the other Asharrans but yet slightly different in a way he could not identify. She was odd and quirky and wild and made him feel uncomfortable in a weirdly pleasant sort of way. In short, he was rapidly falling in love with her, although only his subconscious realized it. 162

The Winds of Asharra “We are Meeru.” her Da had said. Victor asked Ionera how long it would take before he would learn how to operate the doh-rah by himself but all she did was giggle. He couldn’t tell if she was deliberately being evasive or teasing or what. It was clear that the direct approach wasn’t working too well. After a surprisingly brief conversation, Oppapalo and Ionera accompanied Victor as he walked, a bit more carefully this time, back toward the entrance to the Osharra, to the arch. There, as expected, he found the Oon, standing proudly where they had left them. Huff, the little purple dreegin was flying overhead, singing to the plant. Victor was glad to see the large tree and debated whether to speak at him or to attempt to just think happy thoughts, knowing that Oon would telepathically receive them. “You have returned.” Oon boomed into his head. “That makes me glad. Please Victor, think of all that you have seen and heard of Roqeetalu.” The earth dox happily complied, eager to share the news with the Oon. It was a silent conversation and one without any apparent movement from either party. A couple of steps back, the Meeru, Ionera and Oppapalo looked on. Victor assumed that as before, the Oon was broadcasting his side of the conversation into anyone’s nearby minds, an assumption that was totally true. However, in keeping with his previous promise, the Oon was not allowing others thoughts that he received to bounce from one to another so the Meeru were not receiving Victor’s thoughts and he was not privy to theirs. In this case, that was not totally acceptable to Victor as he found the father and daughter to be both enticing and strange at the same time. He laughed to himself at the concept of strange when he thought of his activities on Asharra so far. What was 163

R. Leigh strange anyway? Did the word have any meaning. Victor decided it was shallow at best and empty at worst, better to be avoided. “A very interesting tale, “the Oon roared into Victor’s dox-mind. “It supports the thoughts I have received from little Huff, here.” “You talked with Huff?,” Victor “you speak dreegin?” “I hear their la’s and understand them, just as you apparently just did, “Oon told him, reading his minds, “except that I can also hear their thoughts when they are not making their la’s. They have been telling me stories, incredible stories of long ago and wonderous things.” Huff flapped his wings overhead, a little purple blur, before ultimately deciding to land squarely on Oons leftmost upper limb. “What has he been telling you?” Victor accidentally said out loud, so that Ionera and Oppapalo could hear him, “What have the dreegins been telling you?” The ears on Oppapalo and Ionera’s heads, their feline ears, eagerly turned towards Victor to hear more. They had never heard more than a phrase or two from a dreegin thanks to the doh-rah. Victor was speaking to the Oon of even more powerful Doings than the Meeru. “It will take some time to translate it all from Huff’s perspective to my own and finally to yours.” the Oon apologized. Victor groaned. For the Oon to answer this way could be disastrous. Their concept of time was glacially slow. It might take hundreds of years before it could relate the stories to Victor. That would not be helpful in any way. The earth dox asked about the Asharran healers, inquiring to the Oon, if they had been successful. The tree laughed a solid deep laugh. 164

The Winds of Asharra “No, we were a complete failure to their efforts.” “Then why do you laugh?” Victor thought. Huff sang a dynamic la as he sat in the branch, even allowing a tiny bit of steam to escape from his mouth. “The Asharran healers detected the sickness I carry deep within, the history of violence of my fellow Oon, but I am not a warrior. Their science has limits and expectations of your kind, animal kind. What they had detected was more like noticing that one of you had hair or skin color from an ancestor. It was not your doing and not something you had any control over.” “But we can still pass that on... hair color for example,” Victor thought, “so they are still afraid that you will pass on violence when you....” “reproduce.” The Oon, added, helping Victor with the unusually uncomfortable concept. It amused the Oon that Victor could spill his seed anywhere yet feel uncomfortable sharing the same subject with a plant, with one such as They, the Oon. “It is true that deep within my roots are the dormant traits of warrior like all of the Oon, even though I am different than them.” “So you are still sick, technically, if you have adolescents.” Victor thought. “Yes, but thanks to Huff, here, that can be solved.” The dreegin was now lazily blowing oblong smoke rings as he sat upon the Oon. “The dreegin can help you? How?” “He says there is a plant that grows far from here, one which, when added to myself, will extinguish any last trace of warrior from any adolescents we will produce.” “A grafting of some sort.” Victor thought, “he was familiar how on Earth certain farmers would blend varieties of plants to get a specific shape apple or one of a different color.” 165

R. Leigh “A crude comparison, but accurate in its own way. “the Oon continued. “Huff has agreed to procure a shoot of the necessary plant, which when blended with us, will make us complete and guarantee our offspring will not have a trace of the warrior in them.” “That’s wonderful” remarked Victor. “Where is the plant? Can the dreegin find it easily?” “He isn’t sure but he knows what the plant looks like. In time, I am certain he or some of his kind, will come across it. I am patient” Oon said ,” although I would prefer this occur within the next few hundred years so I can return to Shellibak with additional shoots of the plant for my people.” “A few hundred years.. yes I hope so too.” Victor then thought about his own situation, his indecision about going back to Earth and his relationship with Zoe. He directed all of these thoughts at Oon, not in any coherent way, making any impassioned plea for help. No, Victor just let them spill out of his inner minds, including his greater mind, his dox-mind toward the intelligent tree. As he began thinking, he found it difficult to stop, since he had not yet become completely accustomed to the Asharran way of subjugating the head-mind to the dox-mind whenever possible. He thought at the Oon about what had just happened with Ionera and her father and speculated about what that might mean, both the doh-rah and the Meeru themselves. “Very interesting.” Oon answered in a loud thought inside Victor’s minds. “These thoughts would normally take much time to study. Since you do not live very long, I will try to hurry. I am sorry. I can understand how important these things are to you.” Victor nodded in obvious agreement at the Oons com166

The Winds of Asharra ment. From just a step or two further back, Oppapalo and Ionera looked on, attempting to glean some insight from the conversation between the Earth dox and the plant being. They watched the purple dreegin go about its business, being very dreegin-like, flitting about and alternating between a seated position and walking about the Oons three upper limbs. It never once attempted to bite or peck at any part of the Oon however. The dreegins long ago had been carnivorous and slightly less time ago, vegetarian. Now, here and there, dreegins were being born that possessed photosynthetic scales and absorbed energy directly from Yi and Ya, Sharron’s purple suns. These of course, where the purple dreegins, the odd ones. “It seems to me that even if you find your answers with this Asharran, this Yavaran, “the Oon attempted to help, “ you will still have decisions to make. For that, you must look deep within your trunk, into your very roots. You must think deeply on what you want and weigh your decision on many things.” “Yes but..” Victor interrupted in his head. “Think not like someone from Earth but as someone from Earth-Osharra, someday to be Earth-Asharra. Think as someone with passion. We are the Oon and although it might not be obvious to you, we are living passion, at a slow and delicious speed which you can not observe. We relish every second or year, every decade or century and learn and feel from it from our top limbs to our bottom ones. Our rings inside grow and expand from both knowledge and passion, slow passion.” Victor understood what the Oon was thinking at him. He must use his dox-mind, rather than just his head-mind. He must truly be Asharran if that is what he is, even if the aim is to decide to go or stay on Asharra. It was a paradox. 167

R. Leigh It was also ironic that a tree was telling Victor how to be more authentically human because only an authentically primal human, free from the tangles of rationalization and worship of practicality could hope to be true, to be authentically Asharran. “I still had to find Yavaran.” Victor said out loud to the Oon, “I know I’ll need to search my inner feelings but I need more information that I can base those feelings on.” “Yavaran?” Oppapalo shouted in a loud voice. “What do you know of Yavaran?” Ionera grabbed her Da’s arm as he was visibly becoming angry, something not common for Asharrans. The pretty Asharran nish was attempting to restrain her da, for it was clear that he wished to rush up to Victor, whirl him around and shake him into telling him what he knew of Yavaran. Even without doing so, the man’s loud and imposing voice was more than enough to get the 18 year old’s attention. He turned around, ceasing his telepathic conversation with the tree for a moment and looked at the Meeru. Ionera stood almost proudly there next to her da, expressing something which Victor could not exactly identify. Was it anger, sadness, pain? All of those emotions were things he had only rarely seen on the faces of the Asharrans so it was not familiar at all. “I’m trying to send a message to Yavaran to find out more about Asharra, the Asharra-dobar, everything...” Victor stammered. “It’s important to me... I need to know before I decide ....” His voice trailed off. Ionera’s eyes seemed to sparkle as she held her arm around her Da, gazing at Victor and equally mystified by his manner but held spellbound by it. “She will tell you nothing...” Oppapalo said sadly. “She will only leave.” 168

The Winds of Asharra He effortlessly broke free of Ionera’s grip and stepped to the side, walking several paces until he stood next to the multi-colored zim arch of Osharra-dobar. He leaned against it and rested his head upon his hand, saying nothing. Several seconds past. “Yavaran is Meeru. “Ionera explained to Victor with a deep and soulful look in her eyes, “Yavaran is my second mother. She is the mother of my da.” “Your grandmother...” Victor whispered to himself. “And I have never met her.” said Ionera in a very tiny voice. “I would very much like to meet her.” From the conversation that followed, Victor attempted to learn more about the Meeru in general and Yavaran in particular. The results were fascinating, infuriating and confusing at best. For example, the more that Victor attempted to classify the term, Meeru, the more it appeared to slip from his grasp. Was it a racial or ethnic group? No, even though there were a much smaller number of darker copper skinned Asharrans on the planet, they were not necessarily all Meeru and it was not necessary to have coppercolored skin to be Meeru. Was it an identity separate from being Asharran? Definitely not and maybe a little bit. This was confusing. Everyone on Asharra, in fact everything on Asharra considered themselves Asharran. No matter what differences, as there were no absolutes, they were all Asharran. They followed the Asharran ways, were carried along by the winds of Asharra, nourished their inner Asha together and shared a common culture, language and way of life. They were all the same. And there were also the Meeru. Were they any sort of political party? Nonsense. Not on Asharra. They weren’t any religious denomination either, although it did seem that the Meeru might be looking at precisely the same things as other Asharrans and per169

R. Leigh haps feeling a slightly different tone in addition to the norm. Did the Meeru consider themselves Asharrans first and Meeru second? Of course and it depends. Everything was Asharran and they all shared the same concepts of Uatu, the Guides, the Doings and visited each others Osharra’s. Then what exactly was different? It was frustrating for Victor that his conversations with Ionera and Oppapalo seemed contradictory yet enchanting at the same time. All Meeru were Asharrans and there were yet very few of them compared to the Asharrans who were not Meeru. Victor would have been shocked to learn that if he had asked most Asharrans what the difference was, they would not be able to answer. They simply did not know and it did not matter to them. They were in fact, all Asharran, the same in almost every way. There was something odd about this wonderful Ionera that captivated Victor. Her manner was natural yet strange, hauntingly attractive yet funny looking, innocent yet dangerous. By comparison, Theyna was an example of a sensuous and naturally alluring Asharran. She was warm and reassuring and sensual and happy. On the other hand, Zoe was always Zoe, full of joy and spunk and smartness. She was on the proverbial road to becoming a younger version of Theyna but with her own unique Earth sassiness and charm. Ionera was a different sort of Asharran, almost a different creature all together. She projected the same naturalness, warmth and plenty of sensuality and youthful sexuality. Yet, there was some unnamed ingredient added to the mix, making her just a little bit off, a little bit alluring and unpredictable in a way you could not put your finger on. It was just a feeling. She was Meeru... but what was that? She was Asharran through and through but Ionera and her father Oppapalo were a step to the left on the Asharran con170

The Winds of Asharra tinuum. Why were they different? The conversations proved wonderful and pointless at the same time. Victor was at least able to learn something about Yavaran, the mysterious Asharran hermit. It seemed to corroborate everything he had heard thus far and add a few new precious nuggets. Yavaran had chosen to live alone in her own private osharra, only occasionally visiting Osharrakibur or other Osharras for supplies or less obvious reasons at no particular interval. She was tall, slender and with long silver hair which reached past her shalas. She was eccentric, even by Asharran standards, supposedly even wearing clothes of a sort on occasion, at least from what Oppapalo could recollect from his childhood and early adulthood. He hadn’t seen Yavaran in many years but she had sent word to him via some process involving a dreegin, that she wanted to see Ionera as soon as possible. On Earth, it would have been regarded as an unlikely coincidence that Victor and Zoe would have their paths cross with Ionera and her Da. Yet, on Asharra, they were learning, there were no coincidences. Whatever happened was true. To Asharrans on the path, events that were serendipitous were accepted as natural and a source of great joy. No Asharran took them for granted, however. Nor did they rely on them as some important source of guaranteed inspiration or over reliance as some prophetic oracle. Just as the path of the Oon and even the dreegins seemed entertwined with his and Zoe’s, it was clear the Ionera and Oppapalo, the Meeru, were a part of the puzzle, and a happy intersection, not a coincidence, which would lead them to Yavaran. Hopefully, that would mean real answers. Sitting in a circle, in front of the Oon, the two Meeru and Victor decided to travel together. Oppapalo told Victor that they had been instructed in a short message, to come to 171

R. Leigh Osharra-kibur and wait for further instructions. Whether or not Yavaran would contact them directly or through some intermediary was not known. How long they should wait was unknown. Exactly where Yavaran was living was unknown. The only scrap of information that the father and his young daughter had was to come to Osharra-kibur because Yavaran wanted to see her granddaughter. Unable to contain his curiosity, Victor asked about Ionera’s mother and why she was not accompanying them. Ionera told him in flat tones that her mother had answered a similar call from Yavaran sometime after she was born, when she was still very little, and had not been seen since. Her mother had answered the message to see Yavaran and disappeared. Now, Yavaran was asking for Ionera. Her father was anxious and still, managed to filter out much more harmful or shallow or empty emotions. One could feel his passion on the subject of his missing mate and her disappearance but elements of frustration were only fleeting and almost ethereal. No matter what, Oppapalo was Asharran. He was natural but he was also true and they were almost never in conflict. The Oon declared that they too wished to come along if at all possible and meet this mysterious hermit. They had questions of their own and a different purpose and destinations on their path. The Meeru agreed and it was settled. They would all walk the path together for as long as their individual paths were aligned together. Much to Victor’s surprise, he heard a familiar voice behind him. “Kabwaalu!” It was little Roqueetalu and his mother, Weirrana. They had come to visit with the Oon. As promised, they had come to speak and think at him directly. 172

The Winds of Asharra The scene became festive as the little dox repeatedly circled the Oon, fascinated by the tree creature, touching all parts of his body to the tree in an attempt to experience what it was to be Oon. The Oon in turn sent out feelings of comfort and amusement to little Roqueetalu which thrilled the Asharran. It was an odd dance between the ancient tree and the young feline-like Asharran. It would have seemed one sided, contrasting the rapid movements of Roqueetalu with the glacially slow twitches from the limbs of the intelligent tree. “Warm and Deep!” Roqueetalu shouted to the tree at the top of his lungs. It was a greeting and a common phrase for all Asharrans but only the Oon truly sensed what the young Asharran was secretly saying. Although Victor could only hear Roqueetalu’s spoken words to the Oon, not being capable of telepathy, he wondered if the Oon was finding value in the little Asharran’s words. He knew that his own encounter with the little Asharran had forced him to further examine his own thoughts and feelings. It had pushed him along the path, perhaps without providing the answers he had expected but valuable nonetheless. Victor hoped but had no idea that the Oon would react in a similar fashion. Even though he heard none of Roqueetalu’s hidden silent thought messages for the Oon, Victor would have been surprised to learn that the three little words he did hear, “Warm and Deep” were, for the Oon, the most promising and the most profound. The Oon would keep the personal meaning and the special thoughts sent by the young Asharran dox private for now. It was something they had to think about and the Oon were experts at concentrated studied thought. As Roqueetalu and his mother left the group, the little one winked at Ionera who returned the gesture and added a 173

R. Leigh silly giggle. Victor was unaware of any special significance since he had never seen an Asharran bat their eyes at each other. Was it just harmless silliness or was it something more? Ionera caught Victor’s gaze and held it in her hand for a moment. Only the Oon felt the deepness of her thoughts and decided it was something worth considerable study. Elsewhere in Osharra-kibur, Theyna and Zoe were having their own impromptu adventure of sorts. The interplanetary birth-sisters had lazily traversed several winding paths, enjoying the sights and sounds and smells as they went. A flood of mental images and impressions from Theyna, acting as a kind of impromptu subtitles, ran through Zoe’s nish-mind thanks to the previous sisterly link. They served to heighten the experiences and occasionally punctuate particular smells or sights or sounds, recalling earlier similar ones. It was confusing for Zoe at first but something which the young Earth nish eventually began to enjoy as she gradually began to learn how to sharpen or lessen the focus, so as to enhance the current experience in front of her, rather than compete with it. They passed Asharran cooking or baking places and the complicated smells of warm things, filled with odd spices, filled Zoe’s nostrils, even to the point of making her mouth water. She swallowed hard as Theyna’s memories of small fruit-filled doughy globs made her eager to sample these favorite treats. “Looru’s “ Theyna hummed contently, “I’ll have to introduce you to them later.” It was clear to her that imagining tastes transmitted through the sisterly link was the most difficult, and sights, visual impressions were the easiest, although some of the time they were difficult to interpret. As they walked along, the two nishs regularly passed 174

The Winds of Asharra their attention from what was right of them, to left of them, to what was ahead of them on the path. Theyna frequently explained the specifics. For example, the long squat adobe like buildings could be anything from attached residences of individual families or extended generational families ,to commercial structures. To an Asharran that meant two distinct things. A commercial enterprise was either a full time shop run by an expert, a lu, of some area of specialization or a team of like-minded lu’s working together. These could be musicians, crystal growers, zim shapers, food preparers or a dozen other categories. In every instance, the experts were called artists as their creations, whether edible, wearable or practical were indeed created in passion and therefore definable as art by anyone on or off of Asharra. Their wares could be obtained by the traditional Asharran system of bartering, either of one’s goods or services for any combination of things. The rates were not set by anyone although sometimes, even on Asharra, an occasional fad or invention might make a new type of musical instrument or food more popular. In no case would this popularity diminish the worth of other items as everything was regarded as special. Since anything could be swapped for anything if the parties were willing, there were no competing products, since of course, there was no competition on Asharra. The various lu’s did not feel they were in competition with one another either and made no attempt to advertise their wares or promote the perceived advantages of their items over someone else’s. Apart from pure Asharran politeness, this was the case because Asharrans viewed that there were no coincidences. There was infinite free will, and accidents did occasionally happen but they were not important because they were only shallow, not empty. Yet, 175

R. Leigh even in this mecca of free will, it was thought that the proper items and the proper owners would eventually find each other in some delicious serendipitous synchronisity. True, sometimes an Asharran might be impatient in their search but that was not a subject for chastisement. It was simply because they were passionate about all things, and that was simply being Asharran. It was being true. The other category of commercial buildings built of the clay bricks were not housing the workshops and barter space for lu’s but rather the freely used spaces for non lu’s, everyday Asharrans, to display their goods and services for barter. In one sense, it was a never ending free yard sale by the people and for the people. In another sense, it was a necessary avenue for advice and assistance. If your roof needed mending and you lacked the skill or the inclination to do it yourself, you came to one of these buildings, the Wirambilu, to not only procure the necessary assistance but maybe to obtain advice. If the bartering price (not really an accurate term) was too high for you, in other words, the other party wished something you either did not have or could not obtain, in exchange for the services, he was always willing to either haggle the terms or at the very least, suggest other Asharrans who might have different needs and terms. They were not his competitors, they were his cooperators. They sent business each others’ way since it was not business. It was a way of helping the overall community, linking the needs with the solutions. Making that link benefited all and strengthened the entire Osharra. It made everyone happy and content and that was the ultimate aim, not some alien concept of profit or advertised desirability. Unlike Victor, Zoe was not a scientist at heart. She did not grow up admiring the Professor, Victor’s father, as her 176

The Winds of Asharra model and ideal. Even when she was frequently at the Durant household, either for a few hours or a week or two at a time, she politely appreciated the older man’s fascinating skills but not enough to share Victor’s enthusiasm. This was something different for Zoe, the flow of goods and services. She was good with figures and with her natural keen mind and empathic way toward others, she might have made a good advertising executive or corporate executive some day. She still might if she returned to Earth. For Zoe, stories of the Wirambilu were intoxicating and every bit as exciting as the sciences were to Victor. She loved the concept of artisans and craftsmanship on Asharra and the different kinds of bartering set up on the planet. For a 18 year old Earth female, accustomed to hours at the mall, this was even more amazing because of the sheer scope. Although Osharra-kibur held only a few thousand residents, the row upon row of adobe buildings composing the Wirambilu could easily have held three quarters of them on any given day. This wasn’t shopping. To Zoe, this was art, music, finance and mathematics all rolled up into one. It was a living breathing organism, every bit as much the pulse of Asharran society as their beliefs. Zoe and Theyna entered one of the long rows of clay building, weaving in and outside as they slowly made their way down the crowded permanent aisles and temporary pushcarts of Asharran goods. They passed row upon row of smaller hand carts, filled with goods by non expert Asharrans, or staffed by them without any goods at all, ready to offer their labor or experience. They explored several shops of the lu’s, the craftsman of this Osharra. There was no easily defined order that Zoe could discern at first either by function or size of shop. Yet, it seemed to make sense to the Asharrans present. No one seemed in a terrible rush, al177

R. Leigh though some were clearly expressing more immediate pleasure and passion than others at their search. Some of the Asharrans present carried small goods as they went, either the objects they wished to barter with or the results of a successful trade. Others searched empty handed, looking like naked sprites, dancing here and there from cart to cart, shop to shop. Theyna explained that Asharrans would conclude some trades after hours or through intermediaries if the item or items to be bartered were too large to bring into the Wirambilu. Finally, they entered a shop, actually a long compartment of an interconnected building which housed a tiira-lu, a crystal artist. There was plenty of space for eager Asharrans to stand and watch since the area served as both a showplace and a shop floor for the artisan. This particular shop was run by an expert lu and several apprentices in training. The two nishs slowly made their way to the back of the compartmentalized shop, passed the displays of raw crystals already grown and some finished goods for specific if not generic purposes. These were the ready made products of a sort. There in the back, hunched over a large round table was the tiira-lu. The sight of the being, a massive young dox in his mid twenties or so, was still a shock to both Zoe and Theyna. They watched in surprise as the tiira-lu shaped some crystals which were suspended in growing tanks, sitting in some glowing solution. He touched the crystals with some slender implement, made of a clear crystal itself and a humming sound could be heard throughout the shop. His steady concentration was evident as one of his apprentices looked on, while another was in the process of a pre-barter discussion with an older Asharran couple. It wasn’t the obvious skill and impressive physique of the tiira-lu that startled the Asharran nish and the 178

The Winds of Asharra younger Earth nish, it was his appearance. The tiira-lu was tall and had a broad chest, which in this case was covered with deep blue-black hair but the reminder of his tough hide was not, exposing his impressive muscles. Zoe attempted to peek further, standing on her toes to see behind and underneath the circular table where the tiira-lu sat and worked. He was naked of course but had hooves instead of feet. And not to leave out the most interesting point, the crystal master had two horns and a tail as well. “What is he?” Zoe gasped. “A Loak..” whispered Theyna, obviously equally surprised as she had never seen one up close although she was aware that three of them lived in the Osharra. “An Iramu like me, not from Asharra?” “No..” Theyna answered, “his parents are Iramu. They came from far away, just as you did. He was born on Asharra just as I was.” “But...he’s....” Zoe stammered. “He’s a Loak.” Theyna said in a faraway voice. Zoe attempted to focus her eyes and her mind, now a tiny bit more accustomed to the unusual sight, to take in the details. The Loak, whose name was Wole looked oddly out of place in the building. It took only a minute but suddenly the Earth nish was seized by an attack of the giggles. It was uncontrollable and unfortunately for Theyna, quite contagious. They laughed and laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks. Theyna had no idea what was even remotely humorous about the situation although she loved to laugh. Her Earth sibling wiped the tears from her cheeks and then from her sister’s. Zoe tried shaking her head and even pinching her own shalas in an effort to halt the involuntary spasm of laughter. It worked momentarily but then when she either looked at Theyna or the Loak, it began again. 179

R. Leigh It was rapidly becoming noticeable to the Asharrans in the shop. One by one, the customers and the apprentices stopped what they were doing and turned towards Zoe, who was still offering up occasional bursts of soft laughter. She had managed to reduce the volume but it was still difficult to control. It would be difficult to explain a giggle fit to Theyna, but somehow her older sister, although Asharran, seemed to instinctively understand. Finally, the Loak, the massive tiira-lu named Wole looked up from his work table, clearly annoyed at the voices in the rear. He did not want to spoil his work. One false move and he would have to begin again with another piece and each piece took time and care to grow. Zoe’s peals of laughter started up again and Theyna attempted to restrain the naked earth nish, by temporarily ushering her out of the place. They would come back later, when Zoe wasn’t acting in such a manner. Unfortunately, the swiftness of Theyna’s movements were not anticipated by Zoe and the 18 year old accidentally waved her right arm backwards quickly and sharply as she was being pulled away, connecting with a slender yellow-green crystal on a shelf and causing it to crash to the floor, breaking cleanly in three distinct pieces. “Oh Zim”, Zoe said to herself, making up an expression she was partially familiar with. It would have been cute except for the small matter of the raging bull. Smoke literally came out of the Loak’s nose holes as he snorted and rose from the work table, staring directly at the rear of the room. Several Asharran customers immediately parted along either side of the Loak as he lumbered past them. Zoe saw the approaching Loak and the natural fury in his primal face. It was frightening, and was even more so 180

The Winds of Asharra since he was several times the size and weight of the little nude Earth nish. Naturally, her giggle fit was finally halted at this point. It was unfortunate that Victor had not been here. At least that would have been some small consolation. She would still be in exactly the same predicament. The crystal would still be broken in three pieces. The angry Loak would still be approaching her, but at least she could explain the joke to Victor. He would understand. Zoe stared at the Loak as he stepped closer. Yes, there was no denying it. All of the elements were there. Just the color was off, the blue-black hide. Other than that, it all fit, including the environment -- that is, if you substituted crystal for fine china. The irony did not escape Zoe, The subject of her giggle fit had now become her instead of the Loak. Even though he exactly looked the part, now she was literally the bull in the china shop, not the Loak. That was the irony since the Loak, blue-black and standing on two legs capped with hooves, was a giant steer, an angry bull, complete with two horns on its head. The image did seem humorous to her at the time. “Really it did”, she thought to herself before the Loak stopped in front of her. His face looked more bull-like than human which was the reverse of the Asharrans, their feline characteristics only subtle suggestions of another creature, except for their ears and the two extra patches of fur on the bottoms of the shalas. The Loak were definitely more bull than man, a broad frame and a hide filled with muscle, with a mouth humanoid enough to speak with and eyes half-way between that of an Earth bull and a person. He stood on two feet...er...hooves, and had a tiny tail above his tezz cheeks, but the leg musculature looked a bit human allowing him to walk upright, except for the hoofs below. His face and 181

R. Leigh body appeared wild and fierce and true to his form. His parents were not born on Asharra and he did not resemble the orange skinned Asharrans in any way except for the fact that the Loak was naked, evident by the extremely large darana’s and dox between his legs. “What have you done?” the Loak roared.”Do you have any idea how long it will take to regrow that?” The giant blue-black bull creature pointed at the crystal. His hands had long fingers, slender fingers appropriate for fine work, even though his large body appeared more suited to tearing things apart at great speed. “It was an accident.” Zoe pleaded. “Of course it was an accident.” Wole bellowed angrily, “and I call that a barter by rule and ways.” “I owe you.” said Zoe in a small voice, “you break it, you buy it, yeah we have the same rule where I come from... just don’t kill me.” “Kill you?” said the Loak. “Or beat me or whatever you do to people who break your stuff.” the earth nish pleaded. The giant Loak twitched his head to one side in response to what she had said. He looked deeply into Zoe’s eyes and snorted steam from his nose. “I will only break your fingers as payment.” “What?” Zoe shrieked. “No. really, please no...” “Only one or two of them then.” Wole added in a deep baritone. Theyna placed her hand on Zoe’s shoulder. She had been silent up until now, standing like some orange nude statue, next to the Earth nish, frozen but not in fear. Finally, she looked the Loak in the eye and spoke to him. “You will do nothing.” she said flatly and without a trace of fear. 182

The Winds of Asharra The Loak scowled, and then looked at the Asharran from head to toe and cocked his massive head to one side, before resuming the conversation. “And they say I do not have a sense of humor.” he finally bellowed. “You mean you are not going to break my fingers?” Zoe said, feeling somewhat reassured but definitely preferring to obtain just a bit more. “Not this time. “the Loak said in a deep and low voice. Theyna wondered if she noticed a trace of a small crooked smile cross the face of the giant bull-like creature. “But you still owe me for the crystal.” “That’s sort of why we are here...” Zoe began. The sisters attempted to explain to the Loak their need for a message crystal and the specific details of Zoe and Victor’s arrival on Asharra. They told him of their hopes to meet with Yavaran and the underlying reasons -- the wish for answers about the Asharra-dobars and the questions about leaving or staying on Asharra. Wole’s attention seemed to drift from time to time. He scratched the hair on his large hairy blue tezz and even scratched his equally large darana’s a couple of times during the explanations. This surprised both Theyna and Zoe, annoying the Earth nish and causing Theyna to pause, forcing Zoe to continue the story. “Could you please pay attention? “she asked Wole, “This is important.” she said in a high pitched 18 year old defiant voice. “I am paying attention.” the Loak replied honestly, glancing at Theyna first and then back at Zoe “If you keep that tone with me, I will break your fingers.” “I would prefer that you did not.” Theyna said to the Loak, with an unusual firmness to her voice, a tone that 183

R. Leigh also seemed oddly relaxed. Wole waited for a beat before replying, puffing out his massive chest before he began. “Perhaps, I will decide on this later. For the time being, it appears you two nishs have a serious problem. You already owe me for breaking that crystal. That is clear.” “Yes I will take of that somehow.” Zoe said. “That is clear.” Wole repeated, dismissing her interruption. “But you have a larger problem. What do you have to offer in barter, both for what you broke and the message crystal?” Zoe opened her palm to reveal the sparkly blue-green ball of zim, her own zim. The Loak’s eyes widened and he snorted involuntarily, causing Zoe to startle. Theyna held her sister’s arm tightly, intent on preventing any more damage to the contents of the shop. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.” Wole snorted as he examined the zim. “I made it myself, it came out... “It came out of your tezz.” Wole said. Again, Theyna noticed the barest trace of a crooked smile on the bull creature’s face. This time, however, he was staring at her when he said it. “Right.” Zoe said, “out of my tezz.” she decided to be quiet for a moment or two. “I will have to have this analyzed, to see how it interacts with the crystals. Have you eaten yet?” “Not recently”, Zoe smiled, “ we were getting a little hungry, thanks.” “I meant I would need more zim for analysis, “the Loak clarified, “you need to eat so that you can produce more ... out of your tezz.” Zoe blushed bright red between her young shalas and it 184

The Winds of Asharra was Theyna’s turn to giggle with laughter “He does have a sense of humor, “ she thought privately to herself, “who told him he did not?” The Loak gestured to his apprentices to prepare something to eat and he escorted the two nishs to a small room behind the workshop area of his shop, obviously where he took his meals. Zoe wondered if he was still carnivorous, looking at his size and resemblance to a Bull from Earth. Realizing that he was second generation, born on Asharra by Iramu parents, she hoped he was vegetarian. “Yes, I eat as do the orange ones, “Wole whispered to her, or at least in a low husky raspy voice that was as close to a whisper that he could muster. The three of them enjoyed a small meal together which Theyna assumed had been the Loak’s own food, divided three ways. She noted this and said nothing. Zoe enjoyed the food, including something noodle like which had a salty nutty flavor. She was beginning to relax around the gruff creature, until she remembered that presumably the only reason he was feeding her was so that she could produce more zim, produce it from her tezz. “Do you accept responsibility for her actions?” Wole asked Theyna unexpectedly. He had noticed the matching zim jewelry they wore and obviously deduced that they were surrogate sisters despite their different planet of origin. He was addressing Theyna as the older sister. Zoe quickly prepared a little speech in her head, waiting for Theyna’s obvious reply which she clearly expected. However, the actual reply was not what she expected at all. “I accept no responsibility for her actions.” Theyna announced. “She is your sister, your younger sister?” Wole countered. 185

R. Leigh “She is younger but still of age,” said Theyna. “But she does not know of Asharran ways..” the Loak hoarsely replied. “She learns quickly.” Theyna answered, matching his argument. “She has nothing to barter and you can assist.” he pressed. “I choose not to” she replied. Zoe pulled on Theyna’s elbow and would have pinched her bare leg to get her attention if that hadn’t worked. She did not know what was going on but she didn’t like the sound of it and she didn’t like being talked about as though she wasn’t there. “Shhh...” Theyna said, ignoring her and continuing the verbal joust with the Loak. “And if I choose services as payment instead of goods...” “That is your right.” Theyna smiled a coy smile. Zoe was getting a bit nervous now. She didn’t know what exactly services meant in this context, but knowing the Asharrans natural inclination toward things sexual, she was terrified that she was going to be expected to spread her legs and be fremmed silly by the giant bull. “You are sure?” the Loak said. “If I was going to change my mind, would I tell you now?” Theyna answered. The answer confused Wole and he snorted again. It was Theyna’s turn to smile a tiny grin at the bull. She was definitely enjoying this. “Fine. We will first determine the worth of her zim.” Wole then abruptly turned toward Zoe and bellowed at her. “Can’t you produce more yet?” 186

The Winds of Asharra She tightened her tezz cheeks without results. The situation was surreal. She was being ordered by a bull to shit on command. “In that case, I exercise my barter rights for what was broken, Your message crystal can be paid for with your zim if possible but I will take the broken item’s value in services.” “Services?” Zoe gulped. “You will apprentice with me since Theyna here has refused to take your place. You will help work the shop with my other apprentices until the debt is repaid.” “Alright, that sounds fair, if there is no other way. How long will that be?” Zoe asked. “How hard do you work?” laughed Wole in an enormous laugh which seemed to shake the building, Two apprentices in the background nervously spoke quietly to themselves. This was definitely not just another day at the Wirambilu. Zoe wondered if they should shake hands to signal agreement but was not at all surprised when Theyna automatically decided that the Friendship doing was more appropriate. Slightly nervous, the 18 year old joined Theyna performing the brief ritual with the large Loak. Touching his forehead was easy enough for her, but she found it more than a little strange to cup her fingers around his shaggy darana’s and “honor his outside”. Theyna had no such problem, seeming to relish the intimate touch with the two legged bull creature. She not only enjoyed literally “having him by the darana’s”, she clearly wanted even closer contact with him. With only a smile as a clue to her deeper intentions, she began to orally pleasure his dox for several long minutes, until it was clear she no longer had to proceed. Zoe’s jaw dropped at the sight of this impromptu 187

R. Leigh event, a clear variation to the standard friendship Doing, which ended with Wole letting out a hearty laugh and Theyna licking her lips. As expected, when it was time to switch places, and have Wole pledge his friendship to both of them, Theyna also received similar extra personal treatment. At first, Zoe was completely in shock, attempting to determine if Theyna had somehow left out this very personal variation on the Friendship Doing or if something else was in fact, going on. Since it seemed hardly the time to inquire, she correctly concluded that it must be the latter. This was confirmed a few moments later, when in true Asharran style, Wole “marked his territory” upon Theyna, abruptly zeeing on her body like a primal animal. For her part, she smiled politely and returned the action, apparently accepting his engagement. It took Zoe a few seconds to realize what she had just witnessed, not the physical acts, but the cultural significance. In essence, Theyna had just fallen head over heels for the Loak, he had proposed marriage and she had accepted, all in the course of a couple of minutes. Zoe did not know at first whether to congratulate her on the example of weird love at first sight or politely smile and say nothing. Finally, she made up her mind to disregard the shocking strangeness of the culture and do the obvious. “Congratulations!” Zoe replied, using the only appropriate Earth expression she knew. She felt happy for them and she thought they made a cute couple, even though he was huge and well, a two legged bull, and she was orange and slightly catlike. She wondered how that would all work out between them since they were so different. Yet, they were both Asharran so really, they had nothing to worry about at all. Zoe was slightly dazed but time did progress so that she had finally produced enough of her zim to have it analyzed 188

The Winds of Asharra by whoever did that sort of thing. Luckily it was still blue and green and sparkly and smelled sweetly. She wondered how long it would be before she might need a booster dose of the Zimma berries. The thought disturbed her and she attempted to file it away, far away in her nish-mind. Wole returned from the front of the shop and passionately kissed Theyna on the mouth. She had already showed him this Earth custom and credited Zoe as the source of information. The little Earth nish’s fame was spreading. The Loak still appeared somewhat gruff and grumpy toward Zoe since after all, she had broken his crystal and stood firm on the idea that Zoe would have to be one of his apprentices for a time, to repay her debt. At least the earth nish was reassured that any fremming the huge Loak would do would be with her Asharran sister and not her. They were now a pre-bonded engaged couple according to Asharran ways. “Will this be ok with your parents?” Zoe asked Wole, “I mean are they in favor of mixed marriage... bonding?” “Silly nish.” Theyna answered for the bull, “He does not have an alternative here on Asharra.” The obvious thought did not occur to Zoe. If she and Victor mated and had adolescents, eventually those adolescents would most likely bond with native born Asharrans, unless there was a sudden flood of human immigration from Earth. The thoughts were of course silly and shallow and perfectly normal for a 18 year old to dabble with, regardless whether or not they walked the path of Asharra. It really didn’t matter to Zoe if she ever became the grandmother of kids who were half orange, half Asharran. It wasn’t important at all. Actually, she had never even thought about having a family of her own. She was only 18 after all, and more importantly, she was accustomed to liv189

R. Leigh ing in the present and concentrating on the here and now. Kids, even possible kids seemed years away. One of the gruff Loak’s apprentices returned from somewhere with a sample of her zim. He stepped up to Wole in a respectful manner and whispered something in his ear. The eyes of the bull widened and he took the sample from the Asharran’s hand, holding it up to the natural light from the perpetually open window and rolled it in his fingers. “This has potential.” he told Zoe and Theyna. “It will be a long time before we know how it will interact with all of the substances on Asharra but it is definitely organic and unique.” In effect, every time an Iramu, one born outside of Asharra arrived, it was like the discovery of another element on the periodic table when the being produced zim, assuming of course that it had first eaten the all important Zimma berries. Otherwise, it was just shit, just like on earth. The berries acted as a sort of catalyst, transforming both the zim and of course, the zimmer. “Will that be enough for a message crystal?” asked Zoe, attempting to return the focus to their original purpose. “No, I mean, I am not sure, but I do know where to get more.” Wole laughed in a craggy low laugh. “Out of my tezz.” Zoe groaned as the joke was wearing thin. “Then we should go to the Osharra Circle, and wait for Victor, “said Theyna. “by now he should have spoken to the Oon.” “Do you know what you wish to say in the message?” Wole inquired, attempting to be helpful. “Not exactly, something that indicates that we want to 190

The Winds of Asharra contact Yavaran, who we are, how important it is and how to reach us.” “That will take much zim.” the Loak chuckled in a semi-serious tone. “Remember though, no matter what you learn from this Yavaran, you have promised to stay as my apprentice.” “But if we discover that my zim is really something special,” Zoe nervously squealed, “that it makes a fair trade many times over, then can we use that as repayment instead of the apprentice part?” “You have already agreed to that and so have I” said Theyna. “Yeah, what was all that about before?” “I offered her the opportunity to do so in your place.” said the Loak. “I refused, “ smiled Theyna. “If I stay with Wole it won’t be out of some obligation. He makes me laugh. There’s something unique about his ya-sha.” “No kidding.” said Zoe, glancing at the enormous steer sitting in front of her. Zoe wondered about the whirlwind courtship between Wole and Theyna, about whether or not it was considered typical on Asharra. True, she had been told by her older sister that Wole was certainly not her first, that she had been searching for a mate for some time. Perhaps those other relationships had been at a slower more deliberate pace compared to her almost immediate attraction to Wole. Was it just attraction? Finally, she managed to pull Theyna aside and ask a few of these vital questions. Her older sister spoke clearly and with passion about all aspects of her life to Zoe, with no hesitation or trace of embarrassment or hint of regrets. It was not the Asharran way. Life was true and powerful and something to be marveled at and appreciated. 191

R. Leigh The very concept Kokayniah, the intertwining of mystery and diversity spoke to the Asharrans of this. In a way, it was a little bit like fate or destiny as someone from Earth would imagine it, but yet Kokayniah was something more, it was what happened when you were on the path, being carried along by the winds of Asharra. It was being in the groove, going with the flow and having happy coincidences and serendipitous events occur, although there were not coincidences on Asharra. The term took the Earth concept of destiny and blended it with the joy of different results and different ways of achieving results. It was really more than a comparison of an easy path and a more difficult one. Kokayniah would speak of the wonderful mystical results one would achieve on the path, and the path itself and the totally unknown and unexpected twists and turns the path would take. It was not judged bad if the path was a long one or if it took numerous detours, or what might appear to be detours to one not being true, along the way. Asharrans took what life gave them, but unlike a Stoic or perhaps a Buddhist or Zen master, they did wish for the best possible outcome. Yet, unlike those folks, the trusted in the idea of Kokayniah that whatever the path, the journey would be meaningful to them. It was not the Christian concept of reward and salvation after proper belief or even rewards according to proper behavior or letter of the law. No, Kokayniah was more of a Taoist belief of going with the flow, coupled with a Zen acceptance of what is, coupled with some uniquely Asharran elements. These extra ingredients told you that while you had no immortal soul that you had to scrupulously keep clean and pure and that you were not the center of the universe by any means, that the Asha, the primal energy of the universe would in an impersonal yet very compassionate way, attempt to better the 192

The Winds of Asharra universe and that included you. The Asha saw no difference in importance between a two legged creature and a four legged one or even a mineral, plant, or animal. In Asharran terms, all were equally alive, a mixture of energy and particles, expressions of the cosmos. They all had some equal right to exist and to enjoy whatever they could enjoy along their path. The Asha played no favorites but clearly, life on Asharra was following a particularly peculiar path since everything around the Asharrans appeared to very slowly become more friendly not only to them but to all existing life as well. It was as if something in addition to Kokayniah was going on here. Zoe was not aware of any of this but Victor was beginning to have a few subconscious scientific tugs that something was indeed happening. More to her immediate priorities, Zoe was pleased to learn about Theyna’s reactions regarding her relationship with the giant bull-like creature. In short, she regarded it as simply wonderful and natural, as though it was like meeting someone on a bus or across the proverbial crowded room. In her case, the someone just happened to have hooves, a tale, was almost eight feet tall and was, well, a giant two legged blue bull. Other than that, it was the classic boy meets girl story. Zoe played with the details in her mind and attempted to compare it with her situation with Victor. The two of them had grown up together. They were both highly verbal and considered odd by the neighborhood kids and the ones at school. It was natural that they should gravitate toward each other. (The fact that she always found Victor to be attractive did not hurt as well). In fact, there was even the rare occasional comment from her mother, before she would return to her world of corporate finance with her fa193

R. Leigh ther and disappear altogether, that perhaps it was natural for her to be with Victor. They seemed so similar. She even once hinted to Zoe that she would expect that someday, her daughter would never return, that she would simply marry Victor since they were obviously spending so much time together. Eventually, even some of the more intelligent kids at school, although not entirely friendly to either Victor or Zoe, appeared to see them as some sort of strange couple. They weren’t accepted by any particular clique but increasingly people just assumed they would wind up together. After all, they were so much the same. Yet, there was the matter of Victor’s preoccupation with his father’s world of science and the mundane. She wondered if he had a romantic side in there somewhere. He certainly had a sexual side like any 18 year old and his body’s reaction to her showed that he appreciated her physical attributes. With everyone nude on Asharra, she was rapidly becoming much more comfortable being exposed, not just for Victor, but for the world at large. Zoe proudly decided that she would act natural among all Asharrans especially when she would supposedly be working out her apprenticeship in Wole’s shop. If Wole’s apprentices, Ripa and Lahsh, enjoyed the sight of her body even slightly, she was not going to deny that to them. Rather than make her feel uncomfortable, the simple thought that any Asharran might take pleasure at the sight of her and vice versa was becoming natural to her. It was as natural a concept as living in a world of living nude Greek and Roman statuary. It was even better since there was more variety of chests and shalas and tezz’s and doxs. “It was even better.” thought Zoe, “because you got to be one of the living statues.” Truly, she was thinking as an Asharran, aware of the specifics of her own body, perhaps still clinging to a few 194

The Winds of Asharra fleeting preferences (in her case that her shalas were too small) but happy to know that all types were accepted on Asharra. Here variety and diversity was natural and welcomed. Here complete nudity for all was a liberating declaration of mutual acceptance and lack of deception. She enjoyed the new freedom from worrying about current fashions. “It would be terrible to be forced to revert to Earth customs”, she thought. “Oh why, is Victor making such a fuss about returning to Earth?” She would never want to go back. Never. If she and Victor were so much alike, how could they be so different? Still, bridging differences seemed effortless for Theyna and Wole. Zoe was relieved that at least in their case, it seemed something which the new couple did not dwell on or worry about. Theyna told her that she and Wole planned on publicly announcing not only their engagement (which they technically had already done) but also their bonding. They would publicly fremm at the Osharra circle, at the Bonding ceremony, for all the community to see. All that was missing, was an attempt to send word to their immediate relatives. Theyna had a brother (since native born Asharrans were never only adolescents) and Wole’s parents were still alive, although rather elderly. Both would be notified, through various means since neither was in Osharra-kibur at the moment. After that customary attempt, Theyna and Wole would formally become bonded, mated. That was tremendously important in Asharran culture. They were in fact serially monogamous. The vast majority of Asharrans mated for life, not because of any obligations or fear of retribution if they changed their mind or grew apart. It was more a case of shopping for shoes. In a magical and seemingly casual way, the Asharrans would from 195

R. Leigh birth, begin to subconsciously measure each other as prospective mates. There did not exist the endless games of status and superiority that were on Earth. No Asharran carved proverbial notches on anything to indicate sexual conquest. Fremming was after all, free and open to all, at any age. adolescents observed touching and even fremming of all kinds not only in the streets but in their own homes, with their parents being the first and best example. To fremm was to express mutual joy. To have found a mate and to fremm them was to carry that joy to new and deeper depths, adding a mystical element that enterwined individual asha’s, energy patterns until there was a perfect if momentary blending. fremming was joy. The animals fremmed and the Asharrans were a type of animal life. It was natural and true. Still feeling all aglow over her pre-bonding to Wole, Theyna glanced outside at the sky. It would still be a considerable amount of time before it changed from Ya-time to Yi-time. That was to be the designated time when she and Zoe were to attempt to meet with Victor near the Osharra circle. Across the Osharra, next to the triangular zim arch, a very different series of events was unfolding with the Oon, Oppapalo, Victor and Ionera. The immediate subject was the doh-rah, the sword-like item which had now apparently passed from Oppapalo to the young Earth dox. Victor struggled to understand both the exact usage of the item and the relative importance to the Asharrans in general and the Meeru in particular. He studied the long blade as he held it in his hand. It resembled a classic medieval sword, not as heavy as a giant broadsword and certainly more hefty and dramatic than a simple fencing saber. This doh-rah was formidable without looking clumsy or clunky. The doh-rah was long and 196

The Winds of Asharra impressive. The blade was almost three feet in length and apparently grown from a crystal, according to Oppapalo. Unlike a conventional sword, the blade was not shiny silver. It was red. The guard, the area immediately in front of the blade, which separated the red blade from the hilt, the area where you actually held the doh-rah, was of a golden color and shaped in the form of two dragons heads facing opposite directions. The shaped dragons looked like elaborate carvings to Victor and he admired the workmanship greatly. The hilt, the part of the doh-rah where it met your palm and you wrapped your fingers around it, was also of the same golden material. In addition, it was wrapped in some heavy dark black material, obscuring most of the gold. At the very end of the hilt, and only apparent if you looked at the doh-rah from the end, Victor could see a large red shiny stone or jewel set into the doh-rah. The effect was stunning and mesmerizing at the same time. “It’s a beautiful style and something to be appreciated.” Oppapalo said to Victor as he twirled the doh-rah in one of his hands, almost effortlessly. The older Asharran held it as though he knew it intimately, familiar with how it balanced, precisely how much it weighed and the feeling it gave one when it was held, as if it became an extension to a human hand. Yet, as beautiful as the doh-rah was, it was not just a strikingly handsome sword since it was not a sword at all. This particular style doh-rah might resemble an elaborately carved Earth sword, especially with the dragons forming the guard, jutting out at opposite angles from each other as if to fly away, east and west, to attack or protect. No, it would be a major mistake to think of a doh-rah as a sword, even if this particular one resembled one, a sword with a bright red crystal blade. 197

R. Leigh Normally, this doh-rah was kept in a long black sheath with decorated golden colored zim trim at both ends. Oppapalo had normally worn the sheathed doh-rah around his waist as the sheath was attached to a belt-like contraption made of some sort of natural corded material. It was not leather and appeared to Victor to be made more likely of some plant based material that was tough and strong. The sheath protected the doh-rah not because it was sharp as any sword but because it was powerful and delicate, especially in this form. Victor attempted to hold the doh-rah and found that it was heavier than he thought, especially in the smaller hands of a 18 year old but still had a special internal graceful balance to it. That balance and wonder was unfortunately much less evident in Victor’s hand because of the doh-rah’s size and weight relative to his own. He attempted to hold it two handed like a great broadsword but it was not intended as such. The doh-rah was not a hack and slash weapon. It was really not even a weapon at all. The doh-rah was something much more special and much more powerful. Somehow it had cured his leg and allowed him to temporarily understand the language of the dreegins. What else could it do? In the proper hands, what were its limits? What was the range of its purpose? “It’s too heavy for me.” Victor frowned, handing the doh-rah back to Oppapalo for a moment. He looked down at his own naked body. There was nothing wrong with it. Victor was a perfectly normal 18 year boy by Earth standards. He wasn’t a jock or someone possessing the football player physique. He was just thin and not very terribly muscular. However, in both his dox mind and his head mind, Victor was painfully aware that there was more to this observation. His father, the Profes198

The Winds of Asharra sor, was an adult and he could hardly be called muscular, certainly not anything to compare with Oppapalo, who appeared with his chiseled pectoral muscles, to have stepped from a body building contest. Victor’s father was on the slender side, even as an adult. Sure, he had a broader chest and shoulders than Victor and even some nice muscles in his legs and his shoulders but he would have looked very different if somehow standing next to Oppapalo. Genes didn’t lie and Victor was certain that when he would eventually be fully grown, that he would resemble the physique of his father rather than that of the copper skinned Asharran. His father was fine, even attractive in a male way. His father had some muscles and even being a bit thin, could have held the sword in his hands. Victor was sure as an adult he would be able to do so as well but that would be years away. The doh-rah, even if it turned out to be the most important thing in the world, was like a large two ton sculpture for Victor. It was nice to look at and admire but that was that. The blade was too long for him. The balance was all wrong. The weight was too much. Adding the added weight of the scabbard, it would be extremely difficult to carry the thing, even hanging down from his waist. That is, if it were even possible to tie the belt small enough to fit his waist. Victor was crushed and he wasn’t exactly sure why. It was obvious but it also wasn’t. He considered himself his father’s son on Earth in every way. He was studious, a lover of books and knowledge. He read and listened to his father’s impromptu lectures around the dinner table. He even would secretly read some of the Professor’s predatory class lecture notes, or the research papers, he would be writing, as both would often be strewn around the cluttered office that the Professor kept at home. Yes, Victor admired his father more than anyone 199

R. Leigh else in the world. The famed Evan Durant, had degrees in a variety of disciplines from physics to anthropology. Victor was never although certain what his father thought of himself as. He once asked him what he was, after becoming an expert in so many fields and was amused when his father had simply replied , “less ignorant than most.” This was not false modesty. Evan Durant worshiped at the temple of pure knowledge and encouraged his son, Victor to do the same. It never mattered to the elder Durant, which exact discipline or disciplines the boy would ultimately pursue as his vocation. It did not matter as long as he was true to himself and his subject matter. Victor had been encouraged to study anything and everything and change his mind more often than he changed his underwear. Knowledge was a subject of delight for the Professor and he instilled in it his son from the earliest years. Victor grew up with a love of learning and as liberal and balanced a worldview that the Professor could muster. This was much easier when he mother was still here. Francesca had been everything to Evan Durant. Her warm Mediterranean personality naturally counterbalanced the scholarly Professor and also effortlessly brought out the other sides, more hidden sides to his personality. When his family abruptly was shattered and Evan Durant found himself a single parent, that balance was forever destroyed. He could no longer maintain a natural male harmony and nourish all sides of his personality. Naturally, since he could no longer do that for himself, he certainly could not set any sort of proper balanced example for his son. As time passed, the problem became worse. Victor developed a love of books and learning and admired his father’s wisdom but he could not see Evan Durant’s inner passion and heroic side. There was no one there any longer to be a hero 200

The Winds of Asharra for, no one for which to even feel the twinge of the hero. The Professor walled up a side of his personality, a vital and necessary side, as clearly and concretely as if he had sealed himself into his study, shutting out a very large part of who he was, of what made him male. Those hidden male parts were still in his son, Victor but not given a long enough living example of proper growth and expression, they went semi-dormant in the boy, looking for an outlet but finding none other than his imagination. With a lack of balance and clear direction, it was an opportunity to misjudge and view his hidden feelings without any sense as to how important they were and how they fit into his personality, his maleness. Victor developed in a healthy and positive way, thanks to his father, but still developed in a lopsided way, a hidden lopsided way so common to males on Earth. There was a clear disconnect between Victor’s head mind and his dox-mind, before he came to Asharra and before he even knew he had a doxmind. This disconnect resulted in many tragically interesting results for Victor. He alternated between self identification with great scientists and secret identifications with shadowy heroic figures who did mighty deeds both for and with the special female by his side. He valued the obvious role of the scholar because he truly identified with it but less obvious was his covert wish to identify with the hero. Victor believed he could express this wish as he grew and would become an adult through some career. Instead of battling evil in some myth, he would be fighting the good fight in the halls of academia or in the boardroom. He could access his secret inner hero that way and that would be enough. It was a logical and fervent thought. Victor believed it deep within his head-mind. Unfortunately, it was not true. Before arriving on Asharra, 201

R. Leigh during the darkest moments of the night, Victor would roll over in his sleep and sense the truth. He was out of balance and not being true to himself. His heroic side, his true maleness could not and should not be relegated to second class status. Victor felt that something was wrong and at least on that level, he was being true to himself. Yet, before arriving on Asharra, that was as far as he could go. All of his studies and his books could not provide enough logic or wisdom or even raw data to interpret and deliver any results. There was wisdom but no magic there. The same had been true for his father. Without Francesca, the magic disappeared from Evan Durant’s life and while finding comfort and purpose in pure knowledge, that was not enough. It did not nourish the hero inside him and was devoid of the magic which only the female can ignite in the male. His inner fire would sputter and go out because it was dry and brittle. It needed the primal female moisture to nourish it and make it balanced so that pure primal male fire could burn brightly. The water did not extinguish the fire as all logic and wisdom would teach and prove. The female water allows the male fire to never dry out so much so that it eventually sputters and ultimately goes out. While Evan Durant would never give up, his destiny appeared to be a more difficult one since he was unbalanced without Francesca. He already had been accustomed to the mystical feeling of union and struggled to regain the internal primal heroic maleness without the inspiration. The professor found some comfort in his books as he firmly placed his emphasis on the joys of raw neutral knowledge exclusively. On some subconscious level, young Victor knew this and also knew he was not going to make the same mistake. This internal decision, buried so deep was wise and true to himself. Yet, it created an unscratchable itch for the boy. 202

The Winds of Asharra He was a scholar king without a kingdom. He was a wise hero without any incentive to be heroic. He was unbalanced even as he vowed never to become that way. Victor did not channel such thoughts into sports or other elements of competition. That was a seemingly natural and healthy release for most males his age on Earth. It allowed them to measure themselves against others, experience great victories, learn from stinging defeats and forge themselves into stronger males. Not being terribly athletic and more importantly, not having a father who was a great athlete, Victor wasn’t exactly at the head of the line in gym class. He certainly did not try out for the obvious sports teams at school. There was no point since it did not take a genius to determine what the results would have been, and it would not have been pleasant. The problem was precisely that Victor was closer to being a genius than an all around normal kid. He was more likely to be labeled a geek or a nerd, and that applied by a factor of ten to this father. He was a geek raised to the power of two. Victor never had the cliche dreams of changing all of that and becoming the captain of the football team, winning the head cheerleader and making the final touchdown in the last critical game of the season. If you swapped sports in the metaphor it made no difference. Scoring a home run was only mildly more enticing than the touchdown because baseball was less physical and requiring more mental skill, at least as far as Victor was concerned. No, the boy did not want to somehow overcompensate and become a super jock overnight, even though some of the cheerleaders were cute and caused his dox to stir. No, his goal was loftier than that. He wanted an outlet for his heroic side, the part he always kept hidden, even from himself sometimes. He wanted to name it, label it, compare it and endless analyze 203

R. Leigh this side of his personality. More accurately, he wanted to simply express it and live it. There was an entire part of Victor Durant that was never allowed to come out and play. There was a tiny voice within that wanted to roar in its loudest voice to remind the larger Victor that it was there. “Don’t forget me!” it would shout and beg, in his subconscious. “I am you and maybe even the best of you.” Victor yearned for that part of himself. Down deep, he knew he felt an important piece of who he was would be forever missing if he did not consciously acknowledge this. However, that was the difficult part of the equation. This was because the theory could not be tested or proven by any scientific method. It had to burst forth from within him, amid a roaring rush of trumpets and unfurled banners. It had to swiftly propel him over the rocky terrain and boost his body and his spirits high over the walls he had built around himself for protection. For those walls were slowly killing him. A year or two before arriving at Asharra, Victor knew that those self created defense walls inside him were not those of a protective castle. They were the walls of an inner dungeon that was blocking out light. He was the warrior now feeble and impotent, waiting for a drop of magical elixir from the beautiful nymph which would renew his strength and enable him to shatter any bond that had been placed upon him. Inside Victor was a tiger roaring and raging and feeling. Outside he was a very very smart mouse which squeaked practicality and equations. Occasionally the mouse would even strut about a little as it dreamed of the tiger but for all to see, it was still a mouse. It was difficult for Victor to imagine a tiger inside of the brilliant mouse but he knew the mouse would die without the tiger because they were twin brothers, and part of each other. Whether a mouse like tiger or a tiger like mouse, they had 204

The Winds of Asharra to be integrated into, well something or they would go insane and extinct. Victor had attempted subconsciously to offer some meager nourishment to his inner heroic side through the only medium his inner mouse would allow, the printed word. His tiger lived on fantasy and science fiction and was fed just enough scraps as to be kept alive in its cage, enough for the beast to dream of real freedom. The mouse held all of the keys and kept the tiger tightly shackled, grudgingly giving a morsel of Tarzan or a bit of Conan or if he were especially obedient, a tasty desert of John Carter of Mars. Such stories gave the tiger strength even as they tore away at his insides. Victor dreamed of himself as the philosopher king and the future noble father, the adventurer with a brain. Still, the tiger was nourished by Tarzan and Conan whenever that was basic sustenance. The sweet temptation was Edgar Rice Burroughs’s man of Mars, John Carter. Victor allowed himself to laugh silently for a moment as he clumsily held the doh-rah, which was obviously too heavy and inappropriate for him. It was a humorous observation, about the tiger since, after all, the Asharrans were descended from something feline . If he wanted any evidence of the tiger, he only had to glance around him. Still, holding the doh-rah, he felt sad, more like the dungeon keeper, the mouse. Where was his opportunity to balance both halves of himself? He had to know what made Asharra tick. It was vital that he determine just how and why both he and Zoe were brought here. It was crucial that he learn if he could return to Earth and at what price, if any. Victor concluded that it would only balance the mouse and the tiger within him, and settle in his mind, who or what he was or could be, if he could solve these riddles. Why couldn’t Zoe see this? Surely, it was clear to her 205

R. Leigh that he would love to stay on Asharra but there were so many more questions at stake? What about his father? What would he want or expect from him? What would be the logical thing to do? If other earth beings, Iramu had come to Asharra and returned to Earth, could he succeed where they failed and bring more of Asharran truth and culture back to Earth? Could he cure more of the infecting toxic Dog culture that seemed to be spreading on Earth like some unstoppable virus? Didn’t he have an obligation to try? Isn’t that what heroes did? Would that free his tiger and blend it with his mouse, making them both wiser and satisfied with themselves? Victor attempted to wield the doh-rah, clearly uncomfortable and feeling not heroic at all. “It’s not the proper size, of course.” Ionera said in a flat tone, breaking Victor from his daydream, but beckoning him into hers. “The doh-rah. It’s too big. Too clumsy for you, for us.” she added. “What are you talking about?” he asked, silently agreeing with the odd Asharran nish. Victor looked at himself, holding the doh-rah. His naked body, not unattractive but not massive enough to be at home with the sword-like thing made him sigh quietly. His ya-sha never felt so depleted. “I’ve been dreaming about the form it will take,” Ionera said, with only the barest glimmer of raw excitement in her voice. She spoke in an odd way, sometimes sounding off key, sexy in a weird sort of way like the little girl on the Addams Family on the old television programs. What was her name again? Tuesday? Wednesday? It did not matter. Whether Ionera appeared like some naked gothic princess, 206

The Winds of Asharra hauntingly beautiful yet completely inscrutable was not the point. What was she talking about? She caused both of Victor’s minds to take notice. She razed the innate curiosity of his head-mind and tantalized his dox-mind in a hypnotic way. Yes, both his inner mouse and his inner tiger were awake and both seemed captive to the naked Asharran nish. Ionera seemed similar to Zoe and Theyna in many ways. After all, she was naked and attractive and close to his age. If you ignored the copper colored skin and the two small patches of hair on the bottoms of her shalas and the feline ears, the long legged Asharran nish was alluring in her own way and very natural. She projected the same confidence as Theyna and ease with Asharran ways but yet seemed unpredictable at the same time. She had the same sassiness that Zoe was famous for but she had an earthiness and naturalness that was sexy in a way all its own. She did not have a scent. She had a smell. The two were very different. Both could be wonderfully enjoyable but a scent, even if totally primal, could suggest something subtle. Ionera was not subtle. She had a smell, in a wonderful powerful way. It was unlike anything Victor had every encountered. He had only sensed it briefly when they had first met, but it nearly overpowered his dox-mind, which was ready to achieve victory through blissful surrender. Ionera smelled strongly and it was a complicated animal smell of musk and sweat and probably her zee as well. It was uniquely her own and Victor could easily have smelled it from her all day long, and lost track of the time without thinking. All of the Asharrans were primal and natural and well, alluring to a 18 year old Earth-Asharran dox. He had felt that way when he first encountered Theyna. That had been wonderful and amazing. Yet, this was different. This naked long legged Meeru, this odd little Asharran held him spellbound in a 207

R. Leigh way that made him hear fireworks in his head. “Why haven’t we done the Friendship doing?” was instead what Victor heard himself say to Ionera as they sat on the golden grass, not far from the arch, within sight of her father and the Oon. Ionera giggled and flashed a warm and seductive smile at him. Without a word, she pushed him down, easy since he was caught off guard and already sitting down. They performed the Friendship Doing, reciting the correct words to formally honor their “insides” and “outsides”. first touching each other’s foreheads and then each others genitals. While Ionera clearly enjoyed a second attempt at experiencing Victor’s, it was he who even more obviously was savoring his first chance at experiencing hers. Ionera’s father Oppapalo, watched approvingly from a distance. Even performing what was supposed to be a standard Asharran ritual Doing, the two teens managed to imbue it with much more sensuality than ever passionate Asharrans had intended. As the Doing was concluded, the seriousness suddenly turned into hilarity as Victor apparently discovered a ticklish spot on Ionera’s thighs, and she spasmed with laughter and then turned completely around, allowing him a better and closer view of her from the rear. This was completely enjoyable to him although it was completely unexpected when she suddenly arched her back and leaned forward, effectively lying on top of him, with her nish and tezz in his face. Her combined scents were primal and intoxicated Victor, not immediately realizing that from the angle they were in, Ionera was in the equal and opposite to his. His dox and darana’s were inches from her and she admired his scent in ways only an Asharran could. A few feet away, Oppapalo was surprised at this. It took a lot to surprise an Asharran but this qualified. He had 208

The Winds of Asharra seen many nishs and dox’s play openly in the Osharra. What made it fascinating was that it was being done by his daughter, Ionera. In all of her 18 years, she had never offered or accepted a Friendship Doing from anyone. Her father knew that she was down deep, a sensual Asharran, but few others realized this from her behavior. She had chosen to walk a less traveled path, until now. Now at this moment, she had completed a Friendship Doing with a pink skinned Iramu and she was straddling his body, upside down. As an Asharran, he approved and as her father, he was relieved. Victor at last allowed his inner tiger to roam free and he let his actions display his clear feelings towards Ionera. This was both love and lust at first sight for both of them. Without regard for their surroundings, they took advantage of the relative positions of their bodies and began to simultaneously orally pleasure each other. For other Asharrans, this would have been normal. For Victor and Ionera, it was glorious and liberating beyond words. The world spun out of focus as they concentrated only on each other’s textures, scents and tastes. He recognized the sounds of fireworks in his head and knew that this strange orange skinned girl was the perfect one for him, the only one. “I want to be with you forever.” he said, now totally sure of his feelings.” “Then show me in the Asharran way.” she replied, testing his sincerity. “Are you sure you don’t want me to change positions?” he asked, realizing in what manner she was requesting that he formally propose to her. “I will wear your scent with pride upon my face.” she replied. Feeling never more awkward in Asharran cultural tradi209

R. Leigh tions, Victor let forth a stream of warm zee which washed over Ionera’s face. He had offered to be her mate by marking his territory like her feline ancestors. The unconventionality of the act seemed less important to him, as he was now overwhelmed with nothing but love and devotion for this Meeru whom he had just met. It was a classic case of love at first sight except with the necessary cultural changes required in the world under the purple sky. This was not Earth, after all, and this proved it. “Here is the response to our offer”, she giggled. She laughed sweetly and within moments, Victor saw the salty spray exit her nish, inches from his face. The first burst caught his neck and chest and the second hit him squarely in the face, dripping down his chin. “We are pre-bonded, my mate-to-be!” she laughed, as she resumed orally pleasuring him. Victor felt giddy and similarly continued to explore and enjoy her. Victor Durant had listened only to his inner tiger, his dox-mind, ignoring his logical mouse. Culturally, he felt like an Asharran and he was now engaged to one. Ionera knew she loved all of him deeply in every way possible. He was her mate and she was his. Ionera loved both parts of him, the mouse and the tiger, but she saw him as having his dox-mind in charge. He was the hero, to her. If Victor was both halves of him equally and the name Vic referred to the mouse then Ionera instinctively knew that the Earth-Asharran required a new name, one that demonstrated a new identity. What he was to her was the tiger with the mouse inside, not the reverse. For her, he was not Victor or even Vic. “Your name should be Torvik,” she said tenderly, “That’s your name, not Victor. It reverses your minds and gives emphasis to your Greater mind.” 210

The Winds of Asharra “Torvik, “ the Earth-Asharran said for the first time, savoring the sound. They stayed there for a second, lying on top of each other. The teen decided to redefine himself. He had discovered the tiger inside of the mouse and now it was free but with the tiny mouse inside of it instead. He kissed her a thousand times in nonverbal response to her words. In the a short amount of time, they had declared themselves not only friends but pre-bonded mates. All that was left was to publicly fremm at the Osharra Circle and they would be completely bonded, or so they thought. Only now did they realize that not far away, they had been observed not only by Ionera’s father, Oppapalo, but also by a small crowd which had gathered. There was a considerable buzz from the observers about the body positions utilized and simultaneous nature of the pre-bonding ritual. Apparently, unknown to Ionera, if Asharrans pledged their engagement via the usual zeeing on each other but utilizing a position atop each other, rather than facing each other, it signified something more. It meant an urgent desire to become bonded. In effect, it eliminated the engagement period all together, and actually married them, even without the public fremming in the Osharra Circle. In short, although they would still have to publicly fremm there as per custom, they had actually just married themselves. They were already bonded now and the rest would be a formality. The immediate combination of the pre-bond Doing and the Bonding Doing was rare since most Asharrans did prefer an engagement period and this urgent form of Doing eliminated it. The crowd that observed them was aware of this and very impressed. All those present shared their happiness with them, humming at them in tune 211

R. Leigh with the dreegin on the strange tree (as Asharrans did not clap their hands to show approval). “Then we’re married, not just engaged?.” Torvik exclaimed in surprise. “We are bonded, my mate.” Ionera smiled a long crooked quirky smile. The small crowd dispersed, spreading word of this unusual bonding wherever they went. It was unique because one member was Iramu and because the Doings were so individual. Several Asharran nishs voiced their approval at the creativity the couple exhibited. In short, it was a beautiful ceremony and everyone went home happy. For Asharrans, this was normal and wonderful. Oppapalo congratulated the young couple after they finally disentangled themselves from each other. He had never seen his daughter look so happy. He did notice, however, that his daughter was rubbing her head and ears. “Are you shallow?” he asked but Ionera only waved him off. “We should go back to the Ligasteellia”. said Oppapalo, a word which could loosely be translated as hotel rooms. Ionera agreed and was very happy to note that they had reserved two rooms at the Ligateelia instead of one. Now, she could share the looshie cushions in one room with Torvik, her mate. “Did you notice the doh-rah?” Oppapalo asked the adolescents. “We were a little busy, Da. “ she joked to her father. Oppapalo laughed and continued the observation, noting that the doh-rah glowed and pulsed when the happy couple orally fremmed. “Maybe it was recharging?” Torvik suggested, wonder212

The Winds of Asharra ing if the crystal sword fed on energy as well as releasing it. That might explain your headache.” “I don’t know.” Ionera replied, but it is possible.” She turned towards her father. “Did Yavaran ever say?” “Yavaran”, Torvik asked? “Yes of course, she had presented me with the doh-rah. She had been the previous owner. I had reshaped it into its present form after receiving it from her.” “Reshaped it?” “Yes. The doh-rah can be reshaped into whatever form the owner finds appropriate although it can only be done once by each owner.” “That’s fascinating.” the Earth-Asharran exclaimed, realizing for the first time that the large unwieldy sword did not have to be so unwieldy. It could be made to fit him. “I know exactly the shape to form it into.” Ionera smiled. “I saw it in my dreams. I’ve seen it in my dreams for years.” “You never told me about these dreams..” Oppapalo pondered. “Da, I do not share every thought. My dreams also told me of Torvik, here. His pink skin and his manner and even his voice were all in my dreams.” “Oh really?” the 18 year old dox smiled, worried if he had some imaginary reputation to uphold. “What did you see in these dreams?” “Many things.” Ionera replied. “I saw you mostly but I also saw strange creatures chasing each other and fighting until they at last merged one inside of the other.” “Creatures?” said Oppapalo. “What kind?” “One was small and white and the other was large and striped and felt like a friend.” Ionera smiled to Torvik. “The mean little one finally disappeared inside of the large friendly one.” 213

R. Leigh “He ate him?” Torvik asked. “Don’t be silly. He disappeared inside the other one’s ear. He peaks out from time to time whenever he is needed.” Torvik smiled and knew that had to be the best way. It was true. His scholarly side was still a part of him. It always would be but his true self, his dox-mind was finally in charge and at the forefront. He was the tiger and inside the tiger would always be the mouse. Now it was not his jailer. It was his friend and ally. The little fellow only had to be informed who was in charged. Once the tiger was set free by the nymph, it was clear to the mouse and all involved who was to be in charge around there. “It should be a simple matter to find a zim artist, a zimlu and a crystal artist, a tiira-lu to reshape the doh-rah.” said Oppapalo. “My daughter will assist the zim shaper since we Meeru can also produce wonderful work.” It was unclear to young Torvik whether or not Oppapalo was referring to the quality of the zim shaping or the characteristics of the zim itself. “We will wait for you here.” the Oon thought loudly at them in its characteristic male and female voice. “We are sure that to us, you will take no time at all” Torvik laughed, knowing the Oons’ concept of time. “I offer my softest thoughts to you Torvik and Ionera. Speaking on behalf of all Plants we offer our joy and the stability of our devotion.” Huff flew overhead and made a soft la which was short and sweet. The Oon telepathically attempted to translate. “The dreegin speaks for all of his kind and wishes both of you a life that is filled with bright skies, warm breezes and sounds of every description. He pledges his assistance and offers to do whatever he can in the days ahead. He is proud and honored to be friends of both of you.” 214

The Winds of Asharra Huff let out a single short note. “And that?” Ionera said. “He thinks you are pretty but he wants to know if you would ever consider purple hair?” “Tell him, I prefer my natural color but I am flattered by his concern.” Ionera laughed as the tiny dreegin settled on her shoulder. It was the first time that Torvik had seen a dreegin land on anyone. Oppapalo told him that it was usually considered rare but that it happened to Ionera all of the time. The only other person he ever remembered seeing them perch on was his mother, Yavaran. “All roads lead back to Yavaran, “ Torvik mumbled to himself and she was a relative of sorts now. “Are we related too?” Torvik asked Oppapalo. “Of course, Torvik. “ He replied, clasping one of his muscular hands on the young dox’s shoulder. I am your Other Father.” It took a while for the Asharran to explain the general kinship system to the teenager from Earth but at least a few parts of it he understood. Your mother or father were referred to as your first mother or first father. A generation back would be your second mother or second father. However, what we would consider your mother-in-law or father-in-law would be considered your Other Father or Other Mother. If you went back a generation to them, they would be your Second Other Father or Your Second Other Mother. It was confusing and quite simple at the same time, if you grew up in the system. Ancestry was traced equally from both the male and female side in this way. It was really a bond not only between the couple but between families because you suddenly were creating a whole class of relatives stronger than in-laws. Luckily the vast majority of Asharrans bonded for life but even for those who did 215

R. Leigh not, the kinship ties made from the bond remained. Your Other parents remained your Other parents no matter what and treated you as such, even if the bonding to their child was dissolved. Torvik thought about asking about the terms for the NEW Other parents if the unbonded person whose bond didn’t work out, rebounded with someone else. You’d inherit an additional set of Other Parents. Luckily, he decided against asking Oppapalo, his Other Father, this question. It was getting confusing and Torvik had no intention of letting the mouse out at the moment. It was silently and obediently sleeping in the tiger’s ear right now and that was where Torvik wanted it. Torvik waved to the Oon as he and Oppapalo, his other Father, and of course, Ionera, his mate, walked back inside the Osharra towards the Ligasteellia or the hotel. Ionera had looked at the sky and told him that there was still plenty of Ya-time left. The plan was to meet Theyna and Zoe at the Town Circle at Yi-time. For now, they apparently had ample time to return to this Ligasteelia to either rest, fremm or begin learning how to use the doh-rah. It was the first time that Torvik, now no longer thinking of himself as either Victor or Vic, really thought of Zoe. It was odd and clear to him at the same time. She was still dear to him. She always would be and it wasn’t in that sort of we’ll still be friends kind of cliche. Zoe was indeed very special to him. She was a kindred spirit even though in many ways she was different. Zoe was his best friend and childhood confidante. She was also the first nish he had ever really cared about. However, she was not his mate. That was Ionera and nothing would change that. Zoe was a near miss towards a perfect balance. Torvik wondered and supposed that if he and Zoe had remained on Earth, they most likely would have gotten 216

The Winds of Asharra married some day and been really truly happy. For all of the people on Earth, they were truly the only two matched for each other. They were perfect. Yet, they weren’t on Earth now, where they? The universe of prospective mates had broadened to include feline evolved creatures and whatever other life currently existed on Asharra. When you increased that selection pool that widely and Ionera was in the mix, the definition of perfect changed. In a sense, both were a perfect match depending on where you stood, what your assumptions were. Both paths would yield totally different futures and possibilities. Something had just widened his possibilities via the Asharra-dobar so that the definition of perfect had changed. It had altered in such a way as to immediately make Zoe second-best, not in a cruel way but in some purely biological way. Torvik couldn’t explain it to himself or even understand why he might still be looking at it scientifically in addition to a more natural passionate way. It did not matter. His universe of possibilities had literally widened and Ionera was the result. He had now found his mate and was bonded. At 18 years old, his hero side finally emerged. The tiger had awakened and was the picture in his head of his dox-mind. He didn’t know if Asharrans visualized their nish-minds or dox-minds as animals but it didn’t matter. He had a friendly tiger inside, a tiger that had a little mouse in its ear. Victor wondered about what the meeting with Zoe would be like and how he would explain it to her. After all, he was always the articulate scientist. What he did wasn’t exactly scientific or was it? Pheromones were powerful things, the way animals sensed each other through smell. Perhaps it was just simple biology how he and Ionera matched their scents together and knew they were mated. There was the matter of her dreams, though. He couldn’t 217

R. Leigh explain that. He still wasn’t any closer to understanding what it was to be Meeru either. Things were getting increasingly complicated for Torvik but for the first time in his life, he was going with the flow, being carried by the winds of Asharra. He was observing the Kokayniah and following the principle of the Uatu. Could you expect anything less from an EarthAsharran? “Wait...”he thought to himself with sudden shock. For the first time since he encountered Ionera and did all of the rituals, he remembered the problem, the reason why he was going through all of this. He was infinitely curious, but he was doing all of this to determine if he should return to Earth. Now, how was that effected by his bonding to Ionera? What had he done? Did that mean that he had abandoned any thought of his father or of any possible responsibility to helping Earth people after he had experienced Asharra? If he returned to Earth, would he leave Ionera behind? Could he take her with him? Was it allowed, or even possible? His mouse ran around his head, escaping from the tiger’s ear, squeaking every manner of logical question to him. Trying to listen to his head-mind for a second, Torvik (or was he still Victor?) tried to sort out what had happened. Did he make a mistake? As they walked along, Ionera noticed the change in her mate’s demeanor and asked him point blank what was wrong. Trying to be logical and heroic at the same time, the Earth-Asharran explained the situation as best he could including conflicting responsibilities to his father and his species on Earth. Ionera could have cried. She did not. She could have gotten angry. She did not. Ionera even could have struck him or run away. That was not her way. She simply turned her head to one 218

The Winds of Asharra side, and then breathed loudly, sighing in an odd sort of way. You could not anticipate her next move. Her father had stopped attempting to do that years ago. Finally, she smiled at her mate and squeezed his hand. “Your little creature, what did you call it, your mouse, has forgotten one possible question.” she said. “What is that?” he answered in a small voice. “What if your Kokayniah is indeed mighty and heroic but it is here on Asharra with me, not as a guest or even just another Asharran? What if your path and mine enterwined in a new and different way, unlike anything anyone could ever imagine?” “Yes, I had not thought of that. Yes, but...” he interrupted. Ionera would not be denied her words. “What if, in addition to all of that, there is even another Kokayniah to consider, the Kokayniah of our children and theirs as well?” It was a powerful thought. She balanced a destiny with a destiny, a father with an Other Father, just as devoted to him, regardless how new. Everything countered and blocked the other. It could go either way, however. “I would very much like to believe this...I want to do the right thing, for everyone’s sake.” “Of course you do.” she smiled. “You are a hero and that is one of a million reasons why I love you.” “I truly hope that all of what you say is true,” he offered. “I saw it in my dreams.” she replied, trying to gently tip the scales. Finally, Oppapalo tried to break the tie by offering a bit of information from the Oon. “The tree hinted at many things when we thought to219

R. Leigh gether. They suggested that there would indeed be proof of what is to come and what may happen.” “Proof?” “Yes, Torvik,” his Other Father continued, “even a hero sometimes needs proof telling him how to proceed. There is no shame in this, especially for a young hero.” The statement would have had less impact on Torvik if he had realized that the Asharran concept of hero was something much different than to someone of Earth. It involved no competition, no battles or enemies. It was only a term that referred to growth and potential. We were all heroes to the Asharrans, it was the face we wore later today, the face we wore in the warmth of the Suns. “Proof.” Torvik thought to himself. That reassured him. For now, he still considered himself Torvik. He was forever bonded to Ionera. All of that was true. Now all he had to do was silence his mouse on this issue once and for all. He would find the proof of which destiny, which Kokayniah, was the true one. His quest would continue. He did not worry quite so much. It was still imperative to find Yavaran, however, his Other second mother. The trio continued to walk along the path from the main arch into the many intersecting branches of Osharra-kibur. For awhile, none of them spoke. There was so much to be taken in and absorbed. A lot had just transpired, life changing events and wonderful experiences. Oppapalo was stunned at the sudden transformation of his daughter. He was accustomed to seeing Ionera as the sensitive and often silent joy, flitting about from one thing to the next like a happy dreegin but holding deep feelings behind every crooked smile. She was natural and primal and true. It made him happy and proud as any father would 220

The Winds of Asharra be, especially an Asharran father. His ways valued these things above all. Yet, he always wondered if Ionera could be herself and be truly happy. Still, there were times her happiness was clear and obvious. For example, he had seen her laugh dozens of times especially around dreegins or friznaggles. The latter were tiny fuzzy green puffs of fluff which evolved to occupy the ecological niche that hamsters or gerbils had comfortably inhabited on Earth, except that your average friznaggle did not resemble a hamster or a gerbil in any way. A friznaggle had three dark eyes, one in the center of its head and one on either side. They had a tiny circular mouth and no discernible nose to speak of, just an almost imperceptible slit. The six legged creature with extremely short cropped green fur scurried about on Asharra, primarily during Yi-time as they were a tad light sensitive. Your average friznaggle was neither carnivorous, vegetarian or photo synthetic. In short, it ingested dreegin zim. This wasn’t considered offensive in any way since the zim from dreegins resembled long golden fibrous strands and smelled sweetly. In fact, the dreegins themselves held their own zim in high regard, often igniting it with their steamy breath or small puffs of fire. The result was a natural incense, rich and complicated, a little like sandalwood or the famous Nag Champa incense found on the part of Earth called India. The friznaggles did not have any highly developed sense of smell. In fact, they barely could sniff out anything, relying solely on their sight to search for errant bits of dreegin zim. You could say it was something of a symbiotic relationship as the friznaggles scurried about during yi-time, searching for any strands of dreegin zim and gobbling them up. This kept the Osharra mostly dreegin zim free, which surprisingly was a concern for the 221

R. Leigh Asharrans. It had become popular to gather dreegin zim for the sole purpose of lighting it as a natural incense. Many Asharrans lit dreegin zim sticks, which is what they were called after the zim was dried and twisted into a hard stick. Luckily, in this form, it was not appealing to the friznaggles. They only preferred the strands in a fresh form. Thus, it was a race between the friznaggles and some of the Asharrans in the mid hours of Yi-time, to race each other for dreegin zim, each with a very different intention in mind for the stuff. The dreegins thought this was of course, very amusing. It was especially hilarious for them given their wings and their ability to effectively hover at a great height, as they flapped, to observe the hilarity below. Sometimes, a mischievous dreegin would make a la, attracting both Asharran and friznaggle, produce its zim and then soar upwards and watch the competition for the precious end product. Whether food or incense, it was an interesting commodity and for the Dreegins, something of a sport, although the Asharrans and the friznaggles were the players. Oppapalo recalled that although Ionera had observed the Asharran belief that all life was equal and should be respected but not keeping pets, she did manage to bend the rule a bit. Specifically, the short haired Asharran nish had determined that if keeping any creature captive was the hallmark of making it one’s pet, she would only entice her friends to come visit here, especially in ways that would make her own osharra irresistible to them. Thus, the immediate area around the small adobe-like building where Oppapalo and Ionera lived in a neighboring Osharra, was regularly decorated with fresh dreegin zim. This required that Ionera would stay up late into the yi-time, collecting fresh dreegin zim, looking like a naked sprite as she danced 222

The Winds of Asharra from one tree to the next, examining its base for any trace of zim, below a branch were a dreegin might have been. She of course stressed the red trees as those were the ones the dreegins always preferred. In this way, it was a very common sight to see friznaggles darting about the building by the time that Ionera would awake, especially if she attempted to rise early since the creatures would always disappear before mid-ya-time, when it was brightest. Oppapalo had many happy memories of gazing outside of the perpetually open oza, the empty window cut outs, staring at his naked daughter gleefully playing with the little green friznaggles, waving dreegin zim in front of them and listening to them beep at her in delight. Naturally, between staying up late to collect the dreegin zim and getting up early to play with the friznaggles, this made the Asharran nish very sleepy by mid-ya-time. She would often curl up in a circle outside of the building, sleeping out in the open, exposed to the warm breezes of Asharra, resting on some looshi cushions. Oppapalo gazed at Ionera walking beside him. The look on her face was every bit as happy as those early memories of her playing with the friznaggles. This time, however, she was grinning not at some tiny creature but at her mate, at Torvik. Her hands darted over his naked body as they walked along, uncertain as to whether to caress the cheeks of his tezz, embrace his hairy darana’s, or encircle his dox as they walked side by side. As is typical for Ionera, she decided to do all three. Her own nipples were sticking straight out now, showing her obvious excitement at her proximity to Torvik. The combined smells of their zee mixed with his cum and her juices were strong and sent a clear message to any Asharran. Ionera was happier than in her wildest dreams, dreams which only now, Oppapalo was 223

R. Leigh becoming aware of. It was normal for Asharrans to dream. That was not the strange part. Dreams were even considered something special and powerful by the Meeru. They believed that their dreams were especially vivid and often contained scenes of strange and fantastic creatures or worlds and they shared the details of them among themselves often when they shared meals. Ionera had never mentioned any dreams, something that her father had just considered part of her oddness. Yet now, he wondered if the actual content was the oddest part of all. Had she actually dreamed of her mate, Torvik, who came from faraway Earth? How was that even possible? What other dreams did his daughter recall, dreams that she was keeping secret, even from him? It made him wonder and at the same time, view Ionera with a new sense of complexity. The description as complex would be just as appropriate if Torvik had been searching for a word to describe his new mate. He was entranced by Ionera and amazed how she somehow had taken the usual Asharran naturalness to an unusual new level. At least, there was something complex about it, something complicated. She was like them, like all of them, but yet different in a way they were not. Still, it did not make her any less Asharran. If anything, it made her more so. Torvik exchanged a few more words with her as they walked, smiling at her, and gazed at Ionera’s huge yellowbrown eyes. They were larger than his, as was the case of all Asharrans, but hers were even larger than what was considered common within their kind. They added an extra dimension to any expression on her face. A pouty frown became more pronounced, a quirky smile shined brighter and a laugh seemed to make them dazzle like shiny pol224

The Winds of Asharra ished stones. She once again complimented Torvik, referring to the strength of his ya-sha, his male energy. Her voice was smooth and of a distinctly lower tone than either Theyna or Zoe. It was like soft velvet or a soothing warm shower back on Earth. That reminded Torvik. Although he had only been on Asharra a short time, he was curious about proper etiquette regarding keeping oneself clean. After all, he was bonded now and he did not wish to disappoint Ionera in any way. Deciding to be direct about it, he asked her about such things and was a little surprised to learn that regular washing was done in the most natural of ways. You waited for it to rain. Whenever it rained, it was a sort of communal natural cleaning time as well as an informal holiday for the Asharrans. It was not uncommon to see them rush from their home, their personal osharras or even from the shops in the Wirambilu, even if they were in the middle of their bartering transactions. Then and there, a large part of the population just dashed outside into the rain, like a group of overjoyed adolescents. No one was forced to participate and some Asharrans did just smile from inside, if they were especially tired, or if they were in the middle of fremming. Nothing would interrupt that activity. Absolutely nothing. Yet, for the majority of them at any given time, rain was not just a meteorological event, it was a celebration. Was it a regard for the life-giving water since all Asharrans were vegetarian? Perhaps that would be true in part. It would also be accurate to say that it was a way for the Asharrans to experience Asharra in yet another direct way, apart from its warms breezes and touching bare feet to ground or stream. Rain was always slightly warm on Asharra. There were a few elders who told legends of a time when it was not but many regarded that as more humorous than enlight225

R. Leigh ening. Even if true, it did not matter. It was rain and that meant it was a way that all Asharrans could experience their world together. Imagine dozens, hundreds and sometimes even thousands of people rushing outside at once, raising their arms to the sky and beginning to dance like small adolescents as the rain poured down on their equally naked bodies. Some held hands or other body parts and danced together either in pairs or larger groups, improvising the steps as they went along. No music was necessary, although often a dreegin or two, or even more, might make a la for them to dance to, for the dreegins did not fear the rain either. Asharran rain showers were brief, never more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time, and occurred at no predictable intervals, although every few days might be the most accurate description. It was always a sort of natural surprise party in which no gifts were needed. You couldn’t even ask an Asharran why they danced in the rain. They just did. It was what one did and it made everyone happy. That was enough. Since most food was readily available to the Asharrans, not requiring planting or any serious gardening work, the rain was not a precursor for great bouts of tilling or planting. Yes, there were a few Asharrans here and there who liked to play at gardening, for fun of course, since there were more than enough varieties of edible plants and fruits and nuts for them. Even for these gardeners, the rain was something of joy, not just a part of their work. Naturally, it was a joy for the plants as well, since they did not have to fear drought or heat spells. If they could have told the Asharrans, the plants would have informed them that they too were dancing, only much more slowly, invisibly to the sight of the animals. In fact, in the short time that the Oon had been on Asharra, just a few generations, they had 226

The Winds of Asharra taught themselves some wonderful dance steps that involved elaborate waves of their upper branch limbs and swaying of their trunk and tapping of their roots. The Asharrans just moved to fast too see them. The dreegins couldn’t see them either, but they felt the glacially slow movements in their scales, and they often complimented the Asharran plants on their slow dances. It wasn’t until the arrival of the Oon, with their telepathic abilities, that a plant was able to reply and compliment the dreegin for making its la during the rain showers. This was greatly appreciated by the dreegins since the Asharrans still had not mastered the ability to communicate with them. It helped make the Oon and the dreegins great friends. Just before they reached the Ligasteellia, Torvik asked Ionera about her dreams of the reshaped doh-rah. He was intensely curious what form it would take that would make it easier to hold and use. “Our doh-rah is not long and straight.” she began, flashing her yellow-brown eyes at him, “in fact, it is not one piece, but two. Our doh-rah is curved and is really two identical pieces. Either you can hold both or we can share them.” “Oh really?” Torvik thought as he had never considered the possibility. It made perfect sense to split the weight into two pieces. Why didn’t he think of that? “In my dreams, the short haired Meeru continued, “I see the doh-rah as a pair of red curved flat crystal blades. Each piece holds one bright red blade. Attached to each blade is a long silver looking handle going straight across connecting both halves of the curve. The silver zim handle has dreegin heads on both ends and the larger red jewel in the original doh-rah has been split into a pair of eyes for each dreegin head, two pairs per half of the doh-rah. The 227

R. Leigh dreegin heads would be elaborately shaped and carved and the space between them, where you would actually hold the implement would be covered in rows of dark black rings stacked one upon another, actually a tough wrapping around the long space between the dreegin heads. There would be notches on one side of the red blades, cut outs for your knuckles and there would be small zim details, three silver dreegin talons on both the upper and the lower part of the blade, nearest to where the silver dreegin head handles would be.” Torvik was amazed at the degree of detail in which Ionera described the doh-rah. If she had seen it in her dreams, either it was a repeating image or she had some sort of photographic memory. Regardless which was the more accurate, the description of the red and silver doh-rah, separated in two and semi-circular, was vastly different than the red and gold sword-like creation which Oppapalo now carried for him. It was still too heavy for Torvik to carry for any length of time, after all, since he was only 18 years old. This new design appeared much more workable and as described, a work of art. Torvik thought for a moment to ask Ionera about the various uses of the doh-rah and how long it would take to train with it, after it was reshaped. They arrived at the entrance of a small adobe building, actually a large adobe building subdivided into many distinct ones and painted different colors to disguise the fact that it was all attached. There were no numbers on the doors since, in typical Asharran style, there were no doors. It made Torvik wonder, what prevented Asharrans from simply choosing any at random whenever they wanted. He thought for a moment and answered his own question. The Gleestoolia was free. The Ligasteelia apparently were not. They were acquired 228

The Winds of Asharra via the barter system and apparently Oppapalo and Ionera had paid for the use of two adjoining segments. Still, all of the segments were open and inviting. There was nothing preventing Asharrans from simply stepping right up and using them, without paying, without the barter. “That is not our way for those who can help.” Oppapalo said, correctly guessing Torvik’s question. His Other father explained that Asharrans would think it as empty and sick to steal and so, would not use a Ligasteelia without bartering. Also, a good portion of the proceeds from their bartering made the Xeeafaria, or free housing, available for those Asharrans who did not have enough to barter to obtain living space. Normally, Asharrans made the creation of living space a communal task, like an Earth barn raising. It was customary to give gifts to those friends who helped you construct such a building. For those Asharrans whose friends were too few or simply too old to provide the necessary barter material (to give away in this case) to build a new home, the payments and donations of traveling Asharrans in the Ligasteelia’s provided what was needed. To call the Zeeafaria public housing would be a misnomer since the styles and sizes of the buildings were identical to those that were procured through rewarded friends. Sizes only depended on the size of the family inside. There was no rich or poor on Asharra. That would have been empty and sick. “I will call you two at Yi-time” , Oppapalo said to the newly bonded, as he stepped into one of the building segments, a green one. “There is still time for you to talk or fremm each other.” The young Earth-Asharran made a sound half-way between a gulp and a laugh. Even though he had just fremmed Ionera, and in public, it still took some get used to having 229

R. Leigh her father, mentioning it, and so bluntly. “It was wonderful, Da.” Ionera cooed, “I don’t know what was better, Torvik’s tongue or his dox.” “Perhaps you will decide that after much more fremming. Perhaps, it will take a lifetime,” her father smiled. “Warm and deep, adolescents. Enjoy yourselves.” he said and disappeared into the green opening. “This is ours, Torvik”, Ionera grinned, pointing to the orange colored adjoining building, the next one in the attached row. Torvik playfully spanked her warm bare tezz and chuckled, “then let’s go.” They entered the small building and Torvik noticed immediate similarities and differences between it and the Gleestoolia. This structure, while one story, apparently held two spaces, one larger and one smaller. There were zim carvings and what appeared to be detailed woven tapestries on the walls. Again, cloth (apparently plant based) was evident but not for clothing of any kind. This pleased Torvik since he was enjoying seeing Ionera’s naked body and draping it in clothes, no matter how attractive, would be crazy. The two spaces in the Asharran hotel room appeared to coincide with a combined living room and kitchen as well as a separate sleeping room which had stacks of looshi cushions of various shapes and sizes on the floor. Torvik scanned the rooms and noted a few sculptures here and there and a low table similar to an Earth coffee table, obviously appropriate for Asharran style dining. Missing were such obvious Earth hotel elements such as a TV, lamps or a closet. The last element , of course, would be useless since no one wore any clothes. There was a large polished stone hanging on one wall which reflected well enough to be used as a mirror, but was slightly tinted amber. It revealed a 230

The Winds of Asharra beautiful view of the two naked 18 year olds and their obviously gleeful state. It was the first time that Torvik had encountered a mirror on Asharra and the first time he saw his nude reflection next to Ionera. He was speechless. They weren’t even teenagers by Earth standards, and they were standing next to each other blissfully naked. Ionera gazed into the amber mirror stone and casually brushed the fingers of her left hand down Torvik’s chest, moving lower and lower past his stomach until settling on his dox. She watched the sight in the mirror, noting the image of the two of them standing together and she was content. “We make a really nice couple. “ he said, admiring how natural they appeared together. “We are bonded, my mate. I fremm you with my eyes every time I look at you.” The newlyweds stood in front of the mirror stone and kissed before finally diving on the pile of looshies. The smile on Ionera’s face and the gleam in her yellow-brown eyes meant that her new discovery of kissing was a major surprise to her, but that she was a quick study “I want to fremm you right now, “Torvik said, pausing for a second, “but have we already done the part where we somehow guarantee you won’t get pregnant?” He recalled Theyna comments that Asharran biochemistry could prevent pregnancy presumably through willpower, but most likely via the creation of some internal hormones brought on by a conscious change in brainwaves “Done.” Ionera answered flatly as she looked into Torvik’s eyes, “which position?” “I can’t make up my mind.” he admitted. “Neither can I.” the 18 year old giggled. “Let’s try them all.” “I don’t know if I am up for that.” 231

R. Leigh “Silly dox,” She said. “I meant as soon as possible. Not right now.” They laughed together and somehow settled on a sideto-side position. This time, Ionera met his lips quickly and willingly. She was a fast study. The bonded adolescents, now lovers and mates, happily fremmed for as long as Torvik’s could hold out, before at last collapsing in sheer exhaustion. “Fremming wonderful.” she sighed. “pure Ya-sha.” They dozed off in each other’s arms for some time and were awakened by the sound of Oppapalo standing in the opening of their Asharran hotel room. They were still wrapped around each other and smelled strongly of their passion. “It is now yi-time. We should go to the Circle to see your friends, Torvik.” The teenager, smiled and nodded. He knew by now that there was no need to clean up. It was always come as you are on Asharra. Proceeding through the Osharra, Torvik explained to his mate and his Other Father, the plan that he and Zoe had devised to send a message to Yavaran, a plan originally suggested by Theyna. Oppapalo nodded in agreement, saying that he had himself been planning to do something similar if his mother did not get word to him after some reasonable yet unspecified time. “Such message crystals can be costly and there is no guarantee you will receive a reply.” he frowned, as he walked along with the long sheathed doh-rah dangling from his hip and a small parchment sack suspended from the other side. “I was afraid of that.” Torvik replied, hoping that his Other Father would have had more positive and hopeful comments. “So you were just going to wait around for her 232

The Winds of Asharra to contact you first?” “Yes”, Ionera answered, a gleam in her amber eyes. “We did not bring too much to barter with and we assumed she would contact us at Osharra-kibur, since she had done so previously, instructing us to come here in the first place.” “Sounds logical.” her mate answered. “So we have two chances. Either she will contact the two of you or I’ll get an answer to the message crystal once its sent.” Ionera smiled a sweet yet half-hearted smile at Torvik and squeezed the cheeks of his bare tezz. There simply wasn’t anything more they could do. Elsewhere, in the tiira-lu’s shop in the Wirambalu, Wole and his apprentices were attempting to finish up some of their more pressing orders for custom crystals. Lahsh had finished his break and hurriedly ran back into the shop with some interesting news. The smile on his face indicated that something curious had been happening in town. As natural and enlightened as the Asharrans were, they were not above spreading news of unusual events. It could not technically be called gossip since the focus was rarely negative or petty although it did occasionally offer pity and empathy if the news concerned something sad. “So what did you hear this time?” Wole bellowed to his apprentice. “There was a bonding by the arch earlier today,” Lahsh announced, “several people heard it from someone who knows someone who saw it.” “Wonderful.” Zoe laughed, “That certainly sounds reliable.” “It’s not uncommon for news, good or ill, to travel fast. “ Theyna politely lectured her younger Earth sister. “The paths it follows often contain as many twists and turns as 233

R. Leigh the ones we all walk.” “That’s what you get when you don’t have the Internet or phones.” chuckled Zoe. “We do have message crystals.” Lahsh said to her in an odd and yet firm way. “Yes, and from what I hear, they aren’t exactly instant communication.” “They are what they are.” Lahsh replied, inserting a more somber tone in his voice. His black hair seemed to bristle at her words or at least would have, if it were possible. “So tell us of this grand bonding.. what is so wonderful and different? So a couple couldn’t wait until reaching the Osharra Circle. What is new about that?” the giant blueblack steer roared with laughter. Lahsh was not taken aback by Wole’s display. Although loud and abrasive, Wole’s demonstrative ways did eventually become predictable and thus a bit easier to anticipate . “One of the pair-bonds was Meeru and the other was Iramu.” he said. “Now there’s something you don’t see every day. “Wole smirked. “Iramu almost always arrive in pairs.” Mixed bondings were rare on Asharra except in cases past the first generation. The adolescents of Iramu inevitably had to marry native Asharrans since they rarely had members of their own species from which to select. There had been a few exceptional instances where an Iramu pair from some planet had arrived on Asharra and discovered that some earlier representatives from their own planet had been on Asharra. Most of the time those representatives had returned to their homeworlds, leaving the current Iramu as the sole examples of their species. In a few cases, the 234

The Winds of Asharra previous Iramu from the same planet might have stayed and their children’s children’s children might still be living. However, by that time, they might have interbred with the native Asharrans so that they resembled a mix more than a pure strain to their newly arrived Iramu. In other cases, interbreeding was determined to be impossible and the Iramu couple simply lived out their lives and were no more than a memory or legend, if a new couple from their planet were ever to arrive. “The dox was an Iramu named Torvik and the nish, the Meeru was named Ionera.” Lahsh informed them all. The names meant nothing to any of them. After all, Meeru were quite rare, less than two percent of the Asharran population and this Ionera obviously did not live in Osharra-kibur since she was not known by name to any of them. Even though Asharrans could not spot a Meeru Asharran by sight since they appeared to be identical to them, they eventually learned the names of any Meeru in the Osharra since there differed in some traditions and manners, although they were certainly still Asharran in philosophy and any meaningful way. Theyna turned her head to one side, paused and then abruptly swung it the other way. She sniffed deeply into the air. “Is it me?” Wole chuckled. “No... I smell nothing.” she replied softly. “That is surprising. My smell is strong and mighty.” She playfully poked the large bull in his ribs and smiled at him. Again, she sniffed the air and became more confused and concerned. It was as if she was receiving a premonition, not visually but through her Asharran sense of smell. “I was not talking about you, my mate-to-be.” she cooed. “Now that you have finally returned from your break, “ 235

R. Leigh the Loak groaned toward Lahsh, “ you can take my place here and we can leave.” He was of course expecting to accompany Zoe and Theyna to the Osharra Circle. The huge bull was curious what all of the commotion was, what had been so important to Zoe. His mate-to-be, Theyna would obviously have no issue with his desire to go with her and her Earth sister and on that point, Wole was completely correct. However, there was another less obvious point that he was missing. It was so subtle that only Theyna was aware of it. “I want you to wait here.” she said to Zoe. “Why?” Instead of answering directly, as Theyna always did, she simply smiled a sad smile at the 18 year old from Earth. She had grown fond of Zoe in the short time they had been together and regarded her as a true birth-sibling in every way. Zoe was her sister, pink skin and unusual ears or not. Theyna would have to be certain of her suspicions before she could or would say more. “I would prefer you wait here. We will bring Victor back here. He does not know the way.” “That wasn’t the plan. “ Zoe protested stomping her bare feet, looking more comical than forceful. Her determination was muted by the sight of her thrashing around appearing impatient and demanding. It amused Lahsh and seemed natural to Wole. However, Theyna regarded it with concern. “Plans change.” she said coldly, as if laying down some invisible law to her younger sister. Zoe was not accustomed to taking orders from anyone. That included her parents, Victor or even a new Asharran sister. Yet, something in Theyna’s dark eyes, a look she could not completely identify, made her reluctantly comply. 236

The Winds of Asharra “You’ll bring him back here, “ she echoed, “You do think he’s all right?” “we will bring him here.” Theyna replied without further comment, hoping her premonition would be incorrect. “Then let’s go. It’s yi-time already.” Wole announced, looking upwards at the sky outside. Zoe studied her older sister and locked eyes with her as she left the shop with Wole. She wore a strange expression, full of compassion and warmth but a faint trace of sadness. Zoe flashed with hidden anger and then let it subside. What was her sister hiding from her? The crowds along the Osharra Circle were fluid and changed in size depending on the time of day and a dozen less obvious factors including the operating hours of the local Asharran pastry shops. Still, there were always enough Asharrans present, to guarantee a respectable crowd for any Asharran who wished to perform any particular public Doing in the Circle. Actually, the Circle was more than a Circle. The Osharra Circle was actually composed of eight different smaller circular areas on the ground, arranged in a larger circular pattern, circumscribed by a larger circle. The smaller circles which were made on the ground by either some dye or zim circle were large enough for an Asharran couple to stand or sit or lie down in. In the center of the circle of circles was always some symbol. This was the exact center of the Osharra, the center of the town. The specific symbol varied with the Osharra. For one, it might be the Yi-Ya, the Earth Yin Yang, which in addition to the principle of balance, unity and harmony, symbolized the two suns of Asharra. For another , it might be the symbol for a star, a flower or even a smiling face. For this particular Osharra, known as Osharra-kibur, the symbol was two wavy lines, one above the other, 237

R. Leigh known on Earth as the symbol of Aquarius. Here on Asharra, it was the symbol kibur, the symbol for a large body of water, a lake in this case since Osharra-kibur, the Home by the Lake, was the Asharran habitation closest to a large lake about the size of one of Earth’s Great Lakes located between the United States of America and Canada. The Kibur was still several days path from Asharra-kibur but this town was indeed the closest to it. At this moment, there were only a few Asharran couples within the great circle, arranging themselves in pairs, each in one of the smaller circles within. There were a few Doings taking place including a couple of Pre-bonding Doings, and one actual Bonding Doing, which had the largest appreciative crowd observing. Around the larger single outer circle were semi-circular benches of a sort, made completely of zim. They served as public seating and were raised on different levels, much as a modern theatre seating on Earth. The overall appearance, however, was much more like the ancient Greco-Roman open air theatres where the audience would sit cabaret style, encircling the performance at the center. Several large outdoor stadiums on Earth for sporting events were similar to this as well. The only main difference, other than the zim seating was that the overall shape was circular, not oblong like a Football stadium, that the scale was smaller, holding several hundred people, rather than several thousand, and that the central attraction was not one performance but rather eight simultaneous Doings at once, if filled to capacity. In Earth terms, it would have been like a three ring circus with five additional rings. It took awhile for Theyna to spot Victor in the crowd. They had not specified any particular part of the Osharra Circle in which to meet. Theyna could not have been able 238

The Winds of Asharra to predict with any certainty how packed with Asharrans it would be or even which of the eight inner circles, with their happy couples, would be getting the most attention. She did guess correctly that Victor would be at the Bonding Doing, a ceremony for two middle aged Asharrans who had found each other later in life. Theyna motioned to Wole and the two of them slowly made their way through the enthusiastic yet polite audience until finally coming close enough for Victor to see them yet still slightly out of shouting range. The Earth teenager, now calling himself Torvik, was amazed at the scope of the Doings, up to eight simultaneous ones, and of course, at the Doings themselves. At this moment, only four of the eight circles were occupied. That made it easier for Theyna to locate him. She appeared as attractive as ever to him, as Torvik noticed her now familiar form not too far from him. He was noticeably shocked, of course, to discover that instead of Zoe accompanying her, it was a giant dark blue two-legged bull by her side, making their way towards him. He could see faint puffs of smoke emerging from the creature’s nose. Theyna and the huge bull creature were rapidly coming toward him. “There you are “, she smiled in a familiar friendly manner. “Yes..” Torvik stammered, staring instead at the menacing looking giant bull next to her. At closer examination, Torvik felt that the classic mythological minotaur had sprung to life in front of him, large and rippling with muscles. The Loak snorted loudly, startling the Earth-Asharran for a second. “This is Wole, my mate-to be”, explained Theyna, seeming to radiate warmth as she spoke his name. “You’re not from Asharra.” Torvik said to Wole. 239

R. Leigh “You figured that out much quicker than I thought you would, “ the Loak replayed in a gruff yet droll voice. “Actually, my parents were Iramu. I was born here.” Congratulations!” Torvik managed to say with honest happiness to the couple , still unnerved by the sight of the huge creature. Theyna sniffed the air around him and almost fell backwards. At first, the smells of so many Asharrans had made it difficult to detect what she discovered. With her keen Asharran nose, she smelled Ionera on him and knew instinctively what had happened. “Victor, you’ve bonded..” she exclaimed in total amazement. “His name is Torvik now.” a young Asharran standing next to him spoke up. Her short brown hair and large yellow-brown eyes were striking against her darker copper colored bare skin. “My name is Ionera.” she said, introducing herself to Wole and Theyna. “We’ve heard of you, it seems.” laughed Wole. “Good news travels fast.” Torvik smiled. “Good news for most.” Theyna reminded. “We are Meeru.” Ionera said in a matter of fact tone, gesturing towards the bearded man behind her. “And this is Oppapalo, my father, now Torvik’s Other Father.” “You work fast.” Wole whispered as best he could at the 18 year old. “I respect that.” Torvik smiled awkwardly as the conversation continued next to him between Oppapalo, Ionera and Theyna. “You will tell Zoe. She is back at Wole’s shop.” “Shop?” Torvik repeated. “He’s the tiira-lu, the crystal artist. We were looking for him, to create a message crystal.” she reminded. 240

The Winds of Asharra “Yes, of course, I just didn’t think he would be ....” “What?” said the bull bluntly. “This tall.” said the 18 year old. Wole snorted , “Right.” Theyna poked the giant steer in the ribs again. “Don’t worry about him. It’s just his sense of humor.” she said. “That’s nice.” Torvik mumbled meekly, looking at the creature towering over him. “That’s what I’ve made her believe.” Wole chuckled, either being ferocious or continuing his private joke. “You will tell Zoe?” Theyna repeated to Torvik, this time as a question. “We will tell her.” Ionera interrupted. “I would not have it any other way. Wole leaned over to Oppapalo. “This should be interesting.” he grunted. “More than you know, “ the Asharran replied, “She’s my daughter. Believe me, she will not leave this matter ambiguous.” The giant steer shook with laughter, “Good. I’m looking forward to this.” Torvik, however, was not. The five of them slowly made their way from the Osharra circle in the direction of Wole’s shop. Meanwhile another couple had just begun their ceremony of bonding within one of the circles. The crowd was genuinely happy for them. Torvik was bit worried for himself and for Zoe. He never intended to hurt her. “She’s your what?” Zoe yelled at the top of her young lungs when she heard the news from her lifelong companion. She had been waiting for them to arrive, impatient and still smoldering over the situation. The two apprentices of 241

R. Leigh Wole’s had wisely decided to retire to the rear room of the shop, safe from the frey. Wole, however, had unceremoniously plunked himself down on a looshi cushion on the floor almost directly in front of Torvik and Zoe. Even the constant tugging at his arm or the repeated pokes in his ribs could not deter him. Theyna knew it was hopeless and soon did the only thing she could do, she walked away from him and stood behind her Earth sister, ready to add any comfort as need be. Zoe’s face was red. The space between her tiny shalas was bright red now as well. In fact, it appeared that almost all of her young nude body had become a bright crimson color. She stood coiled like a snake, ready to strike or at least ready to jump uncontrollably around the small room, unable to contain her frustration and shock. She looked Victor deep in the eyes. She had always admired his eyes. They were like hers, she had thought, only less adventurous. Now, what had he done? How could he have done it? What was he thinking? “Ionera is my mate. We performed a form of the Bonding Doing earlier today by the Arch.” Torvik attempted to explain. “You mean you fremmed her in public? Oh that’s just great.” Zoe shouted. “It is our way.” Ionera said in a low but confident voice. “I’ll deal with you later, “Zoe exploded, pushing the short haired Asharran out of the way. “Now that was a mistake.” Oppapalo thought to himself. He knew his daughter very well. She did not hold any grudge as she was always the healthy type, luckily. Still, she could flash with swift and temporary anger if provoked. 242

The Winds of Asharra Normally, as is the case for all Asharrans, she would be equally swift to cool and center herself, following the winds of Asharra. In moments she usually would be finding consensus, empathy and understanding with the other party. Yet, Ionera was still passionate, as passionate as any Asharran. She was perhaps even more so, only sometimes hidden by a quirky imaginary transparent shell which might be thought to mold itself to her nude body. She used this shell to protect herself from harm and completely eliminated it around Torvik. This was different. She was not only being provoked, it was over Torvik, her new mate. Wole looked over his shoulder at Oppapalo and smiled broadly at him. He understood they were watching something rare on Asharra, something not approved of, a channeling of yi-sha into pure fury. “Fine.” Ionera said to Zoe in a whisper, as she moved back. The maneuver was uncharacteristic of her and for a moment, Oppapalo felt proud that his daughter was not going to engage in such petty and shallow words with the Earth nish. No, she was going to do something more dramatic. As Ionera stepped back, the conversation between Torvik and Zoe continued to escalate. Zoe was wildly waving her arms by now and if possible, shouting even more loudly. “Victor! This isn’t like you, Vic” she cried. “It’s Torvik now. “ he answered, attempting to get a word in between her ranting. “How could you do this? We’ve grown up together. We were perfect together. People even we’d be married some day.” Zoe screamed at the top of her lungs, filled with pure rage at her childhood friend. “How could you betray me like this, now that we’ve re-discovered each other?” 243

R. Leigh Torvik decided that now would not have been a good time to launch into the we-can-still-be-friends speech, even though he actually regarded Zoe as something much closer than any friend. Instead he attempted something a little more logical. “We’ve always been together and it’s been great but even you have to see, Zoe, that we are not perfect in every way for each other. You’ve always seen me just like my father, a geek, and I know how that it irritated you. Well, it irritated me too. I am more than that. That was my headmind over my dox-mind, my mouse over my tiger.” He continued to ramble on for a moment or two, relieved that he had an opportunity between Zoe’s shouting and deciding to take full advantage of it by squeezing in as much as possible. He’d say as much as he could, no matter how awkward it sounded, still unsure how much Zoe was permitting herself to hear and absorb. “There’s a whole different side of me, that I can bring out around Ionera. No, that’s not it. She brings that out in me. I can really be myself around her.” “And I was doing something to prevent you from being yourself?” “No... I mean ... yes.... not on purpose. “ he stuttered. Torvik had never broken up with a girlfriend before. He had never been bonded to a beautiful alien on a faraway world either. Both scenarios were true and completely beyond his experience. “I’ve made my decision,” he finally told her, “and I hope you will accept it now and eventually understand it.” Zoe continued to sputter around the room, sometimes half crying, other times, barely missing a piece of crystal here and there as she paced and bobbed and weaved. Wole’s grin changed into pure terror when he realized that 244

The Winds of Asharra some of his inventory was at risk and it was only the firm grip that Theyna had around his darana’s that managed to restrain him. “Don’t ever do that again.” he growled at her, as he sat back down. “Only when absolutely necessary, my mate-to-be,” she cooed. It was an odd dance between Torvik and Zoe, especially for her as perhaps she was more angry at being rejected than hurt at what was lost. Each managed to get a few words in before the other tried in vain to repeat their points. Down deep, neither one wanted to hurt the other. They were still close in an unbreakable way, but there was a gigantic change to their relationship, one which Zoe was refusing to accept. “I don’t believe you. “she shouted. “This isn’t something you would do. This isn’t you, Victor.” Finally, Ionera noticed that Torvik had stepped back enough and Zoe had done the same, to enable her to quietly insert herself between them. At first without saying a word, the nude little Meeru, stood between them, her back to Torvik and her front toward Zoe. Both parties were unsure what she was trying to do, although it was perfectly clear to Ionera. This conversation was endlessly repeating long after the depth of its words were fading. She had to end it. She locked her feline eyes on Zoe and simultaneously bent over, presenting her tezz and nish to Torvik. “Fremm me.” she said deliberately and without clear emotion. “Here it comes.” thought her father, anticipating her emotional attack. The Earth Asharran was stunned at first but the sight of his mate’s shapely tezz and her nish at waist height was too 245

R. Leigh inviting. His inner mouse went scurrying further into his tiger’s ear, looking for cover. His tiger, his inner dox-mind, his true self, expressed his honesty and passion in the most primal of ways. He showed Zoe his true feelings for Ionera. In front of everyone, he entered her as Zoe held her breath as she watched her Earth friend fremm the copper skinned Asharran right in front of him. She heard the slapping sound of Ionera’s tezz, as it collided with Victor’s body as he thrust himself into her again and again. She watched him go from standing straight up behind Ionera, to a position where he partially folded himself over her, grabbing her shalas as he fremmed her. They hung downwards toward the floor and wiggled back and forth as she now bucked herself backwards to meet his body, “No, Victor would not do this”, Zoe thought to herself, “Not with her, not in public, not right in front of me.” Ionera grunted contentedly , “Fremm me harder, Torvik.” He did so, effortlessly as Wole, Theyna, Oppapalo and Zoe silently watched. Oppapalo observed the fremming, pleased that his daughter was so happy and never so true. She was acting more Asharran than he ever thought possible. Her nishmind was awake and danced with her mate with each thrust. He thought his daughter looked beautiful and he enjoyed seeing Torvik’s with her and could easily smell their combined scent. He was proud to have Torvik as an OtherSon and enjoyed watching them fremm. He hoped they would do this in public if the urge hit them, in addition to times alone together, for that was the Asharran way. As Ionera’s moans grew louder and more primal, she looked more and more naturally beautiful. Theyna did not immediately anticipate her own reac246

The Winds of Asharra tion. She had of course seen couples fremming in public hundreds of times before, in any possible position. Yet, she felt warm and happy as well, watching these two. She had only met Ionera moments but felt an emptiness there that she now knew that only the Earth-Asharran, now calling himself Torvik, could fill. Outwardly Wole, the great bull expressed primal joy for the new bonded couple. Inwardly, he felt a odd sort of kinship with Zoe. She had a nish-nature that was full of spirit, as was his dox-mind. In some ways, she reminded him of a younger version of Theyna. The steer thought of this as natural since they were sisters, until he recalled that they were from two different planets. Ionera did not even blink once as Torvik continued to passionately fremm her, She loudly groaned and grunted and tightened her muscles but she never blinked her eyes. They were locked into contact with Zoe’s, who still stood motionless in front of her. Ionera was not showing power over Zoe. She was only showing way was and that was natural. She was being fremmed by Torvik a few inches from Zoe and shamelessly displaying her passion. She never broke her gaze with Zoe. She had to communicate the honesty of this. Her happy screams grew louder and more hungry. Instead of shouting back angrily at Zoe, Ionera was shouting in pure pleasure, She stared at Zoe and never blinked, even when she began to spasm She opened her mouth and shared the sight of her impending climax as she began to shake.. Zoe had not said anything since Ionera had stood between them and presented herself to her new mate. Clearly, she was making the most primal of statements and clearly, it was being reciprocated. It could not have been clearer. It could not have been more Asharran. There was no more point in even discussing the matter. The 247

R. Leigh staring contest was over. The conversation was over. Zoe abruptly turned around and stepped towards Theyna, who greeted her with open arms. “You are ill but will soon be well,” she said, not chastising the incredible display of anger, something unlike anything she had ever seen. “He loves her.” Zoe said in a little voice to Theyna. “Deeply.” Theyna replied. “And they just met.” “Sometimes it happens that way.” “We were going to be together, I thought we would be together”, she confided to her Asharran sister. “Sometimes, the Asha opens up new possibilities.” Theyna said, trying to be blunt but still helpful. Victor and Zoe might have have been married some day if they had stayed on Earth. In their own ways, they were compatible, even with their mutual flaws and foibles. Yet, the winds of Asha blew in new possibilities, changing the very definition of compatibility. Now, with Ionera in the picture, it changed everything, like a row of dominoes being knocked down by a single falling brick. Now, no matter how the Earth teenagers viewed the situation, they could both only come to one inescapable conclusion. Ionera was perfect, a new definition of perfect. Victor was no longer Victor. He was Torvik and he was her mate. Nothing more had to be said. “Fremm” Ionera grunted as they finished their expression of passion. He held her motionless for a moment before withdrawing. She slowly spun around, and straightened up, feeling that her actions were entirely Asharran and true. Her father, Oppapalo, smiled approvingly at his daughter. “She has her own ways, her own unique interpretation 248

The Winds of Asharra of the natural ways of Asharra”, he thought to himself. “And she is happy.” The next several days, as expected, were uncomfortable for Torvik and Zoe. It was awkward for them to be around each other since no firm ground rules for the new relationship had been established. None of the other beings in the impromptu group seemed at all bothered by this new change of status, although Theyna did show the greatest empathy toward her pseudo-sister, her Earth birth- sibling. Still, even she was able to be authentically happy toward the newly bonded couple without any reservations. She just had the extra burden of knowing that Zoe was still slightly ill, by Asharran standards. She was ill or slightly empty because a tiny part of her did not want to accept the new status quo. If Ionera was aware of this, and she most certainly was, she did not show it to anyone. Still, Zoe knew this secret was not a secret to the long legged Asharran and it bothered her. There was a rift between them and there appeared no way to mend it. All parties hoped that over time, the best they could hope for was a perpetual truce between the two nishs. Until then, it was a bit tense to stand between them. Wole claimed he could actually feel sparks, but in his case, he found that mildly amusing. Time passed and some of the results of the earth zim were slowly coming in from various lu’s. It was clear that it indeed had some value apart from the obvious aesthetic one. The blue-green sparkly material was indeed pretty. Zoe wondered how long it would be before she would see something made of Torvik’s zim hanging around Ionera’s neck or adorning her arm or leg. She did not have to wait too long as the young Meeru appeared at the shop one morning wearing a small anklet of precisely that design. She said nothing and neither did Zoe. 249

R. Leigh It was decided that a group message would be composed for the crystal intended for Yavaran, something to the point but yet incorporating the needs of Oppapalo and Torvik. In that way, it was hoped that it might contain double the emotional and intellectual impact if her son and this unknown Iramu were to announce they wanted to see her. She expected some sort of communication from Oppapalo, after all. He had answered her request and come to Osharra-kibur with Ionera. Now he was just patiently waiting. Oh yes, she was now bonded to an Iramu and he wants to see her too... that would be the surprising part. Wole told them that it would take about ten days to grow such a crystal and he began at once. The message was encoded via some sort of group Doing that involved a dreegin. Since the services of the dreegin would normally have to be figured into the barter equation, it was fortunate that Torvik and Ionera were already familiar with one who had taken a liking to them. The purple creature willingly made a la over the crystal for a few minutes each day as it grew. Neither Torvik nor Zoe were exactly sure how the dreegin knew their exact wishes to put into the message. They had been instructed to sing or hum at the creature until it had flapped its leathery wings as a signal to cease. Neither child thought they had a particularly good singing voice and both were unsure what would be appropriate. Wole had explained that the exact piece or pieces of music chosen did not matter. In fact, even the notes did not matter. Apparently, the dreegin could sense someone’s thoughts simply via the tone of their voice, or in this case, the tone used in the song, the la. It seemed to be odd to the Earth -Asharrans but they attributed it to some great musical based empathy and dismissed any worries about the details. Either it would work or it would not. Being concerned 250

The Winds of Asharra about the details did not matter. Zoe asked if the dreegins were so smart, why weren’t they just used as carrier pigeons, taking messages directly, being in effect, recording machines with wings. Neither Theyna nor Ionera took kindly to that concept, with the latter explaining to Zoe in no uncertain terms how cruel that would be. Also, dreegins tended to have their concentration easily broken as they often flitted from one thing to the next. If they observed too many things in flight, en route to a destination, they might distort or even completely forget the intended message. The adolescents did not realize that the dreegin’s la’s were totally impromptu, improvised on the spot. It was understandable that they would not guess that since the songs were always so complex, especially when other dreegins joined in. Who would have thought that it was just made up as it went along? At least this way, the dreegin’s short attention span could be focused and through a process not entirely known to anyone, influence the growing of the message crystal. It took a few days before either Zoe or Torvik managed to ask the question of just how the crystal was delivered or how it was played. The answer made the dreegin encoding seem almost mundane. Simply put, the encoded crystal was either dropped down a hole, placed into a moving stream or in some cases, thrown into the sky for a waiting dreegin to carry. In every case, it was thought that the encoded crystal would somehow make its way towards the intended destination, like a message in a bottle. Unlike the captive Earth message, however, this one had a specific recipient. It wasn’t just randomly sent into the wild, with no focus or guess. How did it ever reach its intended recipient? Theyna explained to them with a completely straight face that message crys251

R. Leigh tals did indeed appear often directly in the path of the intended recipient as if by magic. Some sprouted out of the ground, others rushed by in a river or stream and snagged themselves on a rock and occasionally an anonymous dreegin would drop one, although that method was the most rare. “That’s crazy.” Zoe remarked. “And there is no telling how long it will take.” Torvik added. The two adolescents were dejected as this was not the efficient manner that they had hoped. Yet, Torvik felt more confident than he had first thought. He wasn’t any more certain as to how the delivery system worked but at this point, almost nothing on Asharra came as a total shock to him. After all, in almost no time at all, he had found the real love of his life and was bonded to her, his mate, Ionera. Luckily it did not take as long to reshape the doh-rah into the new form. This was due in part to the fact that Wole decided to undertake the task himself, not delegating it to either of his apprentices and partially because of the eerie completeness of Ionera’s description of the thing. She described it to the giant steer in the smallest of details, making him snort and laugh as he reshaped the crystal, carefully breaking it and enticing it to grow into the proper shape via some strange manipulations with his crystal tools. The remaining parts, to be made of zim were a group effort between the two apprentices and Ionera herself. It was a mixture of her own zim and Torvik’s that was used for the handles and the dreegin heads. Rapidly heating and cooling it and exposing it to several different liquids apparently provided the necessary properties of strength and color. Soon, it was a pliable silver material which Ionera shaped herself. 252

The Winds of Asharra Torvik was fascinated as the basic work was completed and the strengthened transformed raw zim composite was presented to her. The young Meeru sat at one of the circular work tables, naked as ever, and began to work and shape the zim. She used some long tools as well as her bare hands. Slowly, the incredibly beautiful shapes of the dreegin heads emerged in wonderous detail. Each blade held two heads where the tips of the semi-circular blades jutted out, attaching them to the handles so there were four almost identical dreegin heads in all. Wole provided her with crushed pieces of the red crystal that had been in bottom of the hilt of the great doh-rah sword. She pressed them into the shaped dreegin eye sockets until each of the four dreegin heads had two glistening crimson eyes. It was beautiful. The handles, as intricate as they were, took less time then regrowing the reshaped crystal into the new flattened semi-circular shapes. Wole and Ionera would patiently check the progress each day, with the huge creature leaving gruff orders to the apprentices to modify the growing compounds in which the crystals soaked. Zoe was beginning to think that the apprentices were being worked too hard and treated unfairly. She had a vested interest in this conclusion since she was slowly being assigned an apprentice role as well. At first, she was only doing the easiest and most basic tasks. She would fetch the various compounds for the others, based on their descriptions and replace them when they were done. She would study the progress of the all of the projects and watch over them the way a gardener checks his or her plants for signs of disease. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but she was instructed to tell either Wole or her two superior apprentices if any of the unfinished crystals in the shop suddenly felt wrong when she 253

R. Leigh past them or if they looked odd and malformed. The issues of sensing the appropriateness of the crystals resurfaced again in a discussion of how Yavaran would read her message crystal, when it was completed, and somehow delivered. Wole told Zoe that apparently, the crystal itself was a sealed envelope as well as the message medium. When held in the palm or pressed to the forehead of the intended recipient, they would sense or feel the content of the message. Close relatives might be able to pick up a feeling or two, the overall gist of the message, but only if they were really in tune with the recipient. In the vast majority of cases, one could only tell if the crystal contained generic feelings of happy news, or sad news and that was if the Asharran was like minded to the recipient or shared many of their interests. Otherwise, it was just a crystal with no apparent feelings emanating from it. At one time, Torvik would have been scrutinizing this process and admittedly, he was still very curious but he no longer desired to focus exclusively on such things. After all, he had all of Asharran culture to study and a very appealing naked 18 year old mate who loved to touch and be touched. Theories could wait for the moment or at least be re-prioritized. When the twin pieces of the doh-rah were finally completed after a few additional days and presented to Torvik, he was amazed and acted as though it was all of his birthdays rolled into one. They were simply magnificent and he could easily hold them in his hands. The weight wasn’t half of the larger model, being split in two as he had logically thought. Instead, they were curiously lighter, something that Wole had told him was attributed to the process of regrowing the crystal, not only for the proper weight but for the proper balance. The great bull had even fashioned a 254

The Winds of Asharra dark stand for the twin blades of the doh-rah and presented it to Torvik and Ionera as a personal gift from himself and Theyna. Ionera kissed the bull on his left cheek just past his large snout, learning the lessons of kissing from her mate. Wole snorted and managed something that to Ionera appeared to be a look of pain. Theyna explained to the Meeru nish that Wole was actually grinning in his own unique way. “You are certain?” Ionera asked. “Oh yes. “ I know his happy look, “Theyna smiled, without any further explanation. Ionera giggled wisely and motioned for Torvik to approach them. It was easy for him to hug Theyna in gratitude. He wasn’t about to kiss Wole on the cheek and he had never seen anything resembling a handshake so the 18 year old merely stood there for a moment in front of the huge bull creature. Finally, Wole clasped both of his hands on Torvik’s shoulders, pressed hard and lifted him right off of the floor. Wole shook him up and down, causing Torvik’s head to bob like some life size toy before he was finally let go and returned to the dirt floor. Smiling, but not knowing what was appropriate, Torvik looked at the two Asharran apprentices for advice. In classic pantomime form, one slapped the other on the back. Torvik took the hint and proceeded to wind up his arm, in anticipation of slapping Wole on the back. He did not notice the two of them laughing quietly. They knew what was coming. After Torvik gave Wole a friendly pat on the back, which was acknowledged but barely felt by the massive steer, it was his turn. Wole returned the friendly tap, with one of his own. He had meant no harm but it knocked the 18 year old over and nearly sent him crashing toward the other side of the room. Sitting at her work table, Zoe let out a small laugh, trying 255

R. Leigh to decide how angry she still was with Torvik or just how silly he looked. Ionera noticed this and silently raised one eyebrow. Zoe caught this and immediately stopped. It was an effective stalemate. The sleeping arrangements during these days were an obvious accommodation to the new status of the bonded couple. Now that Torvik and Ionera were together, it naturally changed plans. It had originally been the plan for Torvik and Zoe to stay with Theyna at her home. While still technically possible, Zoe ended any thought that Ionera might be welcome in any way there. Thus, the small orange two room Ligasteelia, the Asharran hotel room, became the temporary home for Torvik and Ionera. They had their privacy there, not that they absolutely required it. The mated couple radiated happiness, much to Zoe’s annoyance but luckily kept their public fremming to a minimum, perhaps out of compassion for her. Ionera did suck on Torvik’s dox whenever the urge arose, but that could not have been helped. The little brown-haired Meeru had to draw the line somewhere. Secluded in the confines of the Ligasteelia, Ionera and Torvik could freely express their love and experiment with pleasuring each other. They did this willingly and frequently. Such episodes were only separated by breaks to procure or prepare food. Both of them appeared to have an equal flair for cooking, something that surprised each of them. Torvik was of course very unfamiliar with the native foods on Asharra but, living on Earth with only his father and no mother, he had learned to improvise in the kitchen. As she explained and distinguished the various Asharran vegetables, fruits and herbs to Torvik, he happily took it all in, pausing of course to admire the perfect curve of her tezz. She tugged on his dox once or twice, to get his atten256

The Winds of Asharra tion and playfully suggest he temporarily concentrate on the food for the moment. It pleased her when he immediately repeated back all of the Asharran names for the vegetables. He appeared to be a quick study. For Torvik, the memorizing was easy. He was more than accustomed to memorizing long lists of complicated tables and formulas from his father’s studies. Vegetables would not pose any particular problem. Cooking via crystal, however, did take some getting accustomed to, as he had no frame of reference. The flat crystal base on which one placed the food was not exactly a stove and not exactly a microwave. The cook was supposed to place various crystals around the large flattened one, depending on the required heat level and cooking technique such as simmering, sauteeing or baking. It was complicated and there apparently was no manual. The process was more artistic than mechanical, relying on the skill and mood of the cook. One could produce subtle flavors and enhance existing ones all through proper crystal arrangement. Torvik paused for a moment, stepped away from the cooking table and squatted. He produced a small quantity of sparkly blue-green zim from his tezz and casually placed it on the far side of the table. The Earth-Asharran had by now become completely accustomed to the Asharran practice of answering nature’s call immediately and wherever you were. That was not especially difficult since the result, either zim or zee was not offensive to the culture. In fact, the production of zim, with its sweet aromas when fresh was integral to Asharran culture. Squatting in the middle of the room in front of Ionera, nevertheless, was a change from Earth conventions but Torvik was getting accustomed to the Asharran way, a house without the need for bathrooms. When both of the end products were not offensive 257

R. Leigh and not useless, there was no need for such a place in the house. He was however surprised, when he finished preparing his meal and offered it to Ionera to taste. She sampled the vegetarian stew willingly and politely accepted the offer to be the first to taste it. Torvik had not expected it to be anything of a surprise since all of the ingredients and the spices were already familiar to her. Yet, she looked at him with great shock and glee, putting down the small rectangular plate and placing her arms around him. Her perpetually naked body met his and he ran his hands down her back, settling at last on her tezz. “That was incredible.” she squealed. “There will be plenty more later.” “No, silly dox. I meant the food. Taste it.” Torvik scooped a bit of the vegetable stew out with his fingers, quite acceptable by Asharran etiquette. He popped a finger full into his mouth and closed his eyes. While he experienced a nice spicy blend of flavors and textures, as expected, there was something else, something very unexpected as well. “What is that flavor?” Ionera asked, savoring the taste in her mouth. “Pizza.” Torvik replied. “it tastes like pizza.” He explained the concept of pizza to Ionera. No, it was more important than that. He explained to her the experience of pizza, the tender crust, just the proper texture and the most wonderful blend of flavors required for any proper tomato sauce. Lastly, he told her of cheese, mozzarella cheese, so vital to any perfect pizza. Torvik was not a fan of the addition of any other topping. Coming from a region of Earth, called New England, he was more accustomed to having his pizza without all of the extras. He preferred the 258

The Winds of Asharra basic model in all of its glory. Now, on Asharra he was sampling a bit of homemade vegetable stew and it tasted like pizza. No, it tasted exactly like the pizza he used to get back home, down to the extra flavor of cheese when it was seared to perfection, a little bit pully but still firm enough to stick to the pizza. He could even taste the seasonings. “This is crazy. “he said to her, “but delicious.” The two nude 18 year olds greedily gobbled up the pizza flavored stew, playfully fighting over who would get the next fingerful of the concoction. Ionera smeared it over her shalas and waved them in front of Torvik’s face. He laughed and dived at her, lapping up the warm sauce on her body. “Hmmm.. the best of both worlds.” he moaned, “You didn’t tell me you had herbs that would make it taste like pizza.” “We don’t Torvik. At least I didn’t think we did.” she replied, as she smeared a bit of sauce on various of his body parts. “It tastes just like what I used to get on Earth.” Torvik marveled as Ionera began to lick at his body, now covered with pizza sauce. He looked back at the flattened crystal and the zim pot in which the remains of the sauce were in. He stared at the other crystals which were placed in a triangular pattern around the large flattened one. Finally, he caught sight of the small piece of his own zim that was near the edge of the table.” “Oh zim!”, he exclaimed, echoing an earth expression. “It actually is my zim. How is that possible?” “Were you doing anything unusual with it?” Ionera asked, pausing long enough for her question as she began to suck Torvik’s dox, now covered with pizza sauce. “No, I don’t think so.” 259

R. Leigh “Think harder.” she said, making slurping noises as she sucked him. The flavor of his dox combined with the wonderfully strange sauce was beyond pleasure for her. “Well, I did think about a place I used to go to on weekends.” Torvik recalled, “It crossed my mind when I was cooking the stew... and my zim was not far away from the crystals.” “That’s it.” she said, only half understandable as she sucked him off. “My zim can be used for cooking.” he said, marveling at the process. “Somehow my thoughts interacted with the zim and the cooking crystals and the existing food and ...voila! pizza sauce.” “I like to eat it from your body.” Ionera giggled like a small child, one that was busily taking his dox into her throat. She motioned for the cooking pot and retrieved another finger full to apply to Torvik’s chest. “This is going to be a regular dish, “she said, smacking her lips as she licked him. Torvik laughed at her cute bluntness. As much as he had been exposed to Asharran culture, Ionera still made him laugh at her turn of a phrase. Her slightly lower voice, made the subjects sound serious but her wild amber eyes flashed brightly as she spoke. The wide grin on her face, when she wasn’t sucking him off, made it clear when semiserious phrases were actually hilarious comments. “You can be a chef, a food-artist, a zata-lu”, she exclaimed. “And open up a chain of pizza shops.” Torvik chuckled. Actually, he did wonder if there were any limits on what food flavorings he could produce. Was it limited to his strongest memories or his favorite dishes? What was the exact relationship between the placement of the crystals 260

The Winds of Asharra and his zim? Did the exact mixture of vegetables used make the process work better or could use anything as a base? The questions swirled around his mind as best they could. Ionera swirled her tongue around his dox and began to pump it furiously. “I can’t think straight.” the 18 year old said. “I should hope not.” giggled Ionera. “or I wouldn’t be doing a very good job at his. I haven’t exactly had much experience doing this.” Torvik said nothing but only then was beginning to realize just how unusual this Meeru was, especially in Asharran culture. She was as open and natural as any Asharran, maybe even more with that added dash of gothic pixie humor. Still, she had apparently not touched anyone intimately including herself before he had arrived. That was increasingly rare on Earth but on Asharra, it was bizarre. The look on her face was pure glee as the last of the pizza sauce disappeared from his body. She burped unexpectedly and both teens laughed automatically. Apparently, somethings were universally humorous. Torvik leaned back and stretched out on the floor. As a bonded couple, they would soon be starting their regular Doings , celebrating the four recurring Asharran Doings reserved and designed to celebrate their union. Using delicious food as edible adornment would definitely play a role in this. Ionera began to explain the four Doings to him in great detail. and the idea of four rotating holidays for bonded couples seemed so natural and appealing to him. It certainly made a lot more sense to him that Earth holidays which commemorated things much less positive or were simply excuses to foster nationalism. In the Asharran way, these regular Doings were designed to instill and maintain love, admiration, closeness and passion. Ionera in261

R. Leigh formed him that they could begin celebrating the four Doings at any time, starting the repeating weekly cycles but that there was no hurry since it was expected that newly bonded couples would naturally enjoy themselves without regard for any particular doings. “A honeymoon”, Torvik smiled to himself, they were on honeymoon. They snuggled together on the looshie cushions as might be expected and took a short nap, together like matching spoons, his body wrapped around hers. When they finally awoke, Ionera tugged at Torvik’s arm to get his attention. He was still partly asleep and not intending to wake so early. “It’s time to begin the doh-rah training.” she announced. “It’s not a school day.” he replied, making a joke which she obviously did not get. “The crystals have had enough time to mix their energy and particles with the handles. We can proceed now, Torvik. We have to do this.” The young Earth-Asharran opened his eyes and rubbed them a few times as he blinked the world into focus. Ionera’s smiling face and larger than normal amber feline eyes met his as Torvik finally returned to full consciousness. She was absolutely correct. In fact, he had been extremely anxious to learn more about the doh-rah and actually learn to use them, now that the entire issue of their size and weight had been addressed. Naturally, both of his minds had been preoccupied with other things. His dox-mind, his inner tiger was naturally very interested in his new mate. “Ok” he smiled. “How do we start.” Ionera instructed Torvik to retrieve the curved dreegin blades which were sitting on the custom stand which Wole 262

The Winds of Asharra had made for them as a gift. He did so, carrying them together, in the stand and placing them to the center of the room and placed them on the dirt floor. “Are you sure about the energy and particle part?” he asked. His inner mouse was intensely curious about what manner of physics was at work here but Torvik was uncertain as the level of knowledge that Ionera possessed about the doh-rah. He didn’t know if perhaps her answers might instead make the whole thing seem more magical than scientific. A few days ago, that would have bothered the young Earth-Asharran. Now, he was beginning to feel that the exact definition of science and the dividing line between it and magic were vague and fluid. After experiencing what he had already seen on Asharra, Torvik was now much more willing to disregard the hard and fast dividing lines of categories and classifications. He wasn’t entirely tossing out everything he had ever learned on Earth. No, Torvik still valued his studies very much. Now, they served more as a reference point, rather than an absolute law. He truly was changing and really feeling Asharran. His calculating scholarly side was being integrated into his romantic heroic side, a side which could easily embrace concepts that included the mystical and the unknown. After all, he was Torvik now, not Victor and certainly not Vic. “We must purify the material first. Remove the dreegin blades from the stand and place them on the floor, about a foot apart.” she instructed. The mention of purification definitely sent the 18 year old teenager into visions of the magical rather than the scientific, at least it appeared so outwardly. He imagined mystical incantations, lots of smoke or incense and maybe even a special dance. 263

R. Leigh “Now we zee on them.” Ionera remarked. “Obviously we do.” groaned Torvik. That appeared more the Asharran style by now. “The handles were made from our zim. The blades are from rare red crystal. Our zee will act as a catalyst and activate the energy inside both. They will also bind the dreegin blades to us, just as we are bonded to each other.” “That sounds almost scientific”, he smiled. “You’re teasing me.” said Ionera, as she put on a pouty face, jutting out her lower lip seductively. “No, really I’m not.” “Then be serious and zee on the dreegin blades.” They stood opposite each other, naked as usual, and zeeed on the red and silver doh-rah, pausing for a moment to switch positions to repeat the process for each of the two pieces. “How common are doh-rahs?” Torvik asked as he zeeed on the blade. “Shhhh...” Ionera told him, He was silent and watched her intently zee on the two carved items. Instead of fully squatting, she only slightly bent over but spread her legs widely. Torvik watched the golden stream leave her body and land on one of the dreegin blades. He could hear a faint crackling sound as her zee made contact with it, something he would have missed, had he continued speaking. “Amazing.” he thought to himself. He inhaled deeply. It appeared that the smell of their zee was intensifying after coming in contact with the dreegin blades. A gust of the musky smell rose upward at both of the adolescents, filling their nostrils. “It’s working.”Ionera announced. “It is?” 264

The Winds of Asharra “We’re almost ready to fill them with energy.” Torvik assumed that momentarily he would be fremming his mate again, if his guess on how to charge the dreegin blades was correct. Unfortunately for him, it was not. “Zee a little into your hands.” she instructed in the manner of a teacher casually saying “open your English books”. “Now what.” Ionera sat down on the dirt floor on one side of the blades and gestured for Torvik to do the same, opposite her with the blades between them. She outstretched her zee soaked hands to him. Following her lead, he reached to her and they clasped hands, rather wet hands, now mixing each other’s fluids. Between them sat the dreegin blades. “Maybe it acts as a sort of energy conductor and we are completing the circuit by zeeing in our hands and joining them together.” he thought. Torvik was basically correct in this assumption. The two nude adolescents sat there holding hands, mixing their zee together to bind them with the blades crackling quietly between them. “Now what do we do... meditate?” he asked, trying to test his assumptions about the magical. “No... silly dox. Now we talk.” “Talk?” he said, “why? About what?” Ionera gazed at him lovingly and with her quirky smile. She squeezed both of his hands and laughed softly. Torvik wasn’t sure if that was part of the Doing or if she just thought he was being amusing. “The particles of the doh-rah have been purified and bonded to us. Now we need to strengthen its energy and that comes from talking. “As we sit her in a circle together, 265

R. Leigh our energy, our sha, moves through our bodies.” she said. “Like chi on earth.. it’s what makes acupuncture work.” “As we talk to each other, the sha levels will harmonize and balance with one another. Eventually, my yi-sha will flow through my hands, and into yours, thanks to the our zee on our hands. Your ya-sha will flow out of you and circle into me. The sha will flow faster and faster until finally, some of it will spill over onto the ground.” “It will fill the doh-rah with energy.” he said, finally grasping the concept, no matter how strange it sounded. “Yes. It’s part of the Food Doing which we all say before meals.” “We haven’t been saying anything before meals... “ “We’ve been a little busy, Torvik. Now that we are bonded, we should do that every time.” He asked her to recite the Food Doing since she seemed to relate it to this energy transfer. Pausing for a moment, Ionera closed her eyes, opened them and began to recite in her usual low voice: “Warm and Deep we walk the Path. Our Asha flows through our body and onto the ground. As Asha becomes the Winds of Asharra. Asharra, Ishanna, Osharra. Ever Home, Ever True, Never Empty.” Torvik looked at her in sudden amazement. She looked like she was glowing. “That was beautiful, Ionera.” “It is our way.” she smiled. “Now it is your way as well.” Torvik paused for a moment, reflecting that perhaps simple conversation was the way to charge the doh-rah but there was nothing simple about it. Ionera informed him that they should tell each other anything and everything they could think of, no matter how silly or how small. This was a time for intense sharing. She wanted to know everything 266

The Winds of Asharra about him, his history, his likes and dislikes, his favorite colors and favorite sounds, everything. Likewise, there wasn’t a single area of her life closed off to him. She wanted to pour out herself to him as they sat naked in a circle, holding wet hands. They did precisely that and lost all track of time. It did not matter. They were learning about each other, experiencing each other, in a way just as deep as when he would fremm her. They were fremming with their words and their laughter and their shared tears. There were no secrets between them. The crackling sound of the doh-rah ceased and was replaced by a soft buzzing. The crimson blades began to slowly pulse in no particular cadence, sometimes quickly, sometimes not. It was being filled with their energy, their sha. His ya-sha and her yi-sha moved through their bodies, revolving around in a circle, faster and faster. The adolescents could at last feel it as the pace of the sha’s movement continued to be increased. It combined and sped around still faster, occasionally spilling over onto the ground. “as Asha becomes the Winds of Asharra.” Torvik recalled, the words of the Food Doing. Their energy was changing form and residing in a potent combination within the doh-rah. “Did your father do this with your mother when he first received the doh-rah from Yavaran?” Torvik asked. Ionera grinned, “Oh yes. It was a little different since the doh-rah was one piece but they shared this Doing just as we are.” “Beautiful.” Torvik mumbled to himself. It was difficult to say how much time elapsed as the nude teens sat there, talking while their combined energy swirled around and around and onto the ground, charging the doh-rah. They missed meals, but they could not tell you 267

R. Leigh how many. They had to zee and zim, and did so, without getting up or unclasping their hands. Their zee formed a puddle between them and pooled by the doh-rah. If they were sleepy, they could not tell because all they could do was continue sharing their stories, their childhood and their dreams. Ionera began to tell Torvik her most secret thoughts, her insecurities and her dreams. The former were mostly little things, the types of things any nish on Earth might have. She had been afraid that she would not pleasure Torvik enough while fremming. She had wondered how enjoyable it would be for herself and she had worried that they would never meet, although her dreams had indicated otherwise. The Meeru’s dreams were perhaps the most special and unusual elements of the entire experience. She related them to Torvik in no particular order and they seemed to bolt out of her like a rushing stream of consciousness. Some of them were wonderful and apparently prophetic, including visions of himself, Others might be symbolic, involving deep caves and a sensation of flying. Torvik could not even guess how to analyze them. On Asharra, almost nothing was as it seemed and everything seemed different than anything the Earth-Asharran expected. Ionera’s yellow-brown feline eyes seemed to twinkle in the reflected light from the crimson blades of the doh-rah. They made the entire experience more magical if that was even possible. Feeling the energy, the sha, whirling about around them and listening to the hum of the pulsating doh-rah, was remarkable for young Torvik. It was totally unfamiliar and strange but at the same time, he never felt more at home. “Asharra, Ishanna, Osharra.” he thought, “all different words for home,” He told his mate everything he could think of about his 268

The Winds of Asharra life on Earth including his admiration for his father, the various subjects he had studied, his heroic daydreams and his secret hopes. The last one included of course, finding someone just like her. No, it was his secret hope finding Ionera. He told her about growing up with the constant and welcomed appearances of Zoe, how she was his childhood friend and confidante. The stories made Ionera laugh and cry at all the right times. She felt his past and he felt hers. They knew that they would still have hundreds of questions for each other after this remarkable session was over. This one remarkable protracted conversation might have its purpose in charging the doh-rah but it also helped open themselves up to one another. By the time they were done, too tired to say another word, they felt they had known each other for years. The two adolescents had grown up on different worlds and still held many surprises for each other but at this one moment, they shared each other’s histories. Day by day, they would build a common history together but today they freely shared their pasts and their selves. The dreegin blades suddenly flashed with a bright white light before returning to normal. “They have been filled.” Ionera said groggily as she weaved to one side, catching herself before her head hit the dirt floor. It would have been more logical for Torvik to pick her up or prompt her to go to the smaller room, on rest on the looshie cushions, However, they were both drained, physically , mentally and emotionally. They were exhausted and barely able to move. Torvik used his remaining strength to rest Ionera’s head on his shoulder as he lay next to her on the floor, tired and spent. She had already closed her eyes and was dreaming new dreams. Torvik smiled quietly, careful not to wake her. He studied her face, now com269

R. Leigh pletely relaxed, memorizing every detail and feature. She was his mate and he already loved her dearly. Curiously, he noticed that her odd feline ears on the top of head were twitching. “Perhaps that is how she dreams, “ he thought incorrectly to himself. He brushed a few errant strands of brown hair from her forehead and noticed what appeared to be two small and faint bruises on her forehead. Torvik took note of this and then promptly collapsed into deep sleep next to her. The days since the initial incident with Ionera were luckily beginning to become less stressful for Zoe. She continued to work as apprentice for Wole, who was proving to be a difficult taskmaster. Although it appeared that she was making progress in her duties, now being assigned more complex responsibilities, there was still little praise or much indication of positive feedback. “I’d do a lot better with a few kind words now and then.” Zoe groaned quietly as she worked. Lahsh, her immediate supervisor and fellow apprentice laughed, flicking his black hair out of his face as he sat at the next worktable. “Kind words and Wole are like friznaggles and droopadas. They don’t mix” Zoe nodded, not having a clue what a friznaggle or a droopada was. She had started taking a liking to Lahsh, even spending her breaks with him whenever possible but she wasn’t sure if anything would come of it. She was attempting to focus on her apprenticeship, a necessity since she broke the greenish-yellow crystal when she first entered the shop. “It really wasn’t totally my fault.” she thought to herself. “I mean, who wouldn’t laugh at a bull in a china shop? 270

The Winds of Asharra It’s all Wole’s fault.” Down deep, she knew otherwise but it temporarily comforted her to have a target for her frustration, regardless whether or not it was entirely accurate. Zoe always enjoyed the drama of life and managed to inject some into everyday affairs even when it did not seem entirely obvious or appropriate. It was just her way and it did not seem to be something that would have to change just because she was now living her life on an alien planet. “If it weren’t for my time in the shop, I could be exploring life on Asharra, “ she thought to herself. It only took a few minutes for reality to re-emerge in Zoe’s minds, and force her to recall what requirements might exist on Asharra. The rules might be totally different here but it she were to stay on Asharra, she’d have to pay her own way, just like on Earth. Sure, that might involve some vague barter system rather than money or credit cards and an entirely new way of living, but there were still some basics. She would need a place to live and some way to support herself. Even at 18 years old on Asharra, she was not in a position to live with parents and go to school for so many hours per day. For the moment, Zoe was living with Theyna which was of course, part of the original plan. Yet, when Theyna had made that invitation, she had not been engaged to Wole and that of course complicated things immensely. For some reason, Wole had not moved out of the small adobe home he had, a place which he lovingly referred to as “The Pit.” Zoe assumed that it was going to be a future subject of discussion between Theyna and Wole but secretly hoped that she herself was not part of the reason. There was the distinct possibility that the giant bull did not move in with Theyna, into her larger home, because Zoe was staying 271

R. Leigh with her. It was not something that Zoe wished to bring up to her Asharran older sister but she knew she eventually might. Theyna’s home was indeed larger and made of a light blue crystal, rather than the more common adobe or reed buildings. At first, Zoe assumed that Theyna must be rich since there seemed fewer crystal buildings in the Osharra than the other two types. She had not seen any indication of wealth but secretly wondered if perhaps it would explain Theyna’s carefree attitude and the fact that she didn’t appear to have any clear occupation. “Maybe she’s a famous starlet.” Zoe fantasized. That didn’t exactly jibe with Theyna’s whirlwind romance with the big blue abrasive bull but the earth nish thought that anything might be possible. She asked Theyna about it and received a not so surprising response. “I sing.” she said simply. “I knew it.. that day outside with the dreegins. You’re voice was beautiful.” She imagined her older sister as a sort of interplanetary rock star, complete with an entourage and fans. Yet, Theyna had been walking on that path all alone when she and Victor had met her. What was up with that? “So you’re like famous?” Zoe asked, expectantly. “No.” Theyna laughed. “Don’t tell me you sing at a bar?” Zoe joked. The concept of bars or alcoholic beverages was unknown on Asharra. They did have something very similar to chocolate called eeb, which was enjoyed by everyone, but that was the closest thing to indulgences of that kind. Theyna saw some flashes of what Zoe was talking about thanks to the nish-mind sisterly link they had shared. It wasn’t that Zoe had ever been in a bar. She was too young for that. Her memories were strictly from television and 272

The Winds of Asharra videos. It still was confusing to her Asharran sister. She didn’t sing in bars. “So where do you sing?” “At school.” she replied. “I show others and help them develop their voices.” “You’re a teacher?” Zoe said, her sisterly dreams obviously deflated. “but I thought you were someone important.” “Silly nish.” Theyna replied, “I thought you were deeper than that. People are not important --- only feelings are important. People are all potentially warm and deep, and all the same.” “So the reason why you don’t seem to be working is ....” “My voice could not take it if I sang all day and all night. Besides, I show people how to sing when they wish to learn.” “A flexible schedule... just what I wish I had.” she smiled. “Don’t worry about Wole. He says you are doing just fine.” “He says.. he’s never said anything to me!” she exclaimed with mock outrage. “And he never will. That is how you know you are doing fine. Wole is ...well just Wole. There are no absolutes, remember.” “He’s the most unusual Asharran I have ever met..” Zoe laughed. “Yes, and you’ve met so many... “ her sister added, only half kidding. “So this house ....” Zoe returned to the prior topic. “It belongs to the school. All of the crystal buildings belong to the Osharra. They allow me to live her and award me some bartering material . I sing for them. It is a balanced trade.” 273

R. Leigh “That’s great!” the child replied, now once more satisfied that her sister’s skills were being properly appreciated. It was only after receiving this insight that Zoe was able to more accurately observe her Asharran sister at her home and not imagine her to be something she was not. There were however, several instances where Zoe had repeatedly picked up or pointed to objects inside of the crystalline building, in an effort to determine their ownership. “That’s mine.” Theyna would sigh some of the time. However, a much larger number of occurrences were the reverse, with the older Asharran informing her sister that the item in question was owned by the Osharra. “Oh, so it basically came furnished, too? “ was Zoe’s observation. She looked around the comfortable light blue building. The walls were mostly opaque but here and there had some transparent sections enabling you to see outside and others to see in. There were still a nice variety of sculptures, and paintings and furniture in the house which obviously had been provided by the Asharrans to her sister. “Are you sure you can’t teach me to sing?” laughed Zoe, as she looked around the shimmering structure. “Maybe Wole will teach you how to grow one of these buildings some day.” Theyna replied. “Grow one?” “How else do you think crystals are made, silly nish.” Their conversation was suddenly interrupted when Lahsh appeared in the open doorway (since like all Asharran buildings, crystal or not, there was no door). “I have good news”, he announced. “It must be good for Wole to let you come here.” grinned Theyna, her shalas bouncing as she laughed. 274

The Winds of Asharra “Oh yes,” Lahsh replied. “It’s about the message crystal. It’s complete.” “That is wonderful” said Theyna. Zoe only smiled. Now that she was not involved with Victor or Torvik or whatever he was calling himself, it didn’t matter as much to her whether they discovered a way back to Earth. She was curious if this Yavaran character could tell them anything more about Asharra but that wasn’t the same pressing curiosity she had before. Spending even a few weeks on Asharra was enough for her to decide that she never wanted to leave. She’d eventually learn all about this world. It did not matter that much to her how much of that knowledge came all at once. In a way, that was a major change for her. Yet, in another it was not. The sisterly-link with Theyna had allowed her a much greater insight into Asharra than Victor had. She might not know the proper names for things or a lot of the little minor specific details, but she had hundreds of images and smells and sounds in her nish-mind. Even if she did not always completely think link a native-born Asharran, she felt like one. That was all that mattered. Elsewhere, Oppapalo awakened Torvik and Ionera with the good news. He had just returned from a meeting with Wole and was eager to inform the young couple that the message crystal had been completed and was sent along to its destination. Actually, it had been dropped in a large hole but Oppapalo wanted to reassure Torvik that all was going just fine. When he stepped inside the Ligasteelia, he was surprised to see the adolescents sitting on a pair of looshie cushions. Instead of fremming or at least kissing, it appeared that Ionera had been crying and that Torvik was attempting to comfort her. “What is empty?” Oppapalo said with concern, seeing his daughter. 275

R. Leigh “What do you make of these?” Torvik replied. He showed his other father the two dark spots on Ionera’s forehead. They were more pronounced now and according to her, were tender to the touch. Also, she informed her father that her ears, her Asharran feline ears on the top of her head were constantly itching. “Is it something like the flu? Is she sick?” Torvik asked. “I don’t know. “Oppapalo replied. “I have never seen anything like this before.” Ionera held Torvik close to her and looked up at him. She wasn’t worried but she was definitely nervous. It took a lot to worry the little Meeru and even this did not qualify. “I will ask the Oon if he knows.” Torvik said. “Why the Oon?” Ionera wondered, “he is not Asharran.” “Yes, but he has been on your planet for several hundred years. If anyone has heard of something similar, it would be him.” Torvik was more comfortable referring to the plant creature as a he, as a singular being but in reality the Oon was of course simultaneously male and female, a combined entity. “I will summon the healers.” Oppapalo said, attempting to reassure his daughter. “I don’t think the healers will know about this.” Ionera said cryptically, “and I am not certain about the Oon.” “What are you saying? What do you mean?” asked Torvik. “Something from my dreams.” Ionera sighed in his arms. Her naked body shuddered slightly as she snuggled closer to Torvik for comfort and security. Something inside her told her not to worry but could she believe that something? 276

The Winds of Asharra “We filled the doh-rah:, she told her father, attempting to change the subject, away from her physical condition. “That is wonderful.” Oppapalo replied. “Torvik can begin learning to use it now but the deepest task now is to see to your health.” “I will be fine and true.” she smiled meekly. “Everything will be alright” She turned to one side as she snuggled deeper into Torvik’s arms. Her father glanced at her bare back and was shocked at what he saw. He silently motioned for Torvik to look at his discovery. There on Ionera’s back were another set of two small red marks, tiny dots similar to the ones’ on her forehead. Neither Torvik nor his Other Father said anything for a moment but the discovery was clear on their faces. “What is empty?” Ionera exclaimed. “Tell me.” “Does your back hurt?” Torvik inquired, as he looked deeply into her amber eyes. “No, well, a little I suppose. I thought after the doh-rah charging it was only natural.” They informed her of the two tiny marks on her back and Ionera was silent but Ionera refused to allow herself to be concerned. The next several days were strange and surreal, as all parties waited for some anticipated word from Yavaran. Everything seemed normal on the surface but everyone knew that something was about to happen. It was like an undefinable itch you could not scratch. You just sensed that there was something in the air, something odd. This also extended to include the Oon and even Huff, the purple dreegin. Both beings were even more aware than any of the others that this was to be the proverbial calm before the storm. The Oon and the little dreegins possessed senses that were different than the Asharrans and virtually 277

R. Leigh all manner of Iramu, including beings from Earth. They took notice of the uneasy feelings around them and decided to take actions of their own. After reassuring Torvik that she was in no great physical pain and that she was not tired, dizzy or incoherent by any definition, Ionera finally managed to convince Torvik to begin training with the doh-rah. That was particularly difficult since he still had no idea what was the extent of the now charged instrument. He only recalled how the blade, before being re-formed had healed his leg and allowed him to understand dreegin speech. Naturally, possessing this shred of information, Torvik attempted to use the twin dreegin blades to cure whatever malady was affecting his mate. He waved the dreegin blades, pointed them at Ionera and concentrated as hard as he could but her strange marks and infrequent headaches and backaches did not disappear. In fact, the situation seemed to be growing slowly but steadily worse. “Why won’t it work!” he shouted to her, his voice tinged with anger. “Now, you are the sick one,” she warned. “There is no need for anger. Nothing is empty here.” He knew from her expression that she was attempting to say that nothing was wrong, but that appeared far from the truth. Had he somehow infected her? The strange symptoms did seem to begin after they had fremmed. Did he pass along some sort of interplanetary venereal disease to his mate? That would certainly explain why the local Asharran Elders had no idea what was happening. Yet, through it all she seemed calm and attempted to instruct him in the use of the doh-rah, a strange thing which still mystified him. She instructed him to hold the dreegin blades in has 278

The Winds of Asharra hands and to imagine them soaring through the air. His body was to follow them in an intricate dance or sorts. The steps were not static or immediately repetitive but the overall effect resembled Tai Chi or Kung Fu moves on Earth. Was this a martial arts tool or something more. Torvik attempted to mimic the moves but Ionera repeatedly told him to feel what was true, not to copy her moves. She was yisha. He was ya-sha . Energy flowed differently inside them. When each of them took a blade and danced and dueled with them together, the resulting moves begin to appear more complimentary rather than mirror images. “I think I am getting this.” Torvik said after a few days practice.” “Your feeling is emerging but it is still very young and unformed.” she replied kindly. Torvik took the advice and continued to practice with the doh-rah, both singularly when practicing with her, as well as when he held both in his hands. Slowly but surely, he was automatically forgetting that they were in his hands. He was ignoring any body movements he was making, rather than planning them or anticipating them. The teenager never considered himself a dancer or a master of any martial art but he regarded the use of the doh-rah as something in between. It was a type of exercise which made his sha flow, which caused his unique ya-sha to touch the Asha which surrounded them all. Still not completely convinced of its purpose but trusting his mate, Torvik continued to practice with the doh-rah, often for half the day at a time. Naturally, he took time out to enjoy tasty food and drink as well as the mutual pleasure of enjoying Ionera. Her odd condition did not deter them from fremming or playing in any way. If anything, they did so as if in defiance of it. Torvik secretly hoped that her symptoms were some sort of flu 279

R. Leigh and would simply fade and disappear in time. Her father, Oppapalo was a bit more worried and a few days earlier had set out to speak with the Oon. They anxiously awaited his return. By now, Wole, Theyna, Zoe and even the crystal apprentices were aware of Ionera’s condition, largely because of a visit which Torvik made to the shop, to ask if Theyna had any advice. He would leave no stone unturned. The next day, however, as evidence of her friendship to Torvik, she had sought out some supposedly learned friends and returned to the Ligasteelia to visit the couple, bearing compassion but no helpful advice. She did also carry words of condolence from Zoe, who preferred not to visit in person. At first this greatly irritated Torvik, both for his own sake and because of the apparent signal which he thought it was sending to Ionera. He was furious at Zoe for acting so petty. Finally, Ionera managed to convince him that Zoe was being helpful in her own way, shielding her negativity, her own ill feelings, and not exposing any additional sickness to Ionera. Torvik reluctantly agreed but still wished he could patch things up between the two nishs. Yet, his dox-mind, his inner tiger told him that it might never be possible. Certainly, it would take much more time. Even Wole, the brash giant steer managed to unexpectedly pay his respects one evening to Torvik and Ionera, presenting them with a beautifully carved statue of a pair of lovers, a statue meant to represent Torvik and Ionera themselves. They were quite moved by this gesture, which more than made up for Wole’s silence and stammering around them. He simply was not comfortable in certain social situations. Actually, there were very few social situations in which the large bull felt at home. The only ones that came 280

The Winds of Asharra to mind involved watching the public fremming in the Osharra Circle or observing more impromptu versions of the same, along the various paths inside the Osharra. He would actually compliment the couple’s on their technique and occasionally offer advice on improvements, a practice which Theyna was forcefully attempting to discourage. Wole was Wole no matter what and that was becoming a welcome thing for Ionera and Torvik. Still not accustomed to his gruff ways, they were glad for his presence in the Osharra. Another few days had passed without any major incident of any kind. Torvik and Ionera continued to practice the doh-rah, laugh together and fremm as true lovers do. This was only interrupted by some familiar voices at the perpetually open doorway. One belonged to Oppapalo. He had returned. Yet the other voice or actually voices was the most unexpected ones. In their heads, Torvik and Ionera heard the voice of the Oon. He had left his spot near the arch, lifted up his lower limbs, slowly gathered himself into a ball and rolled to their individual Ligasteelia. “We came immediately,” the Oon thought directly at them. Actually, it had been several days since Oppapalo had told him of Ionera’s condition. It merely took that long for the slow creature to wind himself up and roll to his destination. “Oon!” Torvik shouted, obviously thrilled to see him. The 18 year old hugged the giant tree and poured out his hidden thoughts. “We are aware of what has happened and how you feel.” the Oon telepathically spoke to Torvik in particular and everyone else around simultaneously. “I thought you were not allowed inside the Osharra.” Ionera said, attempting to change the conversation at direct 281

R. Leigh it away from herself. “Look at my center upper limb” the Oon directed. When the adolescents did, they noticed a small shoot of unknown origin attached to his limb. It appeared to be growing there but was a sandy brown, definitely not the bright green of the Oon. “the Dreegin, Huff is responsible for this.” the Oon thought at them, “He found your plant for you, the one to erase the last trace of warrior within you?” said Torvik. “No, but Huff called together many of his kind and they have been searching far and wide for this plantling, which we are told, is called Ut in your thoughts.” “It’s grafted to you then, a part of you?” Torvik asked. “Yes.” replied the Oon. “The sensation is strange. We are now Oon-Asharran and it is a rich and stable thought. Our roots have taken this addition well.” “That is why you weren’t stopped from entering.” Ionera finally interjected this into the conversation. “Yes.” “But why come all this way? “ she asked. “It is not necessary. I am not that ill.” “You are not ill at all.” the Oon reassured in their combined male and female stereo voice in their heads. “What is happening to you is totally natural.” “That’s what he keeps telling me.” Oppapalo interrupted the tree, “that we should not feel shallow. There is nothing empty in this.” “How do you know?” Torvik asked, a direct and simple question, not meant to insult or doubt. He simply wanted reassurance. “We have consulted experts on the matter.” the Oon replied cryptically. 282

The Winds of Asharra “You won’t get any more out of him than that”, said Oppapalo. “I have asked the Oon repeatedly. “And we have answered. Do not trouble yourselves.” Torvik assumed that the tree must have spoken with Roqueetalu. In all of the commotion, he was the one source of information which had not been consulted. It had originally crossed the Earth-Asharran’s minds to ask the little Elder but later he must have forgotten, perhaps put off by the Roqueetalu’s age or his equally strange answers. Still, it was reassuring that at least some positive word had finally arrived. That was something that Torvik had been hoping for, and he seized the news with a warm welcome. “We all thank you, Oon for this message but surely you still did not have to come all this way, though we are happy to see you.” said Torvik, “I’m sure that Oppapalo could have delivered the message.” “We have additional word for you and that is the reason why we came ourselves.” the tree thought at them. Ionera guessed the true reason for the Oon’s arrival and projected her suspicion at the tree. The Oon replied to her privately in the affirmative, causing her to suddenly begin to rapidly jump up and down. Her shalas and her round tezz repeatedly bounced up and down as she continued to jump into the air, a wild grin on her face, a crooked grin from ear to ear. “It’s Yavaran, The Oon have received an answer to our message crystal. Yavaran has sent us an answer.” “Finally.” Torvik sighed. “That is wonderful. “ Oppapalo added. “What is the message?” The Oon attempted to frantically move its three upper limbs in the air for dramatic effect as this was the way of his kind. Unfortunately, it was perceived by the two Meeru 283

R. Leigh present and Torvik as a faint almost ethereal tiny sway, hardly the wild effect the Oon was attempting to achieve. Still, even without such dramatic flare to punctuate his thoughts, the Oon suddenly made the impact of his presence known, No one heard a thing. No one felt anything, No one was the least bit moved, except for Ionera. “The Oon says the message is private. It is for only for me.” she announced in a small voice. “What?” Oppapalo exclaimed, stunned but not totally surprised that his mother would do this. He secretly wondered if Yavaran was going to only agree to see Ionera and he would never hear from his daughter again. “No, you misunderstand, “ the Oon thought at the older Asharran. “That is not correct,” “The Oon says that some of the details of the message are just for me but that Yavaran, my Second Mother, will meet with all four of us.” “Four?” asked Torvik, totally confused. “Four.” echoed the Oon. “Ionera was speaking of us. We are going with you because we still have questions for Yavaran as well.” “Wait a minute, “ Torvik stammered, “ I think I am missing something. We were supposed to be combining the messages together. Zoe and I wanted to learn about the history of Asharra, the mystery of the Asharra-dobar and about whether or not we could or .... should return to Earth.” “Yes” the Oon replied. “Ionera and Oppapalo obviously have their own concerns and issues with Yavaran.” he continued. “Yes” the Oon replied again. “But that adds up to five, not four.” said Torvik, still confused. 284

The Winds of Asharra Finally Ionera answered the question for the Oon. “Yavaran will not meet with Zoe. If you subtract her, the total is four, counting the Oon. It is just all of us in this room.” “Oh she is going to go ballistic when she hears that she is being excluded after all this.” said Torvik with a heavy sigh. “No, she won’t.” Ionera countered, very calmly. “She has already made up her minds to remain on Asharra. Her path now veers away from Earth. It is not necessary for her to meet Yavaran since she has already made her decision.” thought the Oon in a loud bellowing thought, “How would Yavaran know this?” asked Torvik. “It’s in the tone of the crystal message, my mate. “ Ionera replied. “Even without words, true intentions are encoded into the crystal. Her intentions became part of the message to my Second mother as clearly as anything else.” “She hadn’t even told me.” Torvik said. “Are you sure, Torvik? Are you really certain of that?” Ionera asked, taking his hand in hers. Torvik looked into his mate’s amber eyes and felt her love and sincerity. Zoe had chosen her path long before Torvik had decided to become Ioneras’s mate, even before he had even met her. Zoe had chosen her own path shortly after experiencing the first tastes of Asharra. “But she’ll still want to know...” “Anything she wishes to know can be told to her later.” Oppapalo interrupted the young Earth dox. If my mother, Yavaran, will not see her, then that is that. There is no need. The message also implied that nether Wole nor Theyna were directly invited as well. That was more understandable but somehow, Torvik had assumed that there ever-growing little group would confront Yavaran. His initial impression of 285

R. Leigh the meeting had now changed into something very different. It was now a family reunion of sorts, a weelu, just as Roqueetalu had predicted in his own unique way. Had the little 5 year old seen this or was it just a coincidence? It appeared that Yavaran was only allowing family members to meet with her, although there was the matter of the Oon. Torvik wondered if the rarity of the presence of the intelligent tree was enough to warrant granting him an exception, a private invitation to the weelu, to the family reunion. Perhaps, Yavaran had some questions for the Oon herself. Torvik abruptly turned toward his mate and asked the most obvious question. “Did Yavaran say anything specifically about meeting with me, especially since I am now really part of the family, your mate?” “Oh yes”, Ionera smiled, repeating a small portion of what the Oon had telepathically told her, minutes before. “My Second mother is especially anxious to meet you, Torvik. You and I are to arrive together or not at all.” He did not know whether to be flattered or just stunned at this response. The first part of it was positive. The last part was a bit strange, to say the least. “Fine. When can we meet her?” “We are to go to the Osharra Circle at mid Yi-time, when it is darkest.” “She’ll meet us there?” Oppapalo questioned as it did not seem his mother’s style. “ That is what we will discover.” thought the Oon. They all looked at each other and each wondered private thoughts at the possible outcome. “There is one small addition.” the Oon clarified, to everyone’s surprise. “Whether you count him or not, the dreegin called Huff is invited as well.” 286

The Winds of Asharra All of the non-plant members of the group were stunned by these final revelations of the Oon. While they were relieved that the message crystal had at least been somehow received and that Yavaran had indeed replied, the terms and conditions were troubling and strange. Torvik worried that he might learn something that would indicate that he had to return to Earth. Could he just leave Ionera, especially now? No, that would be unthinkable. But what if he did not have a choice? It would be better to learn that now, and not later. Still, if he never met with Yavaran and never bothered to even ask these questions, he could easily stay on Asharra without any complications. “ The Oon telepathically read Torvik’s mind but said nothing. The Earth-Asharran would learn his path soon enough and make the choices that would be the truest. Ionera was happiest of all at the prospect of finally meeting Yavaran. She had never seen her Second Mother but had heard since she was a child, that Yavaran was wise in every way. The fact that she lived alone and obviously was eccentric even by Asharran standards appealed to Ionera. In a way, it was because it was similar to herself. Ionera was clearly an Asharran but one who pushed the limits of that definition from time to time. She had a loneliness and a sadness growing up, to which few Asharrans could relate. This was due in part to the accidental death of her twin sister when she was four (since all Asharrans were born in batches of two, three or four). Growing up without siblings was rare and the particular difficulties which might arise were not clearly understood by enough Asharran parents. Added to this situation was the fact that her mother had disappeared early in her young life, making at least half of her life even more incomplete, living with only her fa287

R. Leigh ther, Oppapalo. She had grown as melancholy and moody as an Asharran could and still remain true. The winds of Asharra carried her along regardless, but her happy times were not as constant as the other adolescents. Her great love for animals of any sort, even including friznaggles, were a perfect outlet for joy and tenderness, and an opportunity to be herself, someone which she was frequently not comfortable sharing. Even in a world of no absolutes, she was on one end of the continuum, never offering or accepting even a basic friendship Doing. She rarely touched any of the Asharran adolescents at school. There were only a few Asharran nishs or doxs who had been fortunate enough to receive a warm hug from her. Unfortunately, those either moved away to distant Osharras or somehow became disconnected from her when she refused even a basic friendship Doing. Ionera was complicated and it disturbed some of those who would otherwise have been her friends. Torvik was for her, warmer and brighter than Ya, the greater Asharran Sun. The great mystical energy, the Asha, surged through both of the solar orbs in the sky but pulsed even more strongly in Ya. To Ionera, her Torvik was the embodiment of that primal energy, the Ya-sha. He brought out the best in her and helped to dispel her inner doubts and insecurities. Luckily, he was not aware of the extent of either. Though they had shared much while charging the dohrah, she was certain he was not completely aware how lost she was without him. She was like Yi, the lesser sun in the sky whose light was dim compared to its mate. She was complete in herself but happiest basking in his light and sharing it. Like all Asharrans who believe in the mystical energy, the Asha, that flowed through every living thing, she allowed herself to be carried along by fate, Kokayniah. 288

The Winds of Asharra The winds gently pushed her along the path but she never had experienced the extra spring in her step until she had met Torvik. Ionera hoped that meeting with her Second Mother, Yavaran, would be transformational for her. She sought to rid herself of as much that was shallow or insecure. So few Asharrans were insecure for no apparent reason, what on Earth was considered stress, that there was hardly a term for it. Ionera recalled how her father struggled to even describe his opinion of her occasional dark moods. At last he remembered a term which Yavaran had mentioned in reference to her own childhood. She had been called hollow. She was deep and not empty. Yet, she was not completely full of the life-giving joy-inspiring sha energy. Her own personal yi-sha was being muted by something. She was frequently just a pace out of step with other Asharrans. Apparently, the same had been true for her Second Mother. If Yavaran had been similar to her, perhaps she could assist her in ridding the dark shadow which occasionally dampened her spirits. Ionera was never happier than when she was with Torvik, but she was secretly afraid that the presence of her dark shadow would ultimately make her less appealing to him and that possibility, completely unAsharran in every way, saddened and terrified her. “If Yavaran had been made whole, so could I” she hoped with all of her being. Inside she was as true and vibrant as an Asharran. Her quirky nature could be helpful and part of her unique yi-sha if she eliminated any trace of the infrequent shadow over it. What was the cause of the shadow? She did not know. All that was clear was that Ionera, even when doing things the Asharran way, managed often to go too far. She could have settled the situation with Zoe in a number of 289

R. Leigh different ways instead of fremming Torvik on the spot in front of her. She could have done the most Asharran thing, something that Theyna would have done no doubt, to speak passionately and truly to Zoe. This would not have been some cold intellectual exercise or some weak emotional plea for empathy. It would have been filled with as much passion as Zoe’s words were filled with anger. One would have extinguished the other and the matter would have been over. Yes, that would have been how almost all Asharrans would have handled the situation, but not Ionera. She would often take unnecessary risks. An Asharran never instigates a situation which could escalate any violence. Living without competition or greed, it would be unthinkable and unnecessary By fremming Torvik in front of Zoe at that moment, she was proving her point, establishing the reality of the relationship and his free choice, but she was doing it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. It also risked increasing Zoe’s anger. Zoe could have retaliated, even doing physical violence. It could have sent her over the edge and made matters worse. Luckily, it did not. Ionera had done the right thing, but in a most un-Asharran way, a way that puzzled and even worried other Asharrans, and worry was a rare thing on the planet. She was not seen as ill, which by Asharran terms might be definitions of vengeful, envious, perpetually angry or petty. She was just barely within normal Asharran definitions of health. Most did not even remember the term for such infrequent strange outbursts. Even if not formally diagnosed as this, Ionera wanted to be rid of it. She did not want to be hollow. If Yavaran had been like her, perhaps she was the key for Ionera to change herself for the better. For his part, the Oon silently scanned thoughts of those 290

The Winds of Asharra present and struggled not to interfere in any way. “Young saplings must all learn to bend toward the sun.” the Oon reminded themselves. “We will do all we can to remind them of its direction but ultimately, the choice to grow and thrive must be theirs alone.” Unknown to the rest of the group, the Oon had their own difficult decision to make. The giant plant creature sought Yavaran’s advice on this matter and hoped the meeting would be productive in a very different way. It was still several Asharran hours before mid Yi-time, the darkest time. Still, given the glacially slow pace of the Oon, it was clear that the creature should begin slowly rolling through the paths of the Osharra toward the Circle ,and begin as quickly as possible. The Oon telepathically reminded the group of this, and Oppapalo volunteered to slowly walk along with him to show him the way and provide a respectful support towards the intelligent tree. Ionera’s father was genuinely grateful to the Oon for somehow receiving and relating the message to them. He would have to speak more of this to the Oon on the way to the Osharra Circle. “You two should practice the doh-rah. Bring it with you tonight.” “But Torvik is still not accustomed to using it.” Ionera exclaimed. “No matter. He will be ready enough. The path in front of us is the path.” said her father, quoting some old saying taught to him in his youth by Yavaran. “Carried warmly by the wind.” smiled, Ionera, completing the ancient poem. She kissed him on his forehead, becoming quite fond of this Earth custom in any form. Oppapalo grinned warmly at his daughter, never having received a kiss of any kind be291

R. Leigh fore. He would have to remember and repeat the custom. “We do it mouth to mouth.” she explained to her father as she gestured to Torvik. “And we think we Asharrans are so wise.” he chuckled, knowing full well that it was the height of Asharran wisdom to be able to reverse places, being student and teacher many times in their lives. He was obviously being especially polite with Torvik and going out of his way to show him mutual respect. “No matter how many rest breaks it takes,” Oppapalo laughed, referring to the Oons glacially slow speed, “I will escort our friend here to the Circle.” “As you are always”, said Ionera, the closest thing to a thank you in the Asharran tongue. “We may require a push from time to time.” the Oon thought at Oppapalo as it slowly began to curl its upper and lower limbs into a large ball, in preparation for rolling. “Then push you I will.” And with that, the older Asharran and the tree left the orange Ligasteelia and ever so slowly disappeared from sight. Torvik stepped over towards the doh-rah, which sat on its jet black stand on a nearby circular table. He thought of the great fantasy and medieval stories he had read on Earth and imagined himself preparing for a great battle. He was at least preparing for the unknown. “Should I name the doh-rah something?” “Name it?” Ionera asked. “In some stories I read, they would name their weapons, fierce and mighty names like thunderer or battlesmasher.” “You’re being serious,” Ionera smirked at him. “Totally.” “The doh-rah is not a weapon.” 292

The Winds of Asharra “I know that.” “You still want to name it.” “Well ..” Torvik said in a quiet tone of voice that betrayed his preference. Ionera struggled to suppress a giggle. “Just don’t name it Zoe.” she said, raising her eyebrows for effect. Torvik laughed and kissed her passionately. “I wouldn’t think of it.” “And you wouldn’t name it that if you had.” she echoed. The young Earth-Asharran turned his attention back to the doh-rah. It looked nothing like the sword shape when he had first observed it, pointed directly at him by Oppapalo. “Red Fire.” he finally said, in a firm but soft voice.” It won’t be a name, but to distinguish it from any other dohrah, I’d like to call it Red Fire.” “A fine name.” Ionera chuckled with a mock serious look, indulging Torvik’s ya-sha. She had attempted to make her voice even deeper, mimicking her image of some Earth hero or warrior. She was being playful but at the same time, she knew this was important to Torvik. She silently studied the look on his face as he held the twin blades of the doh-rah, the Red Fire, in his hands. He was not yet anywhere near fully mature. Ionera had no idea how broad his chest might become or if he would even get any muscles. It did not matter to her. She would love him at every stage and each one would be perfect. No matter how he would change, no matter what his mood, he would always be as she saw him now, ever true, never empty. He was her home. She was reluctant to express the depth of her feelings to 293

R. Leigh him. From his perspective, she already had and did so very frequently. Still, his perspective was more Earth-like than Asharran, although he was progressively changing that daily. Ionera saw any imperfection, foible or personality quirk in Torvik as either so minor as not to notice or a tiny speck, which gave his appearance extra charm. She either looked past them or incorporated them into her image of him. This was the Asharran way. In time, Torvik would fully understand. Although she knew that her own personality was multi-faceted, especially by Asharran standards, she viewed Torvik’s as even more complex. This could have been partially because he had come from Earth, an obviously very ill world. He had to develop many modes of mental and emotional defense against the illnesses of Earth, the hatreds, the fears and the worries. Torvik had compartmentalized himself, fragmented himself into dozens of little pieces. Each one was unique but each one also held a complete image of him, a process very similar to a few of the crystals on Asharra. She was learning to recognize these Torvik-lets as the scientist, the adventurer, the playful child and the vulnerable one, just to name a few. They were all Torvik. On Asharra, with far less strains to one’s existence, what Torvik had called stress, the head-mind and the nish or dox minds usually worked in better harmony. Ionera herself was the exception, since she sometimes cast a dark shadow over both of her minds. While she observed Torvik being upset or even worried because of her (and her present strange condition) she never saw a dark shadow over him. He always recovered and reappeared to light her way, like the Ya, the larger sun of Asharra always met its mate, Yi and bathed it in its stronger warmth. No, he was not fully aware of how 294

The Winds of Asharra she saw him, infinitely complex and yet always Torvik. It was something she hoped to continually discover. It was something she hoped would last a lifetime. “How is this?” he asked her, as he twirled the Red Fire dreegin blades in his hands, shifting his weight and twirling his arms around. She knew that It was far more graceful than he would have thought but decided not to describe her impression in too much detail to him. She did not want to alter his self image even for the better. Ionera preferred to watch him as he was. That was a silent pleasure of hers, something which, after years of only seeing him in her dreams was a now a real and perfect pleasure. “Magnificent.” she laughed, only half-kidding. “As you are always,” he grinned, picking up on the Asharran form of the phrase, thank you, and even managing to transform it into a compliment for her. “How many doh-rahs are there?” he said, recalling an earlier attempt to ask the question, which had somehow gotten side tracked. “Not many. The crystals are very rare and are usually only found by Meeru.” “Really? “ he said as he rapidly twirled the Red Fire, “Why is that?” She shrugged and made a childish face. “Maybe we look harder for them. Maybe the crystals only pop out of the ground for us.” Torvik continued to improvise an elaborate routine, somewhat reminiscent of Earth Tai Chi but with some of his own moves. “So how many is not many?” “You still want to speak of this?” she laughed. “Maybe I am afraid some other doh-rah wielding hero 295

R. Leigh will steal you away”, he grinned in a foolish way. “Silly dox.” She threw a soft looshi cushion at him from across the room, teasing at him for such a ridiculous remark. Ionera was bonded to Torvik for life. Whether she would grow or change or even become ill and unacceptable, she was his mate. She caught herself, sensing her smile was fading on her face. “I will not be hollow,” she thought to herself. “I can not fail if I do not give up. I can chase any shadows away even it is only the lesser sun that is in the sky.” Torvik noticed a flash of soft sadness in her and was troubled. He had seen it a few times before but said nothing. No, that wasn’t entirely true. Once he held her especially close, stroking her short brown hair. Another time, he had paused an extra moment or two, catching her eyes and causing her to smile. He wondered what inner pains and scars, real or imagined, that she carried. It tore him up inside that she had any scars at all but it was even worse for him to know that she was silently fighting them. Torvik had wondered if the price Ionera paid for her quirky nature was this occasional moment of darkness. She was his gothic pixie, a paradox and a dark sun. He knew that songs in a minor key would often sound even more sweet. Yet, he also was aware that if taken to excess, this sweet and tender pain she bore could poison her as easily as any venom. He wondered if this drop of darkness in her was worth its price but then, comparing Ionera to Theyna or even Zoe, he concluded that the answer had to be yes. She would always remain his brown haired gothic pixie, but he swore to himself, that no matter how long it took, he would entice his princess to fly into the sunshine and stay away from the shadows. Even though he was not yet an 296

The Winds of Asharra adult, at least as considered on Earth, Torvik felt that he understood Ionera on some primal way. It was a paradox. She was the most un-Asharran Asharran he had yet encountered and therefore should be the one least perfect, since the Asharrans seemed so effortlessly serene. Yet. Ionera was, at least in Torvik’s eyes, capable of the most complete balance of all. She walked the thin line, separating the light and the dark places, pulled into both worlds. neither here nor there. He was sure that when she eventually felt completely centered, she would not only be as alluring and attractive to him as she was now ... she would be wise in a way very different than the others. Hers would be the wisdom of experience rather than respectful theory. She would always be his gothic pixie and it was his job to remind her of the warmth of the sun. Instead of passionately fremming, the bonded couple decided to spend the remaining time before they had to depart for the Osharra circle, wrapped in each others arms, lying amid the looshi cushions. Their perpetually nude bodies blended together in a soft embrace where words were neither necessary nor desired. It was the exact opposite of their earlier experience where they had talked for hours, pouring out their inner most thoughts. Now, that was not desired by either of them. At this moment, the silence, the perfect stillness and the warmth of their nude bodies connected them as deeply as any shared words or spoken feelings. Once or twice, they looked into each others eyes, but more often did not even do this. They closed their eyes or half closed them as they rested together. It was the calm before the storm. Torvik had replaced the doh-rah blades, the Red Fire, onto their stand before they had chosen a long lingering silent embrace. Now, unknown to either of the nude adoles297

R. Leigh cents, the crimson blades of the doh-rah once again pulsed, this time without a sound. There were many ways to charge the Red Fire, ways which even the Meeru did not know. There were many uses for the doh-rah, only known to a few Asharrans and beings whom they could not yet imagine. Arguments between couples and friends occurred less frequently on Asharra than on Earth. This was partially due to the fact that Asharrans were intrinsically more honest and true than their counterparts on Earth. The friendships and bondings that formed had a higher chance of continuing because they were more genuine and true right from the start. Still, misunderstandings were a natural part of life, even on Asharra. For most native born Asharrans, they passed without serious incident. However, when other types of Asharrans were involved, the situation could get a trifle more complicated. “I can’t believe you said that.” Theyna said to Wole, obviously hurt and clearly upset. “What?” he bellowed, “this is not your way.” “You are going to tell me what is my way?” “No” he said in a reluctant and quiet voice. “As you are always”, she said, thanking him. “But your words are still shallow.” “Wole!” she cried, “Sometimes you act like such a ....” The giant Loak snorted loudly. He was expecting such a remark and he braced his entire body for it. Being well, huge, and a bull, had meant a constant stream of stares growing up on Asharra. Due to the nature of Asharran culture, none of the adolescents surrounding him during his early years were cruel. Naturally, none ever picked a fight with him, much to his displeasure. They didn’t for two simple reasons. First, the Asharrans did not believe in vio298

The Winds of Asharra lence, and almost never fought, only defending themselves in the rarest of situations. Second, Wole, at any age was almost a third larger than they were. It bothered Wole. He knew his appearance intimidated many of them. It even frightened some Asharrans who did not know him. The fact that he made some Asharrans uncomfortable and that he had a sort of natural gruff exterior made the large bull sensitive underneath his massive tough hide. He almost wished he could strike back and even strike first, if it meant that he could stop the cycle of the stares or the very subtle way someone might move away from him. Luckily, his work as a tiira-lu or crystal artist was well known in the Osharra and his long delicate fingers were prized almost as much as the custom crystals he grew and shaped. It was only the occasional glance he now received from a passing Asharran which might evoke an angry grunt or snort on his part. Yet, when he was a child and his inner talent for the crystals had not yet been evident, he had no accomplishment to make him seem less threatening to the other adolescents. He was just a big gruff bull. Now, when Theyna uttered those words, the words he knew was coming, calling him some sort of beast or animal or big thing, he knew it would hurt. It made him angry and more than that, in a very tiny hidden part of Wole, it made him deeply sad. “You are such a ... “ she started again. “Yes?” he snorted loudly. “Friznaggle.” The giant bull opened his great mouth ready to shout but instead only bellowed with laughter, He had never been compared to a small green furry creature which scurries around on the ground at yi-time ingesting dreegin zim. The comparison was ridiculous. 299

R. Leigh “A Friznaggle?” Theyna smiled at him with a warm smirk. “Oh no, not just any friznaggle, a really small one that walks with a limp in all six of its legs.” “And why is that?” the Loak demanded. “It moves around a lot but doesn’t go anywhere.” He again roared with laughter. It was Theyna’s way of disarming him, even though she was upset at his comments regarding his present living arrangements. Even when Theyna acted clearly upset, which was not too common for an Asharran, she did it with style and humor and not a trace of malice. “You can not expect me to move into ....” “The Pit” Wole said, lovingly calling his home by the nickname he had created. “Yes, the Pit”, she smiled. “You can stay with me. You said you liked the blue crystal of my own private osharra.” “I was admiring the workmanship,” Wole corrected. “Wole ..” she said, not needing to finish her sentence. “I will think about it.” he snorted, not at all happy at the prospect. The great bull was not conceding the subject. He was only delaying the conversation until the next round. He had to prepare some very convincing argument for Theyna. If that didn’t work, he would rely on the inherent charm of his personality. Perhaps, if that still failed he could fall back on the usual solution. He would sulk and break a few small objects. Only after that, would he consider a surrender. His love for Theyna was that great. “You know what happens to me when I visit that place.” Theyna remarked, a conflicted pained look on her face.” “but you said you enjoyed it.” he protested. 300

The Winds of Asharra “I could not sit down for 6 ya-cycles” she exclaimed. “You seemed to enjoy it at the time.” Wole snorted loudly, an obviously large smirk on his face. Theyna rubbed her nish, recalling the stretched muscles and the resulting soreness she had felt. The bull was quite correct. It had been worth it but that was not the point. There was something about his living quarters, which her mate-to-be had dubbed “The Pit.” Perhaps it was the overwhelming sense of primal ya-sha energy with which the giant bull filled his private osharra. Perhaps it was the sloppy, even earthy way he decorated the place. Sure, there were a few nice crystals of Asharran couples, natural and nude, fremming in every position imaginable (and Theyna could imagine quite a few). No, the real reason was the smell. It was his smell. Every inch of Wole’s tiny adobe osharra smelled of him. It literally reeked of his sweat and his inner essence. If Torvik, being a fellow dox, and having come from Earth had ever visited The Pit, he would have said that it smelled like roasted sweat combined with month old sneakers. To Theyna, however, the potent aroma was irresistible. Moments upon entering The Pit, the muscles between her legs begin to twitch and she had an uncontrollable urge to squat or present her nish and tezz to Wole, spreading each as widely as she could. She recalled the first time she had entered, shocked with the immediate sensations. Theyna had struggled to explain the effect to Wole, but no matter how she had tried, the only words that came out of her mouth were variations on the phrase “fremm me now.” He of course was more than happy to oblige. It was that way until she finally collapsed, soaked with sweat and covered with his cum and saliva. She had slept for two complete yi-cycles afterwards and soon after had eaten half the contents of his food in storage, some301

R. Leigh thing which admittedly amused the great bull. As much as she enjoyed visiting The Pit, Theyna was convinced that she could not move in there. Wole had informed her that some number of nishs he knew had seen the place but none had reacted in any way similar to Theyna. It was something about his smell, his yasha, and how she automatically reacted to it, something powerful and primal. She wondered if the larger size of her crystal apartment (so say nothing of a little regular cleaning) might at least reduce the smell and the resulting effect to a manageable level. She couldn’t live at the Pit, and only be awake one cycle in three. Her nish also could not take it, although she slyly wondered how long it could endure. “I don’t need the Pit to find you attractive.” she smiled to Wole, brushing her fingers across his broad chest until he lifted his right arm, allowing her to smell his armpit. Her legs became weak and she spasmed slightly. The effect was the Pit in miniature. Wole chuckled, grabbing her small wrists with each of his hands, and simultaneously raising both of her arms. Since no Asharran washed regularly except for the frequent rain showers and few of them removed the hair under their arms, Theyna’s own scent was strong and musky. Wole Inhaled deeply, loudly sucking up the fragrant air under her delicate armpits. He grunted contentedly and snorted, in preparation of another deep delicious drink of the smell through his nose. “Zoe says that on Earth, nishs wash here and even cover up their natural scent with the smell of flowers.” “Silly nish.” Wole laughed deeply. “Let flowers smell like flowers. Nothing could improve on this.” Theyna smiled lovingly and hugged the blue-black hulk as tightly as she could. He chuckled softly at her meager attempt, barely noticing her arms close around him. They did 302

The Winds of Asharra not even go completely around. He was too broad for that. except at his waist. She found him surprisingly tender and possessing a complicated sense of humor which was comforting and disarming in its own particular way. “I’m going to go back to the Pit now.” he said, a gruff but sad tone in his voice. “Zoe could always sleep in the other room.” “If I decided to stay, Zoe would not be preventing it, “he replied, “She would sleep on the floor or even with us, if it were necessary.” The Loak was of course, only saying that nothing would deter him from fremming Theyna, and Zoe’s physical location would not matter in the slightest. He was not suggesting that the three of them pleasure each other simultaneously. The practice was not prohibited in Asharran culture although it was usually done by a much smaller percentage of the population and then usually by Asharrans who were not bonded. Still, the idea intrigued her, and she decided to store it away for future reference, perhaps as a surprise present for Wole to celebrate the anniversary of his birth. “You smile strangely,” he said to her, noticing the odd smirk on her face. “Any smile is never strange”, she corrected him. He squeezed her tightly a last time and then abruptly spun around and headed toward the empty doorway. “I will see you in the shop in the ya-time.” “I’ll be there early so we can fremm when before it opens.” she promised. “The shop will open whenever we are done.” he laughed a hearty laugh, as he walked out the door. “Ever True.” Theyna smiled to herself, smelling the lingering trace of the bull in the air. 303

R. Leigh “Did I miss anything?” Zoe announced, bouncing into the room, wearing nothing but a mischievous smile. “No, little sister. “Drat” she giggled. “Next time come a little earlier and you can watch us fremm.” Zoe laughed, knowing that Theyna was not kidding. She was happy and proud of her relationship with Wole. It had literally come out of nowhere and she cherished it above all. Her deep friendships and even a couple of prebondings had been wonderful but could not compare with the gruff humor and sincerity she saw in Wole’s deep black eyes. While attempting to instruct her pseudo-Earth sister in the ways of Asharran culture, she had inadvertently taught her the most important lesson. When Theyna trusted her nish-mind and decided to pre-bond with Wole after practically just meeting him, she was showing the lack of absolutes and the Uatu, the action without Effort. She was allowing herself to be carried along by the Asharran breezes and trusting it to be true. Zoe thought for a moment and smiled a wicked childlike smile. “And you guys would have enjoyed fremming in front of me?” “I’m sure Wole would have enjoyed putting on a performance for you. He likes to roar and snort at all of the key moments.” Theyna chuckled. “I know.. that part I could hear from the other room.” “Yes, I forgot.” smiled Theyna, “and we’d have been more than happy to demonstrate any positions for you.” Zoe returned the smile, adding a slightly awkward gulp. On Earth, she would have been sent to her room, here there were live demonstrations on request. 304

The Winds of Asharra “You and Lahsh could share the room with us.” Theyna added, a gleam in her eye. Zoe dramatically placed her hands on her hips in protest. She was not aware her actions toward the Asharran apprentice were so obvious. She did not wish to appear to be on the rebound from Victor and that is why she had not touched Lahsh in any way except for a few exploratory kisses. “Maybe I have not decided on Lahsh yet.” she chirped, like some defiant nude sprite. “Fine, maybe Wole would allow you to join in with us.” Theyna giggled, knowing that the joke, if it was a joke, might shock Zoe. “Right.” the 18 year old laughed a nervous laugh. She looked around the empty room and finally gazed out of the window opening, in an attempt to silently change the subject and said nothing more of this. Theyna looked at the strained position that Zoe had placed her body. Her usually pretty nude back, legs and tezz seemed wracked with tension. “You still think of Torvik.” she said to her sister. “Yes.” came the simple almost silent reply. “Can I do a deep friendship Doing with him, just to let him know that I am here if things with Ionera do not work out?” Zoe inquired, turning to face her older sister. Theyna slowly stepped forward and brushed Zoe’s still purple hair from her face. “Of course, “ she replied, “but perhaps now is not the time for that. They have just bonded.” Zoe thought about it for a moment. “A honeymoon, right. I had not thought of that. I wouldn’t want to be tacky.” “Tacky?” Theyna asked. 305

R. Leigh “Shallow.” translated Zoe. Her sister smiled approvingly. “Perhaps later it will not matter to you. Perhaps your feelings for Lahsh will be clearer by then.” Elsewhere Oppapalo was having increased difficulty assisting the Oon in his slow and steady roll towards the Osharra Circle. A portion of the path towards their destination was downhill but unfortunately, that was the exception. Luckily, the uphill segments had been infrequent and brief but certainly were problem enough that the elder Asharran was uncertain if he could continue much further. Oppapalo was healthy and even on the muscular side, but a tree is still a tree. Regardless of the Oon’s planet of origin, the creature was incredibly heavy, even when rolled into a ball. The fact that the tree could attempt to slowly propel itself at all via the six limb like branches, three at the top and three at the bottom was incredible. However, it still seemed incredibly difficult to imagine any sort of movement on Shellibak, the Oon’s home world, that was not so slow as to seem almost standing still. From the Oon’s perspective, they were racing along to the Osharra Circle. However, that perspective was not shared. Oppapalo was rapidly becoming weaker and faltering in his effort to help push the rolled up tree along the curvy paths. In fact, the curves were almost as bad as the inclined spots for the Asharran. Pushing such a great weight was hard enough, but attempting to navigate a turn, even a wider one, was laboriously slow and unstable. Several times, he nearly pushed the great tree in the wrong direction, while attempting to gently turn him around. “This is going much faster than we could have imagined.” thought the Oon at Oppapalo. “Your assistance is much appreciated.” 306

The Winds of Asharra Even with a several hour head start, Oppapalo was worried that they would not reach the Circle in time, at mid Yitime, when it was darkest, a dim twilight on Asharra, the world with two suns. Only a few confused and terrified friznaggles noticed the odd sight of the Asharran attempting to roll the giant now-round tree along the path. Not possessing the power of speech, the friznaggles could neither shout in surprise nor even in fear, though many were frightened beyond their tiny wits, that they would be flattened under the weight of the huge rolling plant ball. They beeped in horror and rapidly scurried away, all six legs flailing about in a jumbled mess, in the way that friznaggles usually moved when terrified. It was only the random sound of a crazed beep here or there along the path that broke the silence of the eerie march toward the Circle. The friznaggles, only out in force for their nightly search for dreegin zim, had never seen anything like this in their lives. The fuzzy green tufts of fluff even abandoned some enticing bits of fresh dreegin zim that were located too close to the slowly rolling tree, in fear of their own certain death. They beeped like crazed Earth motorists and swerved wildly to avoid instant annihilation. Oppapalo gazed at the landscape ahead. It had been several hours and at last the Osharra Circle was in sight. Yet, the Asharran was sad and dejected. He let out a pitiful sigh of defeat as he looked ahead and remembered the orientation of the seating, located around the giant circle. The area around the circle, including the immediate space where the seating was located, was up a steep incline from the rest of the space. It appeared gradual at first., in an almost deceptive way, but there was no escaping it. The ground had been reshaped to slope upwards, to provide 307

R. Leigh tiered seating for the spectators of the Doings. Within the circle, it dropped off dramatically, in the area with the eight smaller circles and the Aquarius symbol in the center. Going from the seating to the actual Doing platform, the circular stage of sorts, would be a relief. It was all down hill. Getting there would be next to impossible. The slope of the ground leading to the spectators seats was simply too great and too long an upward slope. The Asharran felt dejected and frustrated and his uncharacteristic stress instantly flashed across his minds. This was immediately picked up by the telepathic Oon. The creature, so enjoying the blindingly fast rush through the town (by the Oon’s perspective at least), had not realized how taxing it had been for his Asharran friend until now. The Oon had temporarily forgotten the normal pace of the non-plants, which buzzed around the landscape as their sounds chittered deep in its trunk and roots. “There may be another way.” the Asharran said to the tree, “Wait here.” “We are experts at waiting.” the Oon reassured him as he came to a halt and slowly began to unfurl his limbs, placing the bottom three into the soft red Asharran soil. The distance to Oppapalo’s destination was not overly significant, but in the Asharran’s present weakened state, it might be almost more than he could manage. Mustering up any last bit of strength, the muscular Asharran dox, dashed away from the great green tree. His nude body glistening with sweat, twinkled in the dim light from Yi, the lesser sun. He had to reach his destination and return to the Oon in time. He was not aware that he would not reach that place and why it would not be necessary. In another part of Osharra-kibur, Ionera was equally amazed at the presence of her mate. The two of them had 308

The Winds of Asharra drifted off not to sleep, but to a hazy realm in between consciousness and its lack. Knowing that they would soon have to depart the Ligasteelia for the Osharra Circle, they were careful not to completely fall asleep. Asharrans tended to sleep and rise in natural rhythms, rarely oversleeping past any generic time frame in which they wanted to awake. In this way, Ionera was only napping, having told herself to automatically wake in enough time to eat a small snack and zee, before she and Torvik would depart for the Osharra Circle. However, it was therefore clearly surprising for her to learn that she had awakened much earlier than she had anticipated. The reason was a jarring sharp pain in her head. This was something no other Asharran had ever experienced before. The sudden flash of sharp localized pain coming from her head suddenly jolted her in consciousness, even as Torvik still was sleeping, curling his naked body up behind hers. Unlike conditions on Earth, headaches were so rare on Asharra as not to have a term for the condition. There were no migraines and certainly no tension headaches due to stress or worry. There was, however, whatever was happening to Ionera. The nude brown-haired Asharran woke and noticed that her neck and shalas were covered in sweat. Normally, that would be wonderful, a sign of her pleasure and something which her new mate would either enjoy by rubbing into her body or lovingly lapping up with his tongue. However, this situation did not appear normal to Ionera in any way. Her head was still sore but the sudden sharp pain had vanished, as quickly as it had arisen, mystifying her. Without making a sound, she untangled her nude body from Torvik’s, lifting his arm, enabling her to stand. Careful not to wake him, she 309

R. Leigh cast an adoring glance at his equally naked form, still sound asleep. His subtle muscles, a mark of both his youth and body type, enthralled her and the sound of his breathing soothed her at this moment. Still, she relentlessly pressed on, rising from the looshi cushions and moving across the room to the other larger one, where there was a crystalline polished mirror stone on the wall. Her bare feet expertly crossed the distance of the dirt floor, making gentle lines where her toes softly pressed into the ground, ultimately leaving perfect impressions of her as she passed. This contrasted with the unexpected noise which escaped from her mouth when she arrived at her destination and gazed into the mirror. Torvik immediately bolted from the looshie cushions in the adjoining room, startled not only by the volume of the sound but by the pure recognizable animal terror. “Ionera! “ he shouted, as he scrambled to stand, frantically searching for her as he struggled to shake off the last vestiges of sleep from his minds. “Here.” she whimpered from the next room, making no other reply. Torvik ran to the adjoining room, which approximated a combined living and dining area and found his mate standing with her back towards him, apparently staring into the mirror stone. Her long lanky body was as captivating as always. Being perpetually nude, something now not only greatly appreciated by the teenager, but something wholly expected, was a relief to behold. At first, the sight of her naked body was reassuring and made his dox momentarily stir. The contrast between her short brown hair, her shoulders, back, long legs and appealingly round 18 year old tezz, was magnificent. She was pure yi-sha, appealing in 310

The Winds of Asharra every way. Although only a moment passed, Torvik studied her curves and drank in her natural smell, evident even across the room. It had not rained for several days and Ionera stunk of her own natural perfume. The primal smell, combined with the image of her round tezz, caused Torvik’s dox to further stiffen, despite any lingering concern at this point. She was clearly standing unhurt, as beautiful as ever. What could be wrong? “Is everything ok?” he asked, after actually admiring her nakedness for only a moment or two. “I feel better now.” she said, an odd trace of concern in her voice. “That’s good.” “There’s something else.” she added. “What?” Ionera slowly turned around, surprising Torvik as she held her arms over her face, partially obscuring it. “Ionera?” he asked, not needing to finish his question, as his concern was clear. His dox rapidly had returned to an unexcited state as thoughts of worry entered both of Torvik’s minds. “My head hurt. It woke me up.” she began, still covering herself. “but you said it doesn’t hurt any more...” Torvik repeated, trying to reassure both of them. “Yes...it doesn’t hurt.” Ionera smiled a sad conflicted smile and slowly lowered her arms, uncovering her face from the cover of her outstretched hands. The two small red marks on her forehead were gone. Replacing them now were two tiny silver horns, which were clearly protruding from her forehead. They had just burst through her skin, like a child cutting a tooth at any early age. 311

R. Leigh “Ionera..” Torvik gasped. “I know.” “Do they hurt? Are you all right?” he asked, stepping towards her. She stiffened her body for a split second, entertaining the possibility of stepping away, uncertain of his reaction. No, that was not her nish-mind speaking. Ionera decided otherwise and instead walked closer to her young mate. “Is this what happens to Meeru?” he asked. “I have never seen this happen to anyone on Asharra.” she replied. “What do you think of them?” She gave him a hesitant glance, only looking in his eyes for a fraction of a moment before ultimately glancing downward toward her toes and the dirt floor. “You look beautiful...” Torvik attempted to reassure her. “Your horns look beautiful.” Ionera beamed with joy, involuntarily grinning from cheek to cheek and laughing small silly laughs. “You are certain? It is not too strange for you?” “Now you are really horny.” Torvik laughed, honestly shocked by this development but not horrified at the result. In a way only apparent to someone from his culture, now Ionera truly appeared like a horny little devil, the mythological figure having been totally unknown in Asharran culture. The two horns were shiny and the points were blunted and not sharp. The horns themselves looked hard but actually bent like ear cartilage, the softer bones inside the ears. “Your ears!” Torvik exclaimed. In all of the excitement, he had not noticed that Ionera’s ears were now very different than they had been before. Rather than being the traditional Asharran feline-like ears which stood up on the tops of their head, she now had a 312

The Winds of Asharra very different pair of ears and most amazing of all, they were no longer on the very top of her head. “How did I not notice this?” Ionera sighed, as she begin to gently run her slender fingers around the tips of her new ears. Instead of the cat-shaped ears located on the top of her head, her new ears were more human shaped and located where normal human ears would be, on the sides. However, they still differed from Torvik’s because they were longer and pointed. They gave her the appearance of a pixie or an elf, except that she also had the pair of twin silver horns. “They are fremming beautiful”, she purred, using the Asharran superlative expression for favorite things. “I love your ears, Torvik and these are more like yours but I get to keep my points. They’re even pointier than before!” Neither child had any ideas how the change to her ears had taken place. The horns were obvious. Whatever caused them, they had been growing beneath her copper colored skin and had finally erupted through them, causing the sudden burst of pain. The ears had somehow slid down from the top of her head. Had her hair and scalp parted somehow to allow this? That is precisely what must have happened since there was no break in her dark brown hair, where her ears had been previously been located, as though her scalp had re shifted itself, after the move. Horns were obviously totally bizarre at first to Torvik, having never seen them on a human, but that he could at least understand in some twisted way. They just grew beneath the skin, probably connected to her skull. The relocation and simultaneous reshaping of Ionera’s ears was entirely another matter. It made her small silver horns almost mundane by comparison. “Do I resemble any nishs you knew on Earth?” she asked, with a definitely happy glide to her voice. 313

R. Leigh “No, we don’t have pointy ears.” “I am glad... but that is too bad. These points are very yi-sha.” she giggled. “I love them.” Torvik stared at her in amazement. A moment ago she had reacted in horror to the sudden change in her appearance, even trying to temporarily conceal it from him. Now, she was admiring herself in the mirror stone, like some girl from Earth, just back from the local mall, trying on a new bikini or thong or maybe checking out a new hairstyle. It was strange and unexpected. It other words, it was completely natural for Ionera. Her quirky smile looked even quirkier as part of her new devilish elf-like image. She twirled around in a quarter turn, attempting to gaze at the changes from all angles. “We did have some cultures who told stories of several kinds of creatures who had ears like those, elves, pixies, fawns, sprites. They had many different names for them but I don’t remember if any of them had the horns too.” Torvik told her, as he finally reached out to touch one of her new longer ears. “I hope my da likes them” she said, almost absentabsentmindedly, not a drop of worry in her velvety voice. “He should,” Torvik smiled. “At least, he will definitely be surprised.” “Oh yes,” she nodded, still studying her unfamiliar reflection. “This is new and different, even for Meeru.” “Why do you think this has happened?” her mate asked blankly. Ionera stopped admiring her new ears and horns for a moment and looked at Torvik with obvious bewilderment. “I have no idea, but if this is what I was worried about, I change my mind. These are beautiful, the ears I mean. It will take me a little bit to get accustomed to the horns but I 314

The Winds of Asharra definitely like the ears. They are even more pointy than my old ones and look how they show off the side of my head. They are in exactly the same place as yours.” Torvik laughed and held her close, pressing her naked body to his. He kissed her and his dox stirred between his legs. “Now I can tell you like the new me.” she giggled. “I will show you exactly how much I like the new you but shouldn’t we be preparing to go to the Osharra circle?” “That is true.” she said, suddenly in a much more serious tone. I will take some food with us in case it is a long journey to wherever my Second Mother lives.” Torvik glanced at the happy copper skinned elf. Her new ears and horns were still completely unfamiliar and unexpected to him. Yet, the warm smile and her now frequent laughter were both things he not only desired, but also needed as much as he needed air and sunshine. He looked at Ionera, taking in her beauty. He saw her and smelled her as she hastily grabbed some fruits and vegetables and packed them in some sort of woven sack. “I’m all ready.” she cheerfully announced. She felt as fully dressed as any Asharran could. Ionera took one brief parting glance at herself in the mirror stone before she and Torvik left the comfort of the Ligasteelia. She was growing increasingly fond of her new ears and their location. Her horns were a happy surprise, she had finally decided. It was an easy decision, now knowing that her mate enjoyed them. It was clear that each of them adored each other in ways that they could not even describe. They walked along the dim yi twilight for a few minutes as Torvik admired the sight of his beloved Ionera. Her silver horns and her naked body glistened in the dim shadow-light of yi-time. Her skin was wet enough in places 315

R. Leigh to catch the faint light and reflect it back at him, creating an ethereal effect, totally in keeping with his image of the long legged nude sprite. “It would be difficult to return there together now.. with my horns and ears and all, wouldn’t it?” Torvik looked at her sweet face, the half-smile mixed with honest concern and told her the truth. “It would be very difficult. On one hand, I would love showing you everything I could of Earth... there are many wonderful things, machines and places and tastes...” “We will let ourselves be carried along by the winds...” she whispered. “Any path is fine as long as we are together.” “I don’t even know how to get back there and if it wasn’t for my father and the thought that I might be accomplishing something very important to share my knowledge of Asharra, I would stay here forever.” “Then we would remain here and be happy and true, “ she smiled, appearing equally content with either option. “How can you do that so easily?” Torvik asked, waving the blades of the doh-rah around for effect, as he spoke. “I do not know what you mean.” “You can switch sides so fast. Which one do you really want?” “I want to be with you.” she smiled, flashing her large yellow-brown eyes at him. “The details are not as important.” “It’s not that simple.” “I did not say that it was.” she smiled sweetly, “by following the Uatu and feeling our sha carry us along the with the Asha, it will not matter.” “But there are so many questions...” he began. “It does not matter.” she said flatly. 316

The Winds of Asharra “I need to know the answers.” “At least one of your minds needs to know, Torvik. Perhaps we shall discover all of your answers. Even if we do not, it will not change our status as bonded mates. You are my Ishanna, my home within. I carry you inside of me and you do the same.” Torvik gazed into her wise eyes and held her close, pausing from their walk to the Osharra Circle. “Even if something bothers her, it does not matter for long, at least if it has to do with the two of us.” he thought. While he still felt a minor conflict within Ionera, her dark shadow, it seemed less now. She adapted remarkably quickly to her new appearance, the horns and the ears. Torvik was certain he would never had reacted so calmly and without question. Granted, growing up on Asharra, and having a sort of natural trust in things made life easier for Ionera, but he knew that there was more to it than that. Ionera did indeed have a darker side, obscured by an intangible shadow. She was indeed very capable of feeling moody, confused and sad. Even when it was not evident, Torvik sensed from her that it was as much a part of her as her usual quirky pixie side. As of result of their time talking, charging the doh-rah, he had learned that his mate was not only complex, but perhaps even more sensitive and tender than he could imagine. This odd aspect which didn’t appear to fit in with her cheerful side, was under the surface, evident from more of a gut feeling than observation. There was a faint sadness in her words just now even as they sounded so confident and optimistic. Torvik knew that now was not the time to press Ionera on such matters. Even though she seemed completely content with her new appearance, even preferring the new ears to the old, he decided not to pursue any conversation relat317

R. Leigh ing to her sudden transformation and how it might effect their life together. Certainly, if he did discover, through Yavaran, that he must return to Earth, then it would now be even more difficult to shield Ionera from the prejudices of Earth, what Theyna had accurately called Dog culture. If they returned together, wearing a constant hat over her head would be an obvious requirement, not difficult in and of itself, but one more indication that she would not fit in. He looked at his beautiful mate in the twilight of the lesser Yi-sun. her long lanky body with curves most evident at her tezz was breathtaking. The thought of covering it up on Earth was sickening. Yet, in one way, Ionera’s physical changes were now distancing herself even more from her fellow Asharrans. Aside from being Meeru, whatever that really was, and having this faint shadow of a darker side, Ionera was now physically separated in appearance from other native born Asharrans. Torvik told himself that perhaps this did not matter on this planet since various Iramu, or off worlders like himself lived on Asharra. Perhaps the warm and caring nature of the Asharrans could easily welcome these minor changes. After all, even a being such as Wole, the imposing bull creature had a place on Asharra. He appeared to fit in but was the appearance accurate? Torvik said nothing and only smiled lovingly at his mate. The two 18 year olds walked along the path together, grateful for each others’ mere existence. “Yes, I am surprised to see you.” Wole told Oppapalo not too far away. “You do not look well.” “I have been trying to push the Oon toward the Osharra circle,” he replied.” Even rolled into a ball, his weight is more of a strain on my muscles than I ever would have imagined.” “You do this exercise for pleasure or because you want 318

The Winds of Asharra to increase your muscles?” “Neither. “ Oppapalo sighed, clearly exhausted. “The Oon must be brought to the Osharra Circle by mid Yi-time. Torvik and Ionera will be joining me there. We are going to see my mother, Yavaran.” “So you did receive an answer to the message crystal.” Wole made an expression which his closest friends recognized as his version of a hearty smile. “I will inform Zoe and Theyna.” “You may inform them but they are not invited.” “What?” the huge bull suddenly snorted. Oppapalo raised his arms in friendship and a hasty attempt to quiet Wole’s potentially volatile nature. It was not completely Asharran but then again, neither was the large steer. “It is not my wish. It is Yavaran’s.” “I see. Even Zoe is not invited to see her then?” “No. Her emotional intentions were encoded on the crystal and visible to my mother. It was clear to her that the Earth-Asharran has no desire to leave Asharra and return to the planet of her birth.” “I see.” Wole nodded almost quietly, surprised that Zoe would choose to separate herself forever from her heritage and her own kind. He of course, had never had that choice. His parents had chosen never to return to their home world, after receiving the Asharra-dobar, and accepting its silent invitation to journey to Asharra. The pair of huge blue Loaks never regretted their decision although they never spoke of the details of it to their son. Long before Wole was born, they had concluded that Asharra was their true home in every way. Even if there were truths to be shared with others, it was not their Kokayniah. Their own destiny was a 319

R. Leigh mystery to them, as it often is, but they were content to let the winds of Asharra carry them along without lingering worry or regret. The Loak grew up wondering what it would have been like to return to a world where everyone was like himself, large and gruff, at least on the outside. The Osharra-dobar was only a device for its intended couple. It never extended any sort of invitation for their next generation, those born on Asharra. Apparently, Wole had a different Kokayniah, a curious and sometimes frustrating path. He felt the short time since he had met Theyna to be the most gratifying in his life. While he reveled in his craft as a tiira-lu, a crystal artist, it was of course just something he did. On Asharra, no one was so foolish as to define themselves by an occupation or even a hobby. These were merely scenery or stops along the path one’s life took. They could and should be enjoyed but they did not define an Asharran. Nothing defined an Asharran except his or herself, through the interaction of their minds, the head mind and the nish or dox mind. There were many times when balancing or integrating these minds were difficult for Wole, especially growing up as a young steer on Asharra. Apart from the fact that he stood obviously apart in his appearance, the differences in biological tendencies were clear as well. He was tender and gentle, later to be a talented craftsman. Yet, he could easily appear overly loud and menacing, often making even the most potentially friendly Asharran feel ill at ease. Although Wole acknowledged some inner tendencies unique to his kind, he had willingly embraced all aspects of Asharran culture and felt the same as other Asharrans, so long as they had been transformed into giant bulls who were often the subject of curious benign stares. It was amazing to 320

The Winds of Asharra Wole that this never seemed at all relevant when he was with Theyna. It was also equally clear that the long haired Asharran had no difficulties at all accepting Wole in his unique form. Still, he wondered how much easier it would be for the two of them if he could blend into the diverse crowd of Asharra. The planet held all shapes and sizes but Wole felt he was still on one end of a very long continuum. He loved his life on Asharra and knew almost nothing of his parents’ home world as they rarely spoke of it. The idea that Zoe would choose to turn her back on the possibility of returning to her home, even if Asharra was so much superior, amazed the giant bull. Even honestly feeling that Asharra was true to its definition of “home”, Wole wondered at Zoe’s choice of one home over a previous one. He had never considered imagining the possibility of such a choice. He loved his life on Asharra but he had never had a choice. He loved Theyna with all of his might but he never had a choice of the degree of blending in, either with her or with all Asharrans. “I will inform both Zoe and Theyna of this.” he grunted. “It will be a shallow conclusion if I can not bring the Oon to the Osharra Circle at mid yi-time.” Oppapalo heavily sighed. The statement at first mystified Wole, as it was highly unusual for any appointment or schedule for Asharrans to be so inflexible. He had assumed that mid yi-time was merely a suggested time, something so common on Asharra. The idea that it was some sort of deadline was amazing and very disturbing. After staggering through these examinations of logic, Wole came to an inescapable conclusion. Informing Theyna and Zoe of this news was 321

R. Leigh unimportant compared to the possibility that Torvik’s journey and choice could be taken from him. Wole would not allow that to happen, regardless whether or not he understood the young Earth-Asharran. If Torvik had the the possibility of having a choice, Wole would do what he could to assist. That was natural and actually true to Uatu. He thought and felt this effortlessly. “Show me the location of the Oon.” he bellowed to Oppapalo, “You are too weak to continue.” Oppapalo smiled, never having to directly ask the giant steer for his assistance. He had been en route to the shop, intending to seek out Wole and enlist his help. Now, that clearly was not necessary. Wole had embraced the possibility willingly and his ya-sha filled the air and blended with it. The intensity of Wole’s desire to help was carried on the wind and sensed by the Oon, several minutes away. The great tree being was filled with warmth and gratitude, now being fully aware that help was literally on the way. In the short span of time, the many decades he had been on Asharra, the Oon had become fond of the native born Asharrans and their way of life. Already having renounced his heritage as a warrior tree of Shellibak, the Oon felt a kinship with the non-plants, no matter how different and strange they appeared to him. This was most recently extended to the newest creatures he encountered, the pair of non-plants named Torvik and Zoe. They were so similar to the Asharrans and yet a tiny bit different, just to add growth and diversity to the garden of life. Lastly, the creature named Ionera was even more individual and unique to him. She had a drop of something that distinguished her from the others, something different but yet surprisingly familiar. The Oon decided to think and ponder on this. Perhaps in a 322

The Winds of Asharra few decades, he would reach a conclusion. To the tree, it was no time at all. The ever growing slope of the ground towards the spectator seating surrounding the great Osharra Circle was a trivial thing to sprint by, for Ionera and Torvik. The young couple, bounced along the path, and happily engaged in a naked dash toward the final stretch of the way, reaching the seating without any difficulty. Torvik laughed out loud, enjoying the impromptu race with his gorgeous mate. Carrying only the twin red blades of the doh-rah, he stopped as he reached the first row of green benches and gazed at his mate. Ionera’s small shalas heaved up and down, causing her nipples to jiggle seductively as her rapid breathing from the brief run took a few moments to settle down. Pausing to sit for a instant, she reclined on one of the crystal benches in the first row. She unconsciously spread her legs widely since her constant nakedness was the norm on Asharra and no cause for shame. Her hands caressed the muscles of the back of her thighs, tense from the still enjoyable dash to their destination. Torvik ignored the available spots on the long green bench on either side of her, instead choosing to sit at a lower elevation on the ground, directly in front of her. The look of love and admiration on his face was clearly evident, even in the dim twilight of the Yitime. “I’ll spread them wider if you want.” Ionera chuckled softly. Torvik looked down at the delicious sight of her . Her primal smell had been wafting its way since the second she sat down. The teenager from Earth felt its magnetically strong pull, even though he had been quite content to have 323

R. Leigh been concentrating on the beauty of her eyes, nose and mouth. He decided that her new ears did indeed look wonderful, almost elf like and the two silver devilish horns were attractive in their own way as well. “Actually, I was looking at your face,” he replied quite honestly. “If you’re going to fremm, you need to do it inside the Circle” said Wole from somewhere behind them. Torvik and Ionera immediately turned to see the giant bull, as well as the Oon and Oppapalo standing there in the Osharra circle. “How long have you been standing there?” Torvik asked, still retaining a tiny bit of Earth induced modesty, This was ridiculous of course, since they were all completely naked and their actions completely natural. “Long enough to see that you too are happy.” Oppapalo beamed. “Yes, Da. “ replied the gothic pixie to her father. “ It could not be more true. Torvik was helping me with my shadow.” “What happened to your ears?” Oppapalo suddenly asked. “Do you like them? See how they are in the same location as Torvik’s? The shape is more like his too and I even have bigger points than before.” The pure joy in both her voice and her face were obvious to all present. Even the Oon was overwhelmed with her thoughts of bliss. The giant tree telepathically sent her his warmest and most stable wishes. “So that was the cause of the marks.” her father said, “Turn around. Let me see your back.” The importance of the simple statement hit Torvik like an electric shock. He had totally forgotten about the similar 324

The Winds of Asharra set of tiny red marks on Ionera’s back. She had been stressing the pain in her head and with that, and the actual appearance of her horns and new relocated ears, he had completely forgotten about the other pair of marks. The naked nish, twirled around towards her father, Wole and the Oon. Her bare legs and tezz were as lovely as ever and there appeared to be no change to her back. The small pair of red marks still were evident on her back, but less so, only because of the dim twilight of yi-time. There had been no change from before. They did not appear any worse but they were still there. “I had completely forgotten about them” Ionera remarked. “It is almost approaching mid yi-time.” Wole interrupted. He was enjoying the sight of the little pixie’s bare tezz as much as Torvik was but the giant steer reluctantly wanted to remind the small crowd that time was not completely standing still, no matter what the young couple thought. “Your words are true.” Oppapalo confirmed in a serious tone, as he looked upwards at Yi, the lesser sun. “Where should we be? Does it matter where we stand?” Ionera’s father pointed to the eight separate circles inside the main circle. These individual centers, were like distinct rings of an Earth circus, where the Asharran couples would perform their Doings naturally and proudly before any willing crowd. “None of them. “Ionera chirped from behind his shoulder. “Excuse me?” Torvik exclaimed. “My dreams, my mate. I have fragments of this in my dreams.” “Then share these feelings with us.” her father urgently 325

R. Leigh requested. “It will soon be past mid yi.” Ionera did not know how much past mid yi time would be considered too late. Doing anything on such a precise schedule was rare and strange on Asharra. Still, she had to react, no matter how strange the circumstances. The meeting with Yavaran depended on it. “In my dream, we are standing in the direct center, not in any of the eight circles.” She was referring to the area with the zim mosaic of the Aquarius symbol. It was always thought to be purely decorative, and a symbol for Osharra-kibur, the town by the lake. No rituals were performed there. The Oon slowly rolled them self into a ball and began a slow march toward the center. The plant creature telepathically urged his friends to do the same. Wole needed no such urging, having already taken off at full gallop towards the colorful tile decoration. Within a few moments. Oppapalo, Torvik and Ionera were all standing at the specific spot, the exact center of the Osharra Circle. “What now?” Torvik asked. “We wait?” his Second father inquired, curious how to proceed. “I don’t see anyone.” Wole remarked as he peered into the empty rows of crystal seats, expecting Yavaran to be hiding in the shadows. Finally, the Oon joined them in the appropriate location and attempted to focus his telepathic energies outward, with no apparent success. “No, this isn’t exactly how my dream was.” Ionera mumbled to herself. “Let’s recreate the doings, all of the ones we did at the Arch.” she announced to Torvik. The newly bonded mates immediately proceeded to 326

The Winds of Asharra redo the various Doings which they had previously done and much more. They fremmed in every possible position, and combination, oblivious to the presence of the others. The pure ecstasy of their sensations made time stop in place so they could experience the moments again and again. The fireworks in Torvik’s head went off again and again, proving that this Meeru, this Asharran, was his mate for life. “They do make a nice couple.” said Wole to Oppapalo as they watched the adolescents greedily fremm each other. “She does that very well.” Oppapalo smiled to Wole, filled with obvious pride and glad that his daughter was so happy with her choice of mate. Finally, both of them had sufficiently climaxed enough so that they could turn their attention to the anticipation of some expected event. They untangled their bodies and waited for a moment. Nothing happened. Wole peered into the rear of the Circle, towards the empty spectator seats all around them. Still there was nothing. Finally, the Oon sensed something. “There!” the tree sent his telepathic thought to the group. There was a fluttering noise above them and without any additional warning, a familiar purple form came into view, settling at last on the ground next to Ionera and Torvik. “Huff!” Torvik exclaimed in complete surprise. The dreegin blinked its dark eyes and flapped its wings for a moment as it began to make a quiet la. “You do recall that we said that the dreegin was also invited.” the Oon reminded all those present. Yet, something was terribly wrong in all of this. They were together at the correct location and at the correct time. 327

R. Leigh Ionera and Torvik had even redone all of the doings leading up to their bonding as mates. Still, it was as quiet and empty a place as it was before they had begun. Something clearly was shallow and empty. This could not be Kokayniah. “Where is she?” Oppapalo muttered to himself. He felt a flash of uncharacteristic anger towards his mother, Yavaran, but like all Asharrans, attempted to allow it to pass through him, as if carried on the wind, affecting his feelings for no more than a few moments. “Do you remember anything else?” Torvik asked his mate, staring lovingly into her perfect face. Her short brown hair was matted down slightly from perspiration as a result of wonderful fremming. She smelled strongly of her own primal sweat. The Earth-Asharran picked up the two red Red Fire blades of the doh-rah and waved them around frantically. Still, the result was the same. Nothing. Ionera suddenly giggled. It was a small sound, nothing that would cause everyone to stop and stare at her, but that is precisely what happened. All eyes were immediately upon her. The members of the group, already frustrated from the lack of any response, were mystified by her actions. “Was this more Meeru strangeness or another aspect of Ionera’s shadow?” thought Torvik to himself. “This is the part of my dream that I could not understand.” she said to him. “Now, I remember it and understand completely.” Without another word, Ionera stepped beside Torvik, and placed her arms around him, drawing him even closer. Instinctively, he did the same, placing both hands around her and quickly dropping one down to squeeze her round tezz. They passionately kissed. Their mouths opened and 328

The Winds of Asharra their tongues danced together in a happy celebration of their love. They tasted each other and the remains of Torvik’s cum, still inside her mouth. This was the fragment of the dream so unclear to Ionera since the concept of kissing had been strange to her. She did have to re-create the Doings but with one important difference, they had to kiss. It was just a kiss but on a world unfamiliar with kissing, it was so much more. Since it was so unfamiliar to Asharrans, it came as an even greater shock to all members of the group, including the young couple, that the dim twilight of yi-time was changing, except that it was not becoming lighter as it should. Instead, it rapidly was becoming almost pitch black, completely unheard of on Asharra. This however, was not due to any celestial eclipse or any other planetary phenomena. They all suddenly felt enormous gusts of wind around them, and a sting of dust in their eyes. Yes, the dust in the air was obscuring the dim light and transforming the immediate area around where they stood completely black. The sound of the dreegin, the la it was making, continued although getting louder in intensity. Huff was apparently attempting to calm them and only the Oon knew the true meaning behind the little purple reptile’s sounds. The intelligent tree kept his thoughts to himself and waited for that is what the Oon did very well. “Ionera”, Torvik said, as they still were locked in their embrace. “It is not shallow.” she replied. “This is true.. you will see.” Wole clawed at the darkness, ready to fend off some unseen enemy but no enemy ever came.. Oppapalo managed to pick up the Red Fire blades and hand them to Torvik. 329

R. Leigh “Do I use these now?” he asked his Second Father. “I do not know.” he replied. “I do not think it would make matters worse.” Torvik attempted to wave the Red Fire blades at the unusual dust storm around them but with no apparent positive effects. A few moments passed and they all heard a clicking sound followed by a loud angry rumble. Finally, all of the sensations stopped completely. The dust storm ceased and the area around the exact center of the Osharra circle returned to normal as though nothing unusual had occurred. However, in actuality, something dramatic had happened. None of the group, including the giant tree and even the little dreegin, could be seen. They appeared to have vanished into thin air. Mid yi-time had come and gone and all that had happened was true. “Where are we?” Wole asked, rubbing his sore tezz in the darkness. “Under the Osharra circle,” replied the Oon to all members of the group. “Great.” Torvik groaned. “Yes, it is. “ chuckled the Oon slowly rolling them self into a ball. “Follow me.” “Wait one minute.” cried Torvik, amazed at himself for suggesting that something as slow as the Oon was doing anything too quickly. “What happened and how did we get here?” Wole frantically tried to get his eyes to adjust to the dim almost darkness surrounding them. “If only we could see” he grunted. Happy to oblige, Huff the dreegin spat out a tiny burst of flame, barely lighting a few feet in front of the group. “That’s wonderful, “Ionera reassured the small purple reptile, “but I don’t think you can sustain that for long.” 330

The Winds of Asharra “No” Torvik sighed, “Huff is too small to be of any real help.” Her father nodded, agreeing that the dreegin would exhaust his small flame in no time. Much to their surprise, the small impish creature lifted itself from the ground, fluttering about near shoulder level. This at least revealed that the walls of the underground cavern which the group found itself in were oddly smooth and shiny. “It’s beautiful.” Wole exclaimed with obvious delight, admiring the workmanship. “What is?” asked Torvik. “The walls of course. Someone has shaped them. Look over there!” The blue-black steer gestured ahead slightly on the left most wall. There was a large rectangular nugget of translucent amber zim embedded directly into the shiny black wall. “This was extremely difficult to achieve.” he muttered to himself, fondling the carved piece of zim protruding from the smooth rock face. Just then, the dreegin spat his fire in the large bull’s direction, causing Wole to awkwardly jump back in shock. It was clear that the dreegin did not intend him harm as it was the zim in the wall which was the intended target. The dreegin-fire connected with the zim and caused it to glow a bright golden color. It crackled for a second, appearing to be attempting to decide whether it should extinguish itself or not. However, instead of fading into a dull glow and then into nothing, something unexpected happened. The brightly glowing amber zim embedded in the shiny wall began to pulsate. It did so exactly three times and tripled in brightness, until you could not look at it. Then, with a 331

R. Leigh loud crackling sound, a spark of light jumped from the glowing zim decoration several feet away from them. The spark ignited a second embedded zim rectangle which after a few moments also began to pulsate, precisely when the first had stopped and returned to its normal light level. In this way, there was a sort of domino effect. One after another, an amber zim prism would glow, become white hot and then ignite another either across from itself on the opposite wall, or further along on the same one. The group stood spellbound as the cavern slowly became filled with a warm and friendly amber light. The shiny walls ahead of them seemed to stretch into infinity, now lit with periodic glowing zim in the walls, every few feet. The dreegin made a contented sound before finally gently settling on Ionera’s right shoulder. “I take that back.” Torvik said, reaching out to pat the little creature. “He was a great help.” “He is a dreegin.” the Oon thought at them. “That is what they do. Our apologies about our earlier outburst. We keep forgetting that you non-plants require sunlight to perceive the world. We use it for food, quite tasty you know.” “No apology necessary, my friend.” Torvik smiled. “Then, if there are no other requirements, may be proceed?” the giant tree thought at them. “Where?” Wole snorted. “To visit my Second mother, of course, “Ionera grinned. “Isn’t it obvious? This was her true way of meeting us.” “But she didn’t meet us at all” Torvik protested. “Perhaps not physically, but she told us where to be and when. My dreams told us what to do.. after I remembered 332

The Winds of Asharra more fully.” his young mate consoled him. Torvik transferred one of the Red Fire doh-rah blades to his other hand, managing to carry them both in one for a moment, long enough to caress Ionera, holding her tightly in his arms. “Love of my life and my other half.” he smiled into her yellow-brown eyes. “Spoken like a new Asharran,” she giggled back. “Do you notice that?” Oppapalo asked, gesturing to the area directly above their heads. “I did not see it clearly without the lights.” He pointed to what was obviously the underside of the Aquarius symbol over which they had just been standing. There was some sort of mechanism attached to its bottom, allowing it to tilt sideways, causing their fall to the cave below. It was once again closed, with the mosaic side facing upwards as usual. There was one important difference. “It’s been sealed.” Wole remarked, familiar with the welding marks all along the circular border. “It’s been sealed from the outside.” “Wherever we are going, it won’t be back through there, “ said Torvik, stating the obvious but wondering if anyone might have any unlikely plans to contradict him. The uneasy silence indicated that everyone in the group thought he was entirely correct. Whatever happened was rapid, almost instantaneous. They had been cloaked in darkness, thanks to the freak dust storm, and then unceremoniously dumped into a cave below the center of the Osharra circle. This had to be Yavaran’s doing, but how? “Any guesses?” said Torvik to his friends. “Excellent workmanship, “Wole repeated. “Even my best white fire crystals can’t generate heat like that.” The dreegin made a harsh staccato sound, indicating to 333

R. Leigh the group to turn their attention to other things. The Oon had been ignoring the last several minutes of the conversation and had slowly started rolling down the now illuminated cave. At his slow pace, it would not take long for everyone to catch up. “It appears your tree friend would go along without us if we stay here trying to analyze things.” Oppapalo chuckled to Torvik. The young Earth Asharran laughed to himself. He had been doing what he always did on Earth, relying too much on his inner mouse, his scientific analytical side. Now was not the time for speculation. Their path back up through the Aquarius stone was sealed shut so they had only one option, to proceed. Thanks to the tiny dreegin, they now had more than enough illumination to light their way. Still, the amber rectangles of zim, pressed into the smooth walls of the cave indicated that this was not a common geological formation. A few had designs carved into them, a yi-ya there, a circle here, and many others totally unfamiliar to Torvik. Wole and Oppapalo were now just a few steps behind them. Within a few minutes, they had caught up to the Oon and the small purple dreegin. Wole decided that they could achieve a better pace as a group if he gently rolled the Oon down the cave, giving him what was to Wole, a periodic gentle nudge. The Oon sent a telepathic message to the group involuntarily in response. The exact translation of it was difficult to master but to all of the non-plants, it sounded just like: “Wheeeeeee!” Wole bellowed with laughter, realizing that from the perspective of the giant tree, the bull was giving the tree a wonderful and thrilling experience, akin to some extreme sporting event. 334

The Winds of Asharra The group walked, rolled and flew (depending on which one you were talking about) for what seemed like days. Actually, several hours had passed but there was no way to tell time in the long endless tunnel. Finally, Ionera signaled to for them to stop. “I brought some food with me.” she said, “if you are as hungry as I am, you all need to eat.” The Oon projected a message of contentment to the others, indicating that his photosynthetic nature would sustain him for several days at least. He needed nothing at this time. Huff, the dreegin, apparently was fine as well, since the Oon told the others as much. Ionera stopped and spread out the woven sack on the ground, creating a makeshift tablecloth, displaying its former contents. The assortment of native Asharran vegetables, fruits and nuts was originally selected by her as a snack for she and Torvik. Clearly, it had not been her intention to feed a couple of additional hungry mouths. In the heat of the moment, she grossly underestimated the amount of food that would have been required. This was especially true since Ionera did not have any inkling that the giant blue steer would be a dining guest. His massive frame suggested that he could have inhaled the contents of the sack with one snort. “I don’t require anything now.” Oppapalo remarked curtly. “I had something before setting out with the Oon. Ionera raised her eyebrow in disbelief. Like almost all Asharrans, her father did not lie but he was clearly relying on his own personal definition of requiring food versus desiring it. “I’m ok too..” Torvik added, “you can have my portion, Ionera.” The young nish’s eyebrow went up a little further. 335

R. Leigh “Those are not my favorite foods.” Wole explained, waving the small snack away. “I do not want any either.” The sudden loud rumbling of his stomach, which echoed in the immediate area of the cave suggested otherwise. “You are all acting un-Asharran.” Ionera complained, knowing exactly what they were doing. It was clear that by their refusals, the three males intended for her to have the entire share of the food which she had brought. She was annoyed at them and clearly showed it, tapping her bare foot and placing her hands upon her hips. “I am not going to watch you three play who-has- bigger-daranas over this.” she fumed. Oppapalo and Torvik closed their eyes in obvious reaction to her accurate assessment of the situation. The giant blue bull, however, smiled broadly. Wole looked down between his legs and then towards his two male companions on either side of him. “Not even close.” he smirked, gazing down at his mighty darana’s, dark blue, huge and hairy as any steer’s should be. “Silly.” Ionera giggled as she threw a small piece of fruit at him. Wole deftly caught the small sphere in midair and popped it whole into his mouth. It only took a couple of chews before he swallowed the remains with a loud gulp. “Maybe now my stomach will not betray me.” he roared. It was a happy moment, and a welcome pause from the hours of seemingly pointless wandering through the long tunnel. Torvik had attempted to count the lit zim rectangles in either sides of the wall but changed his mind after he reached triple digits. They only paused briefly for a short 336

The Winds of Asharra break, long enough for Ionera to convince the others to at least sample the nourishment she had brought. It wasn’t long, however, before the group set out once again to follow the path of the cavern before them. By now, the scenery had become tedious and almost hypnotic. They were slowly becoming not only tired but disoriented due to the never ending and never changing walls around them. Huff attempted to provide an energetic la for them to walk in time to, but even the little dreegin’s best efforts were ultimately being undermined by the frustrations of the unceasingly long tunnel before them. “How do Asharrans make tunnels like these?” Torvik asked both Oppapalo and Wole, a thought that had been on his mind since before their all too brief lunch break. “We do not make tunnels such as these.” Oppapalo replied. “It’s too perfect.” Wole added, as he continued to gently roll the Oon along. “Perfection is never perfect and therefore Impossible and Not worth striving for” the Oon interjected his thoughts at the rest of the party. “Why is it too perfect?” Torvik asked, “It’s the smoothness, right?” “Yes,” Wole nodded. “It’s as though it was made by dozens of crystal artists and zim artists but with natural beauty on a scale I have not seen before.” “It is big.” Ionera said, stating the obvious. “No, it is seamless.” the giant Loak corrected her. He went from the brash and gruff creature to the most delicate of artisans whenever the topic would switch to matters of creativity. He clearly admired the caverns and admired them almost more than he could admit. “Seamless.” Torvik repeated. 337

R. Leigh “Natural yet not.. almost perfect.” said Wole, carefully choosing his words in obvious deference to the Oon. “It is not only big but it was made quickly.” “How can you tell?” Ionera asked, not being familiar with such things. Wole grinned a wide and jagged grin, eager for any opportunity to explain the specifics of fine workmanship to a lay Asharran. He was of course, a lu, an artist, despite his appearance. “This took intense heat to melt the rock and force to blend the melting rock so that it did not collect into a hardening slag at the bottom. See, there are no rough edges, no piles of rock by the edges where the wall meets the floor. The ceiling is almost round too. That must have been very difficult. The craftsmen who did this, the lu’s, were indeed masters of their work. I would definitely like to meet them.” “We believe you will have that wish granted, “the Oon thought at him. “We sense that one of your master craftsman is just up ahead. We should reach him in no time.” Torvik and Ionera both looked at each other and sighed. Given the Oon’s perception of time, that meeting might take place in moments or several days or even weeks. There was no telling how far up ahead this master craftsman was. “Perhaps it is Yavaran herself?” Ionera asked, glancing over at Oppapalo for inspiration and comment. He gazed lovingly at his nude daughter, clearly eager to imagine her grandmother as some larger than life figure. Even with her horns and newly shaped ears, Ionera still resembled the daughter he always knew, full of wonder and excitement. True, her occasional shadow would emerge, placing a damper on things, but still she was his joy and his 338

The Winds of Asharra source of admiration. Seeing her happy with Torvik only increased his pleasure. Seeing the two adolescents naturally play and fremm each other made Oppapalo conclude that his primary job as a parent was now more than complete. His young daughter was bonded now and he finally had a son, formally called an Other son, though there was no first one with which to compare. “Can you hear that, up ahead?” Wole bellowed. There was a distant noise which at first sounded like roaring thunder but became clearer and more distinguishable as the party ventured closer. The Oon was apparently not only correct, but also in a timeframe that the non-plants could endure. They would finally have someone to direct their questions at. Wole increased the pace at which he spun the rolled ball of Oon around, and gestured for the others to pick up the pace. They did so, and before too long, they stood before the source of the noise. It actually wasn’t a noise at all. It was more of a droning sound, like a cross between a tuba and a bass drum but many more of them or much larger. Torvik, Ionera, Wole and the Oon stopped in their tracks and observed an amazing sight ahead of them, frozen sheer fascination and awe.. Only Huff, the small purple dreegin seemed truly animated and excited, not content to stand still like the rest of them. The tiny dreegin flew away from his companions, towards the source of the noise and began to play a strange and happy la. The noise stopped. “I don’t believe it.” Torvik said, gazing ahead. “What is it?” said Wole. “Can’t you tell?” Ionera asked, looking past the clear differences. There in front of them, blocking their path and also clearly filling the space of the cavern from floor to ceiling 339

R. Leigh was a huge and imposing creature. It was larger than any one of them could imagine, anyone except Torvik strangely. Despite its massive form, the animal’s shape was quite familiar. The creature had a long tail, scales and huge wings which it was slowly flapping in time to Huff’s musical serenade. It was hunched over in the tunnel and more of a horizontal creature than a vertical one, despite its long neck. Wole imagined that in the open air, when it was fully extended, it would be tremendously huge. “It can’t be... “ Oppapalo said, of the enormous creature.”It’s a dreegin.” “No...” whispered Torvik, “back home, we call this size a dragon.” “You have such as these on your world?” Wole gasped, obviously impressed and in awe of the huge creature. “Only in the ancient myths and legends of a few cultures, not for real.” the teenager whispered. “Too bad.” the bull snorted. “Every world that has the opportunity to admire him, is truly fortunate.” “Admire her.” the Oon corrected, “She is female.” “You can read her thoughts?” Torvik asked, eager to learn as much as he could. “We can.” the Oon telepathically answered all of them, “She is very tired from building this cave.” “Of course, “ Wole bellowed unexpectedly. “I should have guessed...the heat.. the sheer power. If a little dreegin can spit tiny amounts of fire and steam then this one can do so a hundred fold, clearly enough to blast the walls and create this cave, this tunnel.” “it was done all for us.” Ionera said in a soft voice, having been silent until now. “She did it for us.” The lovely nish took a step forward as she had been 340

The Winds of Asharra standing behind Oppapalo and Torvik, almost hidden from the mighty fire breathing creature. Huff, the tiny dreegin also moved forward, cautiously fluttering within a few feet of its massive doppleganger. “He looks just like Huff but dozens of times larger.” Torvik whispered to the group, “except for the color of the scales and wings.” It was true. The large creature, now distinguished as a dragon rather than a dreegin because of sheer size, was identical to the small purple Huff in shape but instead was a shiny jet black color, making her almost blend in with the black walls of the cave “She did this to bring us here.” Ionera said again, paraphrasing her earlier comment as she slowly stretched out her left hand. Huff fluttered around it, partly in mock protection and partly to show his ancestor the degree of affection he had for Ionera. The massive black dragon blinked its eyes in obvious surprise and gradually extended its long sinuous neck toward the 18 year old. There was a loud rush of air that bounced off the sides of the cave as the dragon snorted, a full exhale, prior to sniffing Ionera’s hand. Then, with unexpected gentleness, the shimmering ebony giant sniffed at her slender hand, causing Huff, a miniature doppleganger, to flap his wings rapidly and make a soft and harmonious la. “I don’t think she can make a la.” Ionera commented, quite accurately. She withdrew her outstretched hand for a moment, but instead of returning it to her side, Ionera made a slow obvious arc with it. Satisfied that her deliberate maneuver was understood, she twirled it as high as she could and then made contact with the top of the black dragon’s head. It 341

R. Leigh made a noise somewhere between a growl and a purr. “Is that wise?” Ionera’s father asked, obviously concerned for her safety. “It could have harmed us the first minute we came upon it.” said Wole. “But is that a happy sound or are you irritating it?” Torvik asked, stepping forward to be by Ionera’s side. He placed one of his arms around Ionera’s waist as she continued to pat the black dragon on its massive head. “She is content.” the Oon thought at them, “and no longer confused.” “Confused?” Oppapalo exclaimed, “Why?” “Now she recognizes them. They are the primary invited guests.” thought the Oon. “She has almost completed her task.” “The dragon is a messenger for Yavaran, my mother.” “Yes, Oppapalo “ the Oon telepathically continued, “and she is eager to be reunited with her mate, a giant white dragon. It is her mate who was the source of the dust storm and the one who sealed the revolving platform after we fell through it.” “It was a diversion so that no one would see us disappear.” Torvik thought out loud, “but why all the secrecy?” “Creatures like this should be celebrated, not kept secret.” remarked Wole, as he finally stepped closer and gazed directly into one of the dragon’s eyes.” “She senses how alone you have been.” the Oon remarked, startling the blue steer. “The dragon can read minds too?” “No,” came the simple reply from the large tree, “ but she can sense your feelings. Her greater mind, her nish mind, is that developed that she can sense your inner feelings.” “She’s empathic.” Torvik muttered to himself. 342

The Winds of Asharra “Just as the smaller dreegins are.” the Oon added. “The dreegins can sense our feelings?” Ionera smiled, gesturing for Huff to land on her shoulder, which he promptly did. “They always have, “ the Oon happily explained her, “and your feelings are the easiest ones for them to sense. At this moment, they are both happy and sad for you.” Before Ionera could comment on the Oon’s projected thought, the large black dragon turned around and slightly to the side. It was the first time that everyone present could see that the tunnel apparently came to an end, right behind it. The dragon gently nudged a recessed zim panel behind it, and the wall pivoted to one side, opening the tunnel for them to pass. “She obviously created some sort of door, kept shut for uninvited guests.” said Torvik as he and his mate slowly walked towards the opening. “Why bother?” Wole chuckled. “Who would be able to get past a creature such as this?” Oppapalo smiled a small knowing smile and nodded his head. “My mother, Yavaran, wasn’t taking any chances. This weelu was only for us.” “We would appreciate assistance,” the Oon thought at Wole after rolling itself into a ball for traveling. Much to the intelligent plant’s surprise, before the steer could resume his periodic pushing, aiding in rolling the Oon along, the black dragon had intentions of her own. Using only her head, the huge dragon gave the Oon a single push, sending the rolled up tree zooming past the others out of the tunnel. “Wonderful.” the Oon thought to all of them. “Wonderful and Gratitude to the primeval dragons.” 343

R. Leigh Wole immediately chased after the Oon, realizing that his continued assistance would still be most necessary, especially if the tree ball might collide into a wall or anything else up ahead. While the efforts of the bull would be most helpful for speedier locomotion, there was no immediate need to prevent the Oon from crashing into anything. This was because the tunnel widened into a huge chamber, the length and depth of several Asharran crystal buildings. The Oon was not in any immediate danger. One by one, each of the guests passed by the majestic ebony dragon and entered the large chamber. Only when they had passed, did the enormous creature take a few steps inside, depress another zim stud to close the swinging door, and immediately seal it shut with a sudden blast of fire from its mouth. “Yavaran is taking no chances.” Oppapalo thought to himself. The chamber was huge and roughly square in shape. It was composed of a light brown shiny stone, with carvings made directly into the stone as well as multicolored embellishments of zim everywhere. The same luminous zim panels were evident as well, providing more than enough light in which to see and admire the intricate details. “This is Asharran and yet not.” Oppapalo commented, as he ran his fingers along the ridges of some of the carvings. “Very nicely done.” Wole smiled in admiration, “And a project of this scale is most difficult, even with a large experienced team.” “Probably a lot easier when you have a dragon or two helping, “Torvik laughed. He pointed to the black dragon, who only now could stand fully upright in the larger chamber and spread her massive wings. The creature walked off to the side past a triangular archway. 344

The Winds of Asharra “Probably in need of food and rest.” Torvik smiled. “And can the same be said for you?” came a voice behind a massive carved pillar. The figure moved, revealing herself to be the object of their immediate search. “Yavaran!” Oppapalo immediately exclaimed as she came into view. “Second Mother.” whispered Ionera in a quiet voice, tightening her grip around Torvik’s hand. “As always. “ Yavaran proudly laughed. She stood there next to the large stone pillar, casually resting one hand upon it and studied the guests as they studied her. Yavaran stood before them in an almost regal and majestic manner, without claiming any rights, titles or honors of any kind since there were no such things on Asharra. She was regarded as an Elder, a Rohulu, by those who knew of her existence, but that was a label due to her apparent wisdom, not due to her age. In fact, with the exception of the obvious long shiny silver hair reaching just above her bare nipples, there was almost no way to tell her age. As Oppapalo’s mother, she was at least four or five decades old, but it was impossible to distinguish her from anyone half that age. There were only a few lines on her face, but instead of appearing to be due to the ravages of time, they appeared only to highlight her cheekbones and the curve of her mouth, accentuating her striking beauty. Her voice was strong and bold without being shrill or staccato. It was the type of voice that instilled admiration as well as a comforting strength. She was pure yi-sha wisdom and power and she was wearing a bright red skirt. This was the first instance that Torvik had ever observed of any clothing being worn on Asharra. It stunned the teenager, surprising him how quickly he had grown ac345

R. Leigh customed to the complete nudity in Asharran culture. Observing Yavaran, topless and barefoot, wearing a flowing crimson skirt draped around her, almost to her ankles was bizarre and jarring. The response by Wole, Oppapalo and Ionera was identical and that further baffled Torvik. For the Earth Asharran, it was a curious case of the proverbial tables being turned on himself. He grew up accustomed to seeing people wearing clothes. It was the norm. The fact that he had so rapidly adapted to the reverse on Asharra , total nudity for everyone, was amazing. It was ironic and humorous for him to be surprised to see anyone wearing clothing, something which he would have taken for granted. Now, in such a short span of time, Torvik was more comfortable with seeing everyone around him naked. While Yavaran’s covering of her nish would seem normal on Earth, it already appeared odd to Torvik, a reassuring indication to the teenager, how Asharran he had already become. Yet, perhaps it was just as amazing, for his Asharran companions, Wole included, to be as shocked. For them, this was no case of table turning. This was plainly strange and unnatural. Why would anyone disguise or hide their body, the physical expression of who they were? This was not done on Asharra by anyone, not due to law or even due to custom. It was just considered unnatural in a basic and fundamental way. The fact that a reclusive Elder would choose to do this was regarded by each of the three Asharrans present as oddly shallow at best and sadly empty at worst. Yavaran took the same moment to study each of them, with a pair of steely blue eyes. Her chiseled looks and high cheekbones gave no immediate indication of any emotional reaction on her part as her glance darted from one person to 346

The Winds of Asharra the next. Her facial expression did not change at all until she finally rested her gaze upon the large blue steer. “Who are you?” she demanded, in an obviously shocked tone of voice. “You were not invited here.” Wole puffed out his chest and snorted loudly, attempting to instill some apprehension or at least minor awe on her part. To put it bluntly, the Asharran Elder was not at all impressed. “Don’t try such bluster with me, “ she snickered. “I knew your parents before you were born and they would be ashamed of such behavior.” The blue bull thought for a moment and then sneered at the Elder, “Which is it? First you ask who I am, then you tell me of my parents? Why do you act so shallow?” The air became thick with silence as all present waited for her reply. Yavaran slowly removed her hand from the pillar beside her and folded it, along with the other, across her chest. She raised an eyebrow at Wole and shot a scowl in his general direction. Her menacing look made the bull uneasy but within seconds, it had been transformed into a look of ironic humor. Yavaran was smiling. Wole was not certain if he preferred the scowl upon her face. “Well said, “ she smiled at him, “I do not like to be surprised and your presence was not anticipated. I did know your parents, as I know all Iramu who pass through this place when they first arrive on Asharra.” “You know my parents?” Wole gasped. “They never mentioned you.” “Good.” Yavaran laughed, “That was part of the agreement. It was my counsel with them that helping convince them to remain on Asharra.” Wole’s eyes flashed brightly in astonishment. “I think I may even have some Garopdineng left from 347

R. Leigh when they first arrived. “ chuckled Yavaran in an odd sort of way as she licked her lips. “Garopdineng?” Wole repeated. It was one of the few words from his parents’ native planet with which he was familiar. He always took it to be a powerful term, for some Doing which was as important to his father as the ways of Asharra. There were a few instances growing up, when Wole would be especially frustrated that his father would invoke this word, and regret its loss at that moment. It surely represented a mighty concept to his father. “It was unusual and fortunate that your father was holding a bottle of the stuff when he accepted the invitation of the Asharra-dobar, “explained Yavaran. “I had never tasted anything like it before or since. It was most... disorienting. He left the remainder of the bottle with me as a gift, and the last tie to his previous life. “Alcohol. It’s some kind of drink.” Torvik chuckled to himself. Wole still did not fully comprehend the significance of the remark but dimly perceived that this substance would have eased his father’s pain when he watched Wole have his own difficulties growing up on Asharra as the only one of his kind. “Perhaps we can share some later.” Yavaran joked to Wole, “I haven’t touched it in years but I can still remember the taste and the sensation.” “That would be ... acceptable. “ Wole grunted, obviously disarmed by the sudden revelation of Yavaran’s knowledge of his parents. “You said that all Iramu pass through this place. “ interrupted Torvik, “I never did and I am Iramu. I am from a place called Earth.” 348

The Winds of Asharra Yavaran twirled around and stared intently at Torvik. She was not accustomed to being interrupted, primarily because of her solitude, not because of her apparent haughtiness. “Ni Hao!” she said to the teenager, greeting him in perfect Mandarin Chinese. Now it was Torvik’s turn to be stunned. He certainly wasn’t Chinese, but hearing any words from Earth come out of the mouth of an Asharran was shocking. He knew the expression since his father, the professor, often had international colleagues over to the house for dinner. “Dia dhuit” Yavaran greeted him in perfect old Gaelic, something totally unfamiliar to the teenager. Yavaran frowned and attempted one last greeting phrase she had learned of Earth, “Em hotep nefer”. “That’s ancient Egyptian for hello...in great peace...” Torvik beamed, recalling that from his anthropology studies with his father. “And apparently equally inappropriate.” Yavaran said flatly, “My knowledge of Earth expressions is limited only to those three. Luckily, the winds of Asharra carry the meaning of your words to me, making such, what do you call them.... languages... unnecessary” “So there have been other people from Earth who have come to Asharra.” Torvik laughed, stating the obvious. Yavaran smiled in a pained way, having already made her point. She tilted her head to one side, anticipating and waiting for Torvik to resume his original question. “I never came to this place when I arrived.” Torvik repeated. “And that is why you are so confused. “ came her swift reply, blunt but with an honest touch of compassion. You are indeed Iramu but you did not arrive with your mate. 349

R. Leigh That is why you were not brought here.” “And that is why the Asharra-dobar never opened for me?” Torvik wondered out loud. “Yes, silly dox. That is why. Enough of such talk for the moment. I can hear your stomachs growling from here and all of you must be tired. There are chambers over there where you can rest. I will return shortly and give you the complete tour and a good meal.” “Mother...” Oppapalo interrupted her, unable to contain himself another moment. “Won’t you even acknowledge me?” “You are acknowledged.” Yavaran answered curtly without a trace of emotion. “We will all speak later.” Yavaran turned towards the giant tree and smiled gently. It was the purest and gentlest expression the group had seen on her face thus far. “There is a garden, that will be to your liking Oon. Please follow me.” Before departing, she cast a lingering look at Ionera and gave her a confusing half-smile. The nude 18 year old blushed and looked down at her bare feet, not knowing what to say or do. Seeing this, Yavaran shook her head, saying nothing, and then stormed off past an archway to the right. “That was my mother.” Oppapalo sighed, clearly exasperated. “She never said a word to me.” Ionera sighed. Torvik smiled at his young mate, and squeezed her hand. “You never said anything to her either.” he smiled, “I’m sure she did not even recognize you.” “But she specifically asked for me... she knew who I was, Torvik. Wole was the only one she was questioning, 350

The Winds of Asharra and that was only because she didn’t expect to see him. She knew who I was and didn’t say anything to me.” A sad expression crossed Ionera’s tired face and her eyes began to fill with tears. Torvik put down the Red Fire dreegin blades and caressed her, giving her the needed emotional reassurance that enabled her to sob into his arms. “I don’t like it when they cry.” Wole remarked to Oppapalo. “Neither do I ... and especially when it is my daughter.” Only the Oon and the tiny purple dreegin were completely satisfied with the initial brief meeting with Yavaran. Huff, using his dreegin empathy, could detect the sincerity and wisdom within Yavaran, despite her curious behavior towards the group. The Oon, however, had even deeper thoughts regarding the eccentric Asharran Elder. The tree had sent her a brief telepathic message and received an equally brief private reply from her. She understood the plant’s pain and the difficulty of the Oon’s decision. She had agreed to help. Telepathically informing the group that he would be waiting for them in the supposed garden area, the Oon slowly rolled off in the direction where they had last seen Yavaran. They could see her briefly stopping up ahead, glancing over her bare shoulder and waiting for the Oon to catch up, as it slowly rolled along. “Is she always that way?” Wole blurted out to Oppapalo. “I have few memories of her.. but the answer is yes.” he replied. “Her words appear shallow but I am not so sure.” the blue steer remarked with blunt candor. “There is something both comforting and irritating about her.” “That is a perfect description of my mother. “Oppapalo chuckled. 351

R. Leigh The chambers which the elder Asharran referred were actually two alcoves at the far western end of the huge main chamber. Other than a partial wall and a couple of ornate retaining columns, these semi-separated spaces were not really separate rooms at all but rather defined spaces. There was little opportunity for privacy and as was the Asharran way, none was desired or required. The separation of the space was more aesthetic than anything. Both of the smaller alcoves contained some small tables and piles of brightly colored looshie cushions, the traditional Asharran substitute for bed and bedding. Either of the alcoves could have comfortably contained four adults so it appeared that the offer of both of them to the group would allow them to spread out and literally stretch their legs. Wanting to allow the newly bonded couple some shared space together, Wole and Oppapalo selected the left most alcove which had been painted a dark green on its three main walls. The matching space, were Torvik and Ionera decided to rest, was appointed in a similar manner to the first but with a primary gold color. In both cases, there were a pair of glistening white squarish zim encrusted columns where the front wall of the space would have been. It took only moments for Wole to collapse into one of the piles of looshies in the green room. For all of his brash bluster, the large creature was tired from rolling the heavy Oon through the cave. Oppapalo fully expected to continue his conversation with the bull about Yavaran, perhaps elaborating on her strange ways, but that was not to be. The piercingly loud snoring sounds emanating from Wole, made any conversation futile and irrelevant. For as much as it was clear that Wole was enjoying his nap, it was equally obvious that Oppapalo would not get an equivalent opportunity. A group of five Asharrans together could not have 352

The Winds of Asharra snored more loudly than the big blue bull. Oppapalo chuckled to himself that Theyna would have a formidable task ahead of her if she ever intended to sleep peacefully again if she were to share her personal osharra with Wole. Curled up into a ball and continuing to send wave upon wave of rumbling sounds echoing against the walls, Wole was clearly content for the moment. Oppapalo playfully entertained the possibility of poking the giant steer, wondering how high he might jump if his sleep were interrupted. Would he reach the ceiling? The Asharran dismissed this notion without much effort, determining that any result would be insignificant compared to the possibility of awakening a bull even crankier and cantankerous than usual. “Well, since it appears I will get no sleep here, it is time to look around.” Oppapalo thought as he silently left the green alcove going back towards the main chamber by himself. On the other side of the common wall, in the golden space, Torvik had finally soothed Ionera’s hurt feelings regarding her Second Mother. Although her tears were dried, she still harbored feelings of hurt and even a touch of resentment. “I don’t understand it. “ she repeated to her young mate. “It did not go the way I had hoped at all.” “I thought you told me that Asharrans try not to plan things.” Torvik smiled at her, as he continued to lovingly run his fingers through her short brown hair. She shifted position on the pile of multicolored looshie cushions on which they rested together, moving her naked body closer to his. “We don’t but that is not the point.” she pouted. “I see...” Torvik chuckled deliberately, trying to pro353

R. Leigh voke a smile from her. “ and the point would be....” “She was rude and shallow.” “Ionera.” Torvik smiled. “Don’t let this bother you so much.” “You don’t understand.” she pleaded. “I have always thought that Yavaran was similar to me. When my father would tell me stories of her, it was comforting to know that I wasn’t the only one plagued by some dark shadow.” “Yes, your moods.” Torvik remarked. “Yes, my moods.” Ionera repeated. “But now, after seeing her, I don’t think Yavaran is a thing like me. No, maybe I am afraid that she is exactly like me, and I don’t want to be that way.” “What are you saying?” her mate asked, clearly puzzled. There was a fire in Ionera’s yellow brown eyes as she described her concerns to Torvik. She outlined once again, her feelings of occasional separateness from the other Asharrans, feelings which did not make any rational sense since Asharra was practically a perfect society. Ionera felt totally comfortable with the ways of Asharra yet occasionally felt apart from it, as if something was missing from her. Either that, or something else had been added, something unique. Torvik attempted to reassure her, not missing a beat, stroking her hair. “We will see Yavaran again very soon. It’s not like you to worry.” “I am not worried.” she protested. “That is shallow. I am concerned.” “Ah, big difference.” Torvik smiled, taking her in his arms. Their bodies entertwined and the teens hugged each other without saying anything for several moments. It was 354

The Winds of Asharra only when Torvik detected a sigh coming from his mate that he took further action. Abruptly reaching out a tickling her side, he forced Ionera to erupt into uncontrollable peals of laughter. “You’ll wake Wole.” she stammered, pointing to the common wall. “It would take an army of laughing nishs to do that.” smirked Torvik, who continued to tickle her. “Stop it... “ she protested, still howling with laughter. When he immediately complied, the tension in her voice and her body was gone. Ionera draped herself around him, in order to maximize the amount of bare skin touching his. This time, the sigh she let out was one of pleasure and relief. The two adolescents happily napped, weary from their march through the tunnel and their initial brief encounter with Yavaran. Oppapalo wandered around the structure for several minutes, exploring the main chamber where they had originally stood. He noticed a long ramp by the rear wall which sloped gently upwards, past the arch where Yavaran and the Oon had departed. Obviously, they were in the lowest level of the structure. Curious and having no chance of any sleep, the inquisitive Asharran sprinted up the slow incline until he reached what was clearly the second level of the building. The walls immediately revealed two inescapable conclusions. First, it was only the lower level that was below ground since there were clear cut outs, the Asharran substitute for windows, visible on this level. Second, the stone structure in which they were located approximated a pyramid in shape since the walls showed clear curve inwards. The space on this upper level was clearly smaller than the level below. Scanning the immediate area, noticed several arches and columns which seemed to subdivide this 355

R. Leigh level into distinct spaces, much like the first lower one. He could make out a similar incline at the far end of this level, clearing revealing at least another level above where he was now. “What is the purpose of this place?” Oppapalo wondered to himself. If the lowest level seemed to contain only a massive open chamber and a few alcoves for sleeping, this second level was quite different. He silently walked along the stone floor observing as much as he could. His bare feet made only the faintest sound upon the layer of fine grey sandy dirt upon which he walked. Oppapalo was only a quarter of the way through his explorations when he came upon a space which was obviously dedicated for dining. There were several rows of the familiar low tables utilized on Asharra for that purpose. Higher boxlike furniture behind them by the wall appeared to contain the necessary items for feasting including bowls and a variety of glassware and ornate vases. More surprising was his discovery of a figure at the far end of the space, who was carefully making preparations for the upcoming feasts by setting out the Asharran style tableware. The figure’s back was turned to Oppapalo concealing any trace of identity, Yet, what was even stranger by Asharran standards was the way the concealment was achieved. The strange figure was draped head to toe in a shimmering blue robe and hood. It totally obscured anything but the vaguest of human shaped outline. At first, Oppapalo was not even certain if the figure was Asharran at all. It could have been Iramu, an offworlder from some distant planet such as Torvik. However, he did notice a bare of bare feet peeking out from under the robe. The distinctive orange coloration revealed the figure to be native 356

The Winds of Asharra born Asharran and the size and shape of the feet revealed the person to be female. Amazed by this strange revelation, Oppapalo stepped closer to the figure, overcome with curiosity. First, he encounters his mother, Yavaran, wearing a piece of red cloth across her midsection, concealing that which makes her a nish. Now, before him was another nish, who hid her entire body. What strange manner of Asharrans shared this space with his mother? The figure was suddenly startled and aware of his presence. He had moved just a tiny bit too sharply and a small dull scratch of his bare feet against the sandy floor had alerted her. “No!” he cried, “Don’t go away.” The figure stopped and said nothing. Oppapalo could see a gloved hand reach across the folds of the robe, still with her back to him. “My name is Oppapalo.” he said, “I’ve come here with some friends and my daughter.” The figure slowly turned towards him. Her face was almost completely hidden by the shiny blue hood. “Your daughter?” she whispered, in a voice very deliberately faint. “Her name is Ionera.” Oppapalo said in a warm and friendly tone, as he slowly began to step closer to the strange shrouded figure. “We’ve come from Osharra-kibur to meet with my mother, Yavaran at her request.” “I know.” came the hushed reply. Oppapalo saw that his movements toward the shrouded female were unsettling her so her abruptly sat upon one of the round cushions on the floor in front of the long row of low tables. “You have water?” he asked. 357

R. Leigh “I will bring it soon.” came the whispered response. “This place is amazing. “Oppapalo remarked, attempting now to engage the figure with the Asharran equivalent of small talk. “I have never seen such a place and the giant winged dragon...” “Dragon?” the figure whispered. Oppapalo smiled. “I was being shallow. That is the word my Second Son from Earth called it, a dragon. It was a huge dreegin, black in color.” “Your Second Son?” Oppapalo saw the figure shiver in an odd way. “His name is Torvik. He is about my daughter’s age. They have just now become bonded mates.” “Is she happy?” the shrouded Asharran asked. Oppapalo did not know whether or not it was the exact tone of voice or the exact words that had been spoken, but the result was the same. He suddenly and completely without prior warning bolted from his seated position on the floor. The Asharran dox rushed towards the shrouded figure, almost knocking over one of the low eating tables in the process. The figure immediately let out a loud piercing scream. The sound echoed throughout the strange structure, down the incline and even into the lower level below. It awoke Ionera and Torvik from the tranquility of their nap. The two naked 18 year olds unwrapped their bodies from each other and ran from the golden alcove. The combination of the loud scream and the immediate scuffling next door even managed to rouse the great blue steer from his snoring and his slumber. “What is it? What is that empty sound?” he bellowed. “It’s coming from that direction.” Torvik shouted, as he and Ionera ran past Wole into the main chamber and ultimately towards the incline. There was a second scream, and 358

The Winds of Asharra then a softer sound, almost muffled. Torvik and Ionera ran to the incline and ran to the second level of the pyramid. Wole was only a moment or two behind them. When they arrived at the scene, they beheld an incredible sight. Oppapalo was standing as if frozen in place, holding in one right hand, a long shimmering blue fabric. His left arm was extended around a creature so unusual to the remainder of the group, that they literally held their breath. She was tall and naked with long flowing brown hair. Her skin was the traditional Asharran orange, a few shades lighter than Oppapalo and Ionera. However, there was where all similarities to Asharrans that they were familiar with, abruptly ended. The being had several long bands of iridescent turquoise scales apparently attached to her body from her ears down to her ankles. They extended in long lines, giving the impression of multiple vertical shiny stripes going down her back, over her shapely tezz and continuing down her legs. From the position of her arms, it was clear the linear pattern of scales extended to her knuckles. She was still wearing one blue glove and the other was seen resting on the sand covered floor next to them. Oppapalo at last noticed the trio several paces from him and more importantly, they noticed him, with his arm around this creature. The scaly being still had her back to them and was sobbing quietly. Oppapalo was attempting to comfort her, rubbing her back, even across the lines of shiny scales. “Father, what is empty?” Ionera cried, worried what had happened. “It’s alright” he said, wearing an odd sad smile. The middle aged Asharran turned his head towards Wole and Torvik and collected his thoughts for a moment. 359

R. Leigh Finally after a second, he collected his thoughts, obviously confused and unsure what to say.” “This is Shiara, my mate. “ he finally announced, with a giddy grin. “Mother?” Ionera gasped. The nude creature finally turned around, revealing herself to the group. Even with the odd rows of shimmering scales running up and down the length of her naked body, it was clear that she was gorgeous. Her legs were long and slender, her shalas were supple and not overly large but the most incredible feature of all was her face. She looked like an older version of Ionera, complete with the high cheekbones and wide mouth, only in her case, the eyes were a dark green. “Do you remember me?” she asked her daughter in a cautious voice, “Can you accept me such as I am?” Torvik released his hand from Ionera’s, correctly sensing that his young mate was going to rush into her mother’s arms. The strange scales did not matter to her. She had been reunited with her mother. It was a weelu after all. While Ionera hugged her for several minutes and Oppapalo stood by her side approvingly, Shiara glanced over at Torvik and Wole. “I see that my family travels the path with good company. The Winds of Asharra have carried them well.” “As you are always,” Wole replied, the formal Asharran expression of thanks. The giant blue bull bowed in a way almost graceful before the shimmering figure before him. “Honored to meet you.” Torvik grinned, unable to think of anything else to say. “What happened to you? Where have you been?” Ionera cried, with tears of joy literally running down her orange cheeks. 360

The Winds of Asharra “In due time, daughter.” Shiara replied in a soft voice. “Let me look at you. Go, stand there by your mate.” Ionera did as instructed and stepped back next to Torvik, instinctively putting her slender arms around him, almost mirroring the position of Shiara and Oppapalo standing opposite her. “Shiara has been here all this time”, Oppapalo explained to his daughter, as well to as Wole and Torvik. “She thought her change in appearance prevented her from living among other Asharrans.” “Those thoughts are shallow,” Wole remarked with an angry snort, “I resemble no one else on Asharra with the exception of my parents and I survive out in the open.” Shiara looked deeply into the blue steer’s eyes, even from several paces away. Her expression was one of empathy and compassion but also betrayed more than an ample measure of sorrow tinged with regret. She attempted a tiny smile but it only served to amplify her expression to the great bull. “I wished to do more than survive, “ she replied, “and my skin is not as tough as yours, even in its present form.” “Perhaps even a curious stare would be more harmful to her than to you.” Oppapalo added. Wole said nothing but rather hung his head as low as he could. Oppapalo was more correct than he could have imagined and he saw it in the body language of the huge steer. While encouraging Shiara to do otherwise, there was a side of Wole which secretly wished he had taken her option and hidden himself away from even the most well meaning curious stares of the crowds. Yet, his parents did not even present this to him as an option. No, Wole endured not only the stares but even the occasional awkward remarks and even the rare slight from other adolescents 361

R. Leigh when growing up. He was thick skinned but he was also a sensitive living creature, and in this one way, like any other on Asharra. His brute strength and sheer size might encourage him to act on these impulses in a shallow manner but Wole was one to listen to his dox mind. At most, he would snort loudly at any perceived offense, rarely taking the matter any further. Still, he felt Shiara’s pain because it was his own, the pain of being different, even on Asharra, the most tolerant of places. “My appearance is not the only reason why I remained here, my mate, “Shiara told Oppapalo, her love and devotion evident in her voice. “Even in my greater mind, when I ached for your touch, I was here learning how to help prepare the Asharra-dobars for the new Iramu.” “Prepare them? How?” Torvik asked, eager to learn some of the information which he sought. “That can wait.” Ionera unexpectedly contradicted her mate, tightly clasping one of her hands around Torvik’s upper arm as if to restrain his words. “Ionera”, he protested. “Have you forgotten the obvious, my mate?” she asked him, in a bittersweet tone. “What do you mean?” “My mother has been changed and so have I. What is happening to us?” Torvik gulped hard as he finally understood the proper priority of things. Allowing his inner mouse to greedily gain the access to his perceptions was not a solution. He had many questions that required answers but those relating to Ionera would have to come first. His inner tiger, his dox mind, was indeed his true self and it told him with every fiber that his devotion to his young mate was foremost and beyond anything in importance. Her health and safety 362

The Winds of Asharra would be placed above everything. “Your feelings are the most true.” he awkwardly replied, deferring to her. She gazed into his eyes and saw his devotion reflected back at her. Ionera also felt his inner conflict, a continuous dance between his mouse and his tiger, a dance which should have been cooperative but somehow still retained the element of competition, something from Torvik’s Earth culture which was thankfully foreign to Ionera. “We are Meeru and for some of us, this is our Kokayniah.” Shiara explained. “Enough of this!” shouted an upset voice from behind them. “Mother!” Shiara exclaimed, “My words may be shallow and awkward but my feelings are true.” Wole, Oppapalo, Torvik and Ionera, stepped slightly sideways, allowing Yavaran to walk past them until she stood in front of Shiara. It was clear that the elder Asharran was agitated and even nervous at this turn of events. It was definitely not as she had intended and Yavaran did not like to be surprised. “They all deserve answers but done in an orderly way.” she said to her daughter, Shiara. “I never intended...” Shiara stuttered, nervously fidgeting, which caused her body to shake and the rows of shimmering turquoise scales to catch the reflected light and appear to softly glisten and glow. “It was I who was shallow.” confessed Oppapalo. “You? How?” Yavaran sneered. “I was filled with the melody of Shiara’s voice, no matter how she attempted to disguise it. I came upon her, preparing the implements for this feast, cloaked and hidden. Even then, I could not resist her, as I never have been able 363

R. Leigh to, and I called her out, forcing her to reveal herself.” “His words are true but shaded with shallow concerns.” Shiara added. “I tore the cloak from her as soon as I suspected even the slimmest possibility that it might be my mate hidden within.” “Brash but not empty.” Yavaran reluctantly admitted. “You have not changed, Oppapalo. As much as I would wish to temper your brashness, it was this which led you to Shiara in the first place.” “We bonded before even notifying either set of parents.” Shiara explained to those present. “And it was that same brash streak in you as well, that made me wonder if you were suited to the responsibilities of True Meeru ways, Shiara. Fortunately, your time with me here has proven your dedication.” “But you still did not answer Ionera’s question, “ Torvik protested, “What is Meeru and how is that affecting her?” Yavaran flashed a strange smile toward Torvik and then with a dramatic flair, whisked off her long red skirt, to reveal her nakedness to the group. The Elder Asharran nish stood there and let out an ironic laugh while those present, with the exception of Shiara, were dumbfounded and silent. Wearing nothing but a smirk upon her face, Yavaran twirled her body around, like a dancer possessed. Her long silver hair twirled in a long acrobatic arc. Her shalas and tezz jiggled seductively, as attractive as those of any Asharran half her age. Yet, the most amazing sight and what held all present spellbound was the sudden appearance of a long sinuous reptilian tail attached to her, between the globes of her tezz and stretching several feet, tapering to a sharp point. The long reddish brown tail was articulated and un364

The Winds of Asharra dulated like a snake as Yavaran danced around in a circle, laughing in almost a cackle as she moved. “Winds of Asharra!” Oppapalo exclaimed in shock. “Amazing.” Torvik whispered. “We are Meeru.” Yavaran laughed with delight defiantly “ and we are proud of it.” “but what is Meeru and what will happen to me?” Ionera asked in a small voice, her nude body quivering with anxiety over this latest revelation. “You are somehow tied to the dreegins, aren’t you?” Torvik asked, correctly relying on his inner mouse at this wholly appropriate time. “Deep and True!” Yavaran roared with laughter, suddenly moving towards the 18 year old and patting him on the head. “Will I look like you, either of you?” Ionera asked. “I don’t know, little one,” Shiara answered in a comforting voice, “but what is happening to you is not shallow or empty.” “It is powerful. “Wole interjected, clearly impressed with Yavaran’s apparent acceptance of her own transformation. “We have a drop of dreegin blood in us. That is the secret of the Meeru.” revealed Yavaran in a hushed whisper. “In every other way we are like any Asharran.” “Dreegin blood?” Ionera echoed. Torvik’s mind immediately started conjuring up images of gene splicing, DNA and RNA strands and odd hybrids but the degree and complexity of genetic engineering necessary for such a task seemed beyond comprehension. If the tiny subset of the Asharran population called Meeru were somehow hybrids with dreegins, why were they so different? While the conversation between the others con365

R. Leigh tinued, Torvik grappled with the concept and the possibilities. Even at his young age, he had heard a few conversations between his father and colleagues concerning possible scientific advances in the far future, but nothing like this. Could this be naturally occurring in the population? What had caused it and what were the long term implications? Were they diverging as a separate species from the other Asharrans or was that not yet even decided? He toyed with the idea that perhaps some of these Meeru, these Asharrans with some dreegin DNA, were early mutants. Yes, it was clear that the biology was attempting to experiment with individual traits, producing mutants of one sort of another, the way one would find a butterfly on Earth with an oddly shaped wing, a sort of test run for the species. Yet, if that was true, the implications were not promising since on Earth, almost all mutant strains of a species were usually evolutionary dead ends and many were even fatal. “How could this be a good thing?” he thought to himself. The images of change through time, flashed through Torvik’s head mind, his inner mouse. He pictured hundreds of generations of Earth butterflies with different traits, an occasional one here and there with a different color or shape. Most of them were mistakes but occasionally, nature hit upon a mutant that was better suited to its environment. Still, that was basic biology and evolution on Earth. Did things work the same on Asharra? Torvik had to believe the scientific principle was the same but he was still missing something important here, something vital in his understanding. All the while, the images of the Earth butterflies flew before him in his imagination and his subconscious. 366

The Winds of Asharra Suddenly, much to the surprise of the rest of the group. Torvik released Ionera’s hand from his arm and forcefully spun her around. The naked pixie was surprised but certainly not overly alarmed at the actions of her mate. She stood with her back to him, confused but not afraid of his actions. “What is it, my mate?” she asked. “Wings.” he replied. “I do not understand.” Yavaran smiled approvingly as Torvik gazed at the two small red dots on Ionera’s bare back. The elder Asharran stroked her long silver hair while she playfully curled and uncurled her long tail. “This will hurt.” Torvik said to Ionera. “Do whatever you must.” Wole leaned forward as if to protect the 18 year old nish but Yavaran waved him away, flicking her reptilian tail in his general direction, a move strange enough to startle the giant bull and force him to back off. Torvik quickly pushed on the skin immediately surrounding the two red dots and Ionera immediately cried out in pain. “I am alright” she whimpered. “Continue whatever you are doing.” Torvik pressed down a second time, causing Ionera to shriek in pain for a moment but then it was over. Like a child cutting a tooth, two small red bumps now had been forced through the skin on her back. He had only sped up the process. There, clearly observable to all, were two bright red knobs of cartilage each about the width of a person’s thumb and the length of one knuckle joint, protruded from her back. They were obviously going to be the skeletal structure of something very distinctive. 367

R. Leigh “You’re going to have wings.” Torvik pronounced to Ionera, quickly stepping around to her front and caressing her, to blunt any reaction to this revelation. “I am Meeru.” she mumbled, in a trance like voice. “And young Torvik is showing you the way. You walk this path together, just as foretold.” Yavaran laughed out loud. “Foretold?” Oppapalo angrily shouted. “Mother, you have spoken in riddles since we have arrived.” “The path is long and winding, my son. Do not let your brashness obscure the scenery along the way. Torvik here is part of the weelu and it is all deep and true. I will explain all that I know but the time to come, the latest of todays, is still only a possible path.” Just then, the tiny dreegin, Huff, appeared in the chamber. The small purple creature was obviously agitated, flying around the group several times in a counter clockwise circle. It noticed the knobs that would eventually become wings on Ionera’s back and began to make a bittersweet la for her. Its intentions at first seemed clear, to comfort her. Yet, there was something else present. The little dreegin was almost nervous, something which none of the Asharrans present had ever before witnessed before in a dreegin. “Can I use these?” Torvik asked Oppapalo, as he reached for the Red Fire blades of the doh-rah, almost forgetting that he had originally carried them with him from the resting chamber. “Yes... that is one possible use.” Yavaran flashed her enigmatic smile towards the 18 year old. “Dance to the la and release your minds.” Torvik resisted any urge to concentrate. He knew enough of Asharran culture and practice by now to realize that relaxation and naturalness were almost always the suc368

The Winds of Asharra cessful mode on Asharra. His practicing with the doh-rah at the Ligasteelia was only to get himself to relax and become one with it, to attempt to center himself with the red crystal blades. He started to move in time with the melody which the dreegin was making and ever so slowly, he began to hear words embedded inside of the intricate music. This went on for a few moments before Torvik abruptly stopped and fell to his knees, dropping the Red Fire to the floor. “What is empty?” asked Ionera. “What can we do?” Wole bellowed, eager to assist in some way. Torvik looked up, revealing that there were tears in his young eyes. “There is nothing we can do.” he said, fighting back the urge to cry further. “I could understand the dreegin and the reason why he was upset.” “Why is that?” Oppapalo wondered out loud. “The Oon is dead.” Torvik gulped, “The dreegin said that the Oon is dead.” Ionera rushed into Torvik’s arms to comfort him and held him tightly. He began to cry a little harder, a surprise to himself, since he did not completely realize how much the strange plant creature had come to matter to him. In some ways, the wisdom of the Oon seemed second only to his father, not in terms of scope but rather in its honesty and depth. “That took faster than I had thought.” Yavaran unexpectedly blurted out. “What are you saying, mother?” Oppapalo asked, an uncharacteristic flash of worry in his voice. “The Oon had a decision to make and we spoke of it in the garden.” “What sort of decision?” Torvik asked, as he composed 369

R. Leigh himself a bit more. “It was a decision not dissimilar to yours, my new Second Son, “ Yavaran replied. “He told me of his world and the terrible result of its path.” “Yes, he told me of the warrior trees of Shellibak and how he wished to change them, to help them but why is he dead? How does that help?” Yavaran gave him an uncharacteristic warm and tender look before continuing. She placed her two hands on his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. “The Oon was torn between returning to Shellibak in order to help his kind, and remaining here on Asharra.” “So he killed himself because he could not decide?” Torvik gasped. “Silly dox.” laughed Yavaran. “The Oon has options that you do not. You only fail if you give up and I assure you that the Oon did not do this.” “How can you say that?” protested Torvik, “I mean, he is dead and you either convinced him or helped him. I don’t know which is worse.” Yavaran felt the strange anger in the Earth-Asharran’s voice. It troubled her but she understood that his original ways had been different. She attempted to reconcile this with his possible path ahead and attempted some rare patience on her part. “I said he was dead but for the Oon that is only a temporary state.” “Again, you speak in riddles.” Oppapalo mumbled in a clearly disgusted tone. “No, this time she does not.” Torvik replied, finally beginning to grasp what Yavaran was saying. “The Oon is a plant, not an animal like us.” “Deep and True, again.” Yavaran beamed. “As such, 370

The Winds of Asharra the Oon is in the rare position to choose both options of his quest.” “Just as he still carried the seed of all of the prior Oon who were warriors, which is why he wasn’t allowed in the city... then....” A huge grin suddenly erupted on Torvik’s face as he broke free from Yavaran’s grasp. “Which way to this garden?” he hastily asked. “On this level, turn this way and then that.” Shiara explained, mimicking the route with some sort of Asharran sign language. “Come on, “Torvik said, taking Ionera by the hand. “If I am right, we have something extraordinary waiting for us in the garden. His young mate did not require any additional prompting and instead reacted as swiftly as Torvik, bolting away from the rest of the group in the direction indicated by Shiara. “You think the Oon is alright?” she asked Torvik, panting to spit the words out as they ran along the sandy floor. “More than alright, I hope,” he smiled at her cryptically. Behind them, the remainder of the group continued their conversation but with one important exception. Yavaran made a deliberate effort to excuse herself and follow the bonded couple toward the interior garden, at a much more leisurely pace. Content with her own nakedness after having revealed the existence of her dreegin tail to the group, Yavaran made no attempt to replace the flowing crimson skirt around her waist. The natural contrast between her long silver hair and her copper colored skin on her nude body was more than enough to offset the shock of red color provided by the skirt. 371

R. Leigh “I trust you will not get into too much additional trouble if I leave you for a few moments.” she snickered at Shiara before turning her back and storming off. “The tail suits her”, Wole blurted out to Oppapalo. The middle aged Asharran could not help but laugh at the bluntness of the blue steer. As usual, there was wisdom in his words, and not obscured by an iota of subtlety. “Given her personality, I totally agree.” Oppapalo grinned. “At last my mother is true to herself.” “Silly doxs, both of you.” Shiara grinned, trying desperately to stifle her own laughter, without much success. “Yavaran is like three day old Firo bread, dry and almost brittle on the outside but still fresh in the center.” Oppapalo chuckled, “She has always been that way.” “You can chip a tooth on three day old Firo bread, my friend, “ the large steer remarked to Oppapalo. “Knowing what it is like inside does not suggest ignoring the outside.” “My mother is many things but she has never been the type to be ignored. “ Shiara looked into her mate’s eyes and admired his appearance, taking in every detail. He noticed this and did not attempt to stifle a small contented laugh. Oppapalo felt whole again and a strength and vitality returned to his countenance and manner. It was as if a part of him that had been dormant and left for dead, had suddenly sprung back to life. He had dozens of questions for Shiara, some which he preferred not to probe in front of Wole, but all would have to wait since he was so preoccupied with just sharing the same physical space as his beloved mate. Even with the odd rows of shiny scales, she was as beautiful as ever. Although both could easily detect a few lines in each other’s faces since they had last gazed upon them, these were minor trifles and small payment in exchange to once more be together. 372

The Winds of Asharra “If you two wish to fremm, we can talk another time.” Wole suggested, as close to being overtly polite that he could be. Shiara grinned at the bull, and proceeded to kneel down before Oppapalo and give him her undivided personal attention. “I have missed this greatly.” she purred. “Not as much as I have.” he answered, completely caught off guard. Wole watched for several moments. The bull somehow restrained himself from commenting in any way, only piling up some looshie cushions against the closest wall, and propping up one massive elbow on one of the low dining tables. ““Being without you has been torture but knowing that you were raising Ionera outside was my only consolation.” “The winds sometimes have taken us to less than perfect locations.” he said, flashing a bittersweet smile. “She has much of you in her but also a dark sadness. She follows the ways of Asharra and at times is as happy and natural as anyone but there are other times....” his voice trailed off. “Ionera is indeed similar to Yavaran in this way, “Shiara sighed, “Your mother has told me several stories of her youth, before she transformed.” “Then let us hope that Ionera can release herself from her shadow without becoming like three day old Firo bread, as crusty as my mother.” “Silly dox.” replied Shiara, “It is not for our daughter to release the shadow. It is her Kokayniah to embrace it and allow it to become more a part of her. Her transformations have only just now begun.” “Look, over there!” Torvik shouted, pointing to the chamber ahead. 373

R. Leigh They sprinted the last leg of the race, holding hands. The sight of the two naked 18 year olds, a mass of jiggling tezz’s and gangly legs was both comical and aesthetically attractive in the most natural of ways. By now, it was second nature for Torvik to have Ionera by his side. It was equally as natural for him to feel his darana’s swinging freely as he ran along and the breeze caressing all of his bare body. The sight of the nude 18 year old next to him caused his dox to gently stir as he ran, making it bob from side to side slightly. This caused Ionera to giggle and instinctively lick her lips approvingly. Within a few moments, they passed the triangular stone archway separating the garden chamber from the area immediately preceding it. To say that it was impressive would be an understatement. There were row upon row of strange plants growing inside, similar to what one might find in a greenhouse on Earth. The temperature of the chamber and the humidity level did seem elevated, something which Torvik attributed to the same zim panels on the walls, but dismissed as a detail to be explored much later if at all. Most of the plants were shades of yellow, brown or gold, the normal range on Asharra but a few were reddish as well. Naturally, from this range of colors, Torvik expected that the bright green of the Oon would stand out, making the plant creature immediately recognizable. Unfortunately, this was not the case. This was partially due to the fact of the sheer variety of plants in the garden and the large size of some of them, which tended to obscure anything in the rear third of the chamber. However, after walking hand in hand with Ionera through a few rows of plants, it was evident that there was something else causing this frustration. “There is no green.” Torvik muttered to himself, “I can’t find the Oon.” 374

The Winds of Asharra Ionera turned her head and craned her neck, standing up on tiptoes to get a better look. “There...over there...” Ionera suddenly exclaimed as she used her free hand to point to the rear of the long rectangular chamber to its left rear corner. “That feels so good.” Torvik sighed, dazed for a moment before actually hearing her words. “Are you sure?” he said, following her towards her supposed discovery. “Come on...” she invited. “I think it is the Oon.” They took about a dozen steps forward, past several tall bushes with oval shaped leaves until what Ionera had spied finally came into view. The shape was indeed correct. The silhouette of the Oon was unmistakable. However, the color was shocking. “He’s grey.” Torvik sighed in a low voice. “He is dead.” Ionera took a step closer to examine the giant tree creature. Neither child sensed any thought coming from the Oon and there was not even a quiver of movement. “Touch him.” came a voice from over their shoulder. The naked adolescents turned their heads in unison to see Yavaran at the archway, casually twirling her long grey hair as her tail seemed to do a leisurely dance all its own. “Go ahead. “ she urged them both, “Touch him.” With more than a little hesitation, both Torvik and Ionera placed a hand upon the now ashen Oon. Without warning, the sensation of strong heavy bark under their twin palms turned soft. Without even the slightest of sounds, the Oon turned to dust and collapsed into a large pile before them, even collecting between the toes of their bare feet. “By the Asha!” Ionera exclaimed. “I was sure the Oon would be alright You practically 375

R. Leigh said as much.” Torvik angrily shouted to Yavaran. “Listen with your greater mind, not the impatience of your lesser one.” she instructed. “You are not on Earth now, child. Learn to accept what is natural, and what is mysterious.” “But is he gone?” Ionera asked. “Yes and no” came the elder’s reply. “Wait.” The adolescents waited for a few moments, as they shook the remains of the Oon from between their toes, and embraced each other’s naked body for comfort. Ionera felt like she was on the verge of tears and she could sense the tension and frustration in Torvik’s back and waist. He was battling inner rage and a sense of futility and self defeat. “There is no need for thoughts of failure. “ instructed Yavaran as she suddenly pointed towards the soil around them. “Look!” As rapidly as the Oon had turned to dust, there was a sudden stirring in the red soil. This was happening in several spots all at once in a circular pattern from where the Oon had been. For Torvik, the sensation was similar to watching popcorn beginning to pop. The movements under the soil were rapid and unexpected and followed no clear rhythm. Finally, just as kernels of corn ultimately erupt and finish popping, whatever they were witnessing came to a sudden and almost violent conclusion. Without warning, eight separate plants shot up out of the soil, each one of them about two and a half feet tall. Each one of them was bright green except for a tiny grafted yellow shoot at the top. All eight of them were miniature versions of the Oon, with the same number and shapes of branchlike upper and lower limbs. These were baby Oons. “We are born.” they thought at the trio in unison. “We are born at last. We are Oon.” 376

The Winds of Asharra Each Oon thought in the same stereo voice since each was both male and female, the same as the original. Each also possessed the grafted section eradicating the last vestige of warlike personality in the creature’s inner trunk.” “Will these new Oon eventually become just like the old one?” Ionera asked Torvik. “We are almost exactly like our Mother-Father, Ionera. “ all eight Oons projected to her. “They called you by name.” Torvik exclaimed, realizing at once the importance of this. “You are very wise young shoots.” the collection of Oon thought at Torvik. “We are only one generation from our Mother-Father so most of our memories come from them. We also have memories from many generations back though less from each one. We are the Oon.” “You are the Oon!” Torvik shouted with joy. They were different but they were also the same Oon whom he had grown to admire and consider a close friend and adviser. “We are grateful to you Yavaran for the opportunity for this and the insight on how to resolve our problem.” “What was your problem?” Ionera asked the group of tiny trees. “We became your friend.” came the simple reply. “It’s all a question of home and responsibility.” Torvik said in a small voice, acknowledging the similarity to his own problems. “Correct. We sought advice from Yavaran on this matter.” “And I told the Oon nothing.” the Asharran elder cackled cryptically. “For this we are most grateful.” the Oons thought at them. 377

R. Leigh “I think I missed that part.” said Ionera, clearly confused at this turn. “Yavaran reminded us that we are plant and not limited as you animals are. She was incapable of providing a solution since her solutions were all either or, not both. We are Oon and our nature is Both.” “So your solution was to have your cake and eat it too.” Torvik beamed. The silence in the chamber was evident, since no one, including the Asharrans or the group of Oon understood his words. He tried a second time. “You determined that you could stay and go back to your world to help your own kind.” “Yes. Your words are stable and have much weight.” the group of Oons thought. “Then at least one of you will remain here on Asharra with us?” laughed Ionera, clearly overjoyed at this conclusion. “Yes, half of us will remain on Asharra and the other half will return to our home world. Both groups will do what we do best. We will wait and reproduce, but at a much more slow pace.” “The Oon do not normally reproduce until they are much older.” Yavaran remarked, “that was one of the elements which caused the original Oon to forget this option. If he had waited, he would have simply made two offspring several hundreds of years from now and he would have continued to live out the remainder of his life.” “So he really did choose this option then?” asked Torvik. “Yes, “Yavaran smiled, “it is similar to forcing a plant to over bloom, making all of its growth go towards one end rather than allowing its inner sha to evenly distribute to378

The Winds of Asharra ward growing new leaves and branches. In the case of the Oon, it was a concentrated effort to will itself to reproduce now, even if it would utilize all the remaining sha in the original.” “But that means you were telling the Oon to act in a way that is un-Asharran.” remarked Torvik,” Even if it solved his problem, he was not following Uatu, focus without effort. The Oon took every last bit of effort inside him to do this, so much so that it exhausted his own lifeforce, his sha, right?” Yavaran laughed a gentle laugh at Torvik and tussled his hair with her hand. “How many times have you heard on Asharra that there are no absolutes here? Even in following the Uatu, there are no absolutes.” “The exception that proves the rule.” Torvik smirked, clearly starting to understand. “It was Asharran to spontaneously decide to act.” “Warm and Deep.” smiled Yavaran. “Those are the ways of Asharra.” “Why are you keeping half of you here, instead of sending all but one back to your homeworld,” asked Ionera, puzzled at the arrangement. “We have much to see of Asharra. “the group of Oon thought at them, “and perhaps four of us at different points around this world might have some seedlings of knowledge to share as well.” “You’re becoming part of the eco-system here.” realized Torvik, no different than any other Iramu. “That is correct, Torvik.” the Oons replied, calling him by name. “In this way, we will become part of Asharra and will evermore be known as the Green Tree, the only one of its color.” 379

R. Leigh “He’ll be able to survive here, right?” Torvik asked Yavaran, suddenly protective for his friend and concerned that his photosynthesis might not work as efficiently on Asharra. “I mean he is green, not gold or brown or red.” “He is Oon-Asharran.” Yavaran cackled. “The small shoot now grafted to each Oon will guarantee that he will be more than compatible with life here.” Suddenly, there was a small whooshing sound and a faint purple blur. The familiar sounds of a very happy la filled the garden chamber as Huff, the dreegin, flew inside the area and danced joyously in the air around them. It was clear from both his actions and his music that the small creature was both shocked and overjoyed at seeing the Oon again, and this time, having eight of them in all. “Are you all going to be completely identical?” Torvik asked, wondering how far the plant differences extended. “We are all Oon, “the collective group thought at him, “but once we separate either going home or setting out for different paths on Asharra, our own individual paths will diverge and change. In time, we will each have different experiences. In that sense, our memories will be slightly different and unique.” “So right now, all of you have the memories and feelings of knowing me?” Torvik asked. “Yes. We sense your thoughts, young Torvik. We eight have decided that of the four to remain on Asharra, one will plant roots between Asharra-kibur and this structure. The other three will scatter around the planet. Remember though, that if you encounter any of us, we will have identical memories and feelings of our first encounter with you. We are all Oon and we are your friend.” “See”, Ionera remarked to her mate, “this did not end badly at all for the Oon. It is even better than before.” 380

The Winds of Asharra Torvik smiled at her and completely agreed with her. He was, however, filled with bittersweet emotions since the difference between himself and the Oon was evident. He was not a plant. He could not have his proverbial cake and eat it too. The time was rapidly approaching when he would have to make his own decision, and right now, any outcome appeared to have an element tinged with regret and possible failure attached to it. Yavaran sensed this in the Earth-Asharran’s eyes and the sudden stoop of his young shoulders but said nothing for the moment. He would have his own opportunity for self discovery very soon. “Come”, she said to Ionera and Torvik,” There is something I want to show you before we rejoin the group. There are still many things you have to learn about Asharra.” “I will meet with when I return,” Yavaran said to the many Oon, “and we will send half of you back to Shellibak. For now, please feel free to absorb any nutrients you can from the soil. Will you require sunlight before your trip home?” “It will not be necessary.” came the collective reply. “The energy from our Mother-Father has created us full and sated. We will wait for you and select among ourselves who will go and who will remain.” “But I thought you were all the same until your memories diverged.” Torvik inquired, puzzled by this. “We are, but therein lies the dilemma since each of us would be content to choose one option or the other. Sending half home solves the greater problem but exactly which four of us, is a predicament.” Ionera and Torvik stared at each other. Neither had thought of that. Since they could not distinguish between the newly born Oon, they assumed they would be all think381

R. Leigh ing and feeling in unison. What happens when every member of the group is unsure? “We could play a game of shiny stones to help you decide.” suggested Ionera, attempting to be helpful. She concluded that logic was irrelevant in the decision since each of the Oon had exactly the same conflicting feelings to exactly the same degree. As they had not yet diverged, their problem was simply compounded. The group of Oon read her mind, discovering the basic rules of the game, wherein an Asharran would toss shiny stones on the ground and attempt to make a specific pattern around a central point. Those stones closest to the desired result would remain and the others would be tossed a second time. In this case, if they had eight stones, it would be a simple matter to toss to determine who would remain and who would go. The Oon reminded Ionera that grasping the stones would be a trifle difficult for their upper branch limbs, and requesting her assistance in this matter. They had decided that she should act as a surrogate for each of them, throwing the shiny stones on their behalf. “This would be most acceptable.” the Oon group thought at the Asharrans. A curious thought flashed through Torvik’s brain and was immediately retrieved by the cluster of Oon and met with much discussion among themselves. The telepathic chatter was so strong that there was even some unintended overflow, a sort of mental feedback which reverberated back to Ionera, Torvik and Yavaran. “What did you think at them?” Ionera, exclaimed to Torvik, “you made them upset.” “We are not upset...just engaging in a debate.” the Oon group replied. 382

The Winds of Asharra “Oow..my ears hurt.” cried Ionera, “What did you do, Torvik?” “Nothing important, “her young mate frowned, “I just wondered how we will be able to differentiate the four remaining Oon. I mean, we can’t just call them all the same thing, can we... Oon?” “You have confused them. “ Yavaran scowled, “If left to their own devices, they could debate this problem among themselves for weeks.” “My ears won’t last weeks.” Torvik moaned, agreeing with the Asharran elder. “Maybe we can name them.” Ionera grunted, as the pain in her ears increased. “No good.” Torvik countered, “They would just argue among themselves who would receive each name. Since they are still identical, there would be no preferences among them.” “Our apologies.” thought the Oon group. “On Shellibak, this matter would never occur. As we are all telepathic and truly know who we are, there is no need of names. We sense, however, that in order to remain on Asharra, a different solution will be required. Torvik, please think of the first solution you can, without giving it any extra analysis. Quickly, without any further thought.” The tiny Oon suddenly began to roll themselves into eight small darana’s and spin around in a tight circle. There was a momentary gap before they closed ranks and aligned themselves in this way. “Brilliant.” the Oon group thought. “It is unanimous.” “What is?” Torvik thought. The now contented Oons explained to the young EarthAsharran that he had perceived them lining up just prior to creating the rolling circle as a sequence of first through 383

R. Leigh eighth. Those designations would be the names of the Oon. “Are you sure about this?” chuckled Torvik, “Those aren’t exactly names.” “We do not require names.” the revolving group of Oon darana’s projected at them, “but those unique designations will enable you to tell us apart. Please return with the shiny stones and it shall be decided who departs and who remains on Asharra. “It wasn’t this complicated when there was only one of them, was it?” asked Ionera, to her mate, tugging on his shoulder. “No, I’m beginning to see the value in Oon diversity. When they are at this stage, all of them exactly the same, they can’t decide anything, except that they are stalemated in every decision.” “Fine, Enough of this, then, “Yavaran sighed, as she waved to the Oons to stop their movement and return to their more tranquil state in the garden. “We will bring you eight shiny stones when we return and then we will send four of you home.” She guided Torvik and Ionera to the appropriate inclined ramp which ultimately would lead outside the pyramid shaped structure out into the fresh air. The trio could still sense the excited voices of the eight baby Oons in their minds as they left the garden. They were trying on their new designations. “I am Second.” one Oon thought. “I am Fifth” another replied proudly. “We are all Oon.” they chimed together in unison. Yavaran cracked an odd smile as they walked along the passageways and then up the final incline. “Something funny?” Torvik asked. “They are quite different at this stage.” she smirked, 384

The Winds of Asharra “but I am sure they will bring their unique brand of wisdom to Asharra. That is why they were invited here.” Bright sunlight almost blinded the trio as they exited the pyramid and stepped out onto the soft golden grass outside. Both Torvik and Ionera independently concluded that the warm breeze felt wonderful on their naked bodies and each enjoyed the sight of the other. Yavaran traced her fingers through her long silver hair and then contentedly patted her dragon like tail, as it weaved about as though it had a mind of its own. Torvik noticed a small freestanding obelisk just to the right of the triangular opening of the pyramid-like structure. The shape was familiar to the Earth Asharran since it was identical to those on Earth, seen in Egypt and identical to the Washington Monument in the United States of America, four sided and pointed on top. Yavaran sat on a flat stone, raising herself up a couple of feet higher than Torvik and Ionera, who were enjoying sitting on the soft amber grass, their nude bodies lazily enterwined. The obelisk was only about six feet behind Yavaran’s shoulder. Even though it was only about eight or nine feet tall, the monument, along with the huge multistory pyramid behind her, helped perfectly frame the scene in Torvik’s mind. The purple sky, the two suns and the warm breezes made the atmosphere similar to a lazy summer afternoon in feel although radically different in appearance. “I will assume that you have picked up some bits and pieces of information along the way.” Yavaran said to Torvik. “Yes, we met a young nish named Theyna. She told Zoe and I a little about the Asharra-dobar and the lake but it only made us wonder more.” “The lake?” Yavaran sighed a sad smile. “Yes, so much 385

R. Leigh on this part of Asharra revolves around the lake but that is only a part of the story.” Without warning, there was a blindingly fast dash out of the pyramid by a small familiar purple object. Huff, the dreegin had located them and decided as dreegins are apt to do at the spur of the moment, to indulge his impulse and locate Torvik and Ionera, landing on her shoulder. “Now, that we can begin ... once again...” corrected Yavaran. “Be quiet.” Ionera whispered to the small single minded dreegin. Huff made a hushed la for them, a sort of musical accompaniment to the conversation. His leathery purple wings begin to flap in perfect time to his soft melody. “The Asharra-dobar is as you might have been told, an invitation to this world. It is sent out into the stars where it has been sensed that there is a potential for compatibility with the ways of Asharra and perhaps an opportunity to benefit both the guests, the Iramu, and the host who invited them to the weelu.” “How is this done? Who is behind the invitation and why?” the young teenager blurted out, as Ionera playfully tickled his ear. “Your world is apparently not known for its patience, “ Yavaran smirked, “but that is my own commentary.” “and how are we Meeru involved in all of this?” added Ionera, now licking the last drops of Torvik’s cum from her lips. “Now that is a deep question.” Yavaran smiled contentedly. Torvik frowned slightly, feeling that his questions were just as deserving. He attributed Yavaran’s actions to the pure and honest reaction of a grandmother and dismissed any childish thoughts from either of his minds. Torvik was 386

The Winds of Asharra at last beginning to distinguish between the passionate honesty of his dox mind, his inner tiger and the incessant insecure chatter of his head mind, his inner mouse. While the latter was clearly useful in a number of logical ways, his analytical mind was also very very shallow, as all are by design. That is why they are always referred to as the lesser mind, regardless of their proficiency in logic or deduction or even accumulated knowledge. Only the greater mind, the passionate inner tiger, brought creative wisdom and, through spontaneous action, true inner harmony and peace. Yavaran sensed this temporary unease in Torvik and did not call any undue attention to it. Of course, she had made deliberate reference to Ionera as a way to tease Torvik’s inner mouse, a way to encourage him to overcome this part of himself. “What are the three modes of life?” she asked. Torvik stared blankly as Ionera spoke up, like an eager Earth schoolgirl, armed with the correct answer and ready to please her teacher. “Animal, vegetable and mineral.” she replied. “But minerals aren’t really alive.” Torvik protested. “But they are.” Yavaran chuckled. “and they play a key role in the story.” Yavaran stood up for a moment and walked over to the obelisk behind her. She depressed a hidden stud in its side and casually removed a small bag from a hidden compartment on the base which was only opened due to her knowledge of the exact location of the hidden switch. She waved the small purple bag in her hand for a moment before returning to her seated position on the flat stone slab in front of the adolescents. The dragon-tailed Asharran elder opened the tiny sack to reveal four small pendants. Each one had a small red crystal suspended from what appeared 387

R. Leigh to be a silver chain. It was the first appearance that Torvik could remember of anything resembling a precious metal familiar to him. The red crystals were identical in shape to the obelisk and appeared to be of a similar material to the Red Fire doh-rah crystal which Torvik had left behind back inside the pyramid with the others. “This crystal is alive.” Yavaran smiled almost reverently. “and it is my friend.” “I don’t understand.” Torvik puzzled. “On Earth, we are taught that crystals are just an orderly pile up of molecules. Just because they look organized, doesn’t mean that they are growing as part of a living creature.” “And they teach you this on Earth?” Yavaran scoffed. “Nonsense.” “It isn’t nonsense. “Torvik protested, coming into conflict with everything his father and his world had taught him. “ Crystals are not alive. They grow only because molecules are deposited on them. They lack the capacity to seek out molecules to support their own growth.” “Then what is alive?” Yavaran smiled. “On Earth, we define all living things to have the following characteristics. They reproduce. They have genetic material to pass heritage traits to the next generation. They absorb nutrients and metabolize them for energy or parts. They are made of cellular material. They are hierarchical in nature with animals made of organ systems which are made of organs, which are made of tissues which are made of cells and so on. Also, they arise from other living things.” Torvik smiled sheepishly, realizing that his mini lecture made him sound similar to his father, the Professor. He felt as though he was defending an entire school of thought, the only school that was logical on this matter. “And what of the stars? Isn’t life change and everything 388

The Winds of Asharra changes?” interrupted Ionera, “maybe they are not like us but then again, maybe we are not like them.” Torvik shook his head. At this one moment, he was thinking completely with his inner mouse, and feeling much more like the old Victor, who relied solely on the logical and the precise for his view on the world. “Is there no room for wonder and awe in your world?” Yavaran smiled kindly. “Of course, but there is order and a known way of things even if we do not yet know it” “So, you admit you do not have all of the answers.” beamed the elder. “Of course not. That is what science is all about, the search for answers.” “Answers of life and death?” asked Yavaran. Torvik nodded, blankly. Ionera disentangled herself from him and sat next to him, alternating her gaze between her mate and Yavaran in this game of wits and perspective. “Has your world always known the difference between the two?” Yavaran probed. Sensing a trick question, Torvik answered in the negative. He admitted that at different times, there was a different definition of death and that regrettably, patients were declared dead by medical science of one time period, who really were not by definitions of another. He explained how definitions of death went from heart death to brain death in his time. The young teenager from Earth even recounted instances where people who were clinically dead for certain brief periods of time were brought back to life, since no brain death had occurred, even though their heart had stopped. Yavaran nodded silently and smiled politely and waited patiently for Torvik to finish before proceeding. “So the definition of death is dependent on the skill of 389

R. Leigh the one who defined it and the time period he was in, is that what you are saying?” “Yes,” Torvik replied without hesitation. “Would not the definition of life then be the same?” she asked. “Perhaps your definition lacks the same skill or is still in a much earlier stage of time?” Torvik stammered and stuttered but could not immediately refute her hypothesis. “Even if that is true, that does not necessarily prove that crystals are alive.” “As your earlier healers were just as certain as the definition of death.” she smiled. “Feel with your greater mind, Torvik, even if the thoughts do not stand together and link up the way you are accustomed.” “We call that a theory, “ he remarked, but even theories require some rough proof and testing to even be considered.” “Put this on for a moment,” she instructed, giving each of them one of the red crystal pendants, “but take it off as soon as I tell you.” The nude adolescents did as they were told, and each placed one of the silver pendants around their necks. The small red crystals in each of them seemed to catch the natural light in an odd way and almost sparkle and become warmer to the touch. “This is odd.” Torvik thought to himself, “but it doesn’t prove anything.” “I think it is strange too.” Ionera thought privately. The two teenagers suddenly turned towards each other, cognizant of the fact that they had read each other’s minds. “What is going on?” wondered Torvik inside his head. “I don’t know.” replied Ionera, without saying a word. “Help me.” a third voice almost too small to hear, 390

The Winds of Asharra whispered in their heads. Both adolescents bolted back in shock, stiffening their bodies in surprise. This was not the same as the telepathic message of the Oons. The voice they felt was far deeper and resonated inside their bodies, even though they could barely hear it. Each also heard the sound as if in their own voice but it was not their thought. It was not coming from them. “Remove the pendants now!” ordered Yavaran sternly, waking the two adolescents from their almost trance like state. “What happened?” Torvik asked. “Nothing to worry about.” grinned the silver haired Asharran, “especially since crystals are not alive, as you say.” Torvik wanted to reply but realized that it would be pointless. Instead, the look of frustration on his face slowly melted away as his inner mouse retreated to within the ear of his inner tiger. It had decided to withdraw since logic was obviously not winning the day. It needed time to think and analyze and plan and ponder because that is what mouse minds do. They never wonder and feel. “Now, perhaps I can continue.” Yavaran remarked serenely, in a tone similar to the way you’d ask if anyone would like a slice of pie. She shifted position on the flat stone in an effort to become more comfortable. At last, she concluded, Torvik would be receptive enough to listen with his greater mind and at least stifle his lesser one long enough for the majority of her message to come through. Yavaran smiled strangely at the adolescents, still being as crusty as three day old Firo bread, but inwardly hopeful that they would heed her words and arrive at decisions that would affect them all. 391

R. Leigh She told them a fantastic story about the history and the nature of Asharra, one which held the adolescents spellbound as time passed and stood still outside of the pyramid under the twin suns. Yavaran explained first how at one time, Asharra was very different that it was now. The climate was much more harsh, the animals and plants were unfamiliar and even the world itself felt hostile. Torvik at first reasoned that she was explaining simple geological history to them with some biology and evolution thrown in but there was much more to it than that. “Our ancestors had claws and fur”, she told Ionera, “and even tails, although not like the one I have now.” “Primeval cats.” Torvik thought to himself, “like our primeval simian ancestors.” “They ate the flesh of other creatures. In fact, most creatures devoured each other on Asharra at that time.” Yavaran continued. The look of pure horror on Ionera’s face said it all. Yavaran told of competing groups of creatures, apparently canine in nature who fought for dominance in the eco-system with the early feline Asharrans. Torvik thought it would be a simple tale of struggle and extinction similar to Neanderthals and Homo Sapiens but that was not the case. “We even developed waaduz, “ Yavaran explained, pointing to a glyph on the obelisk. “but we had not yet discovered the ways of Asharra. Our sha did not flow freely.” Torvik stood up for a moment and examined the glyph near the bottom of the obelisk. It appeared that someone had deliberately gouged out most of it but enough remained to be partially recognizable. “It looks like the creature is holding some sort of machine.” he cried. 392

The Winds of Asharra “Yes, “ Yavaran smiled, “if that is your word, yes, we had many machines. Silly empty things, we used them for everything, even to cause harm to each other when claws and teeth were not enough.” Torvik had never entertained the possibility that Asharrans had ever possessed any sophisticated mechanized tools. True, he had seen evidence of a sort of science that seemed based on weird chemical interaction between zim and crystals but no real evidence of what he would consider known science, no widespread machines. If what Yavaran was saying was true, the Asharrans were not pretechnological at all. If anything, they might be posttechnological. The concept mystified Torvik and baffled him since he had always considered the environment as the reverse. “You had machines...” he repeated again, seeing them in a new light. “Oh yes, and it nearly ruined us, as the secret legends go,” Yavaran confided to the pair, “I suppose we were like you in many unfortunate ways. Still, our own inner nature was always there. It just took the Eimiv to unlock it.” “What are the Eimiv? “ Ionera asked, “My father never mentioned them.” Yavaran stifled a broad laugh as she gazed at the naked 18 year olds before her. She snapped her sinuous tail absentmindedly, almost as a subconscious move to match the abrupt change in topic. “The Eimiv are part of the most basic mode of living creatures. They are mineral based, not animal or plant.” “Assuming that this is even possible, are you trying to say that the planet Asharra is itself conscious? We called that the Gaia principle on Earth, that somehow an entire planet gains self awareness.” 393

R. Leigh “Silly dox. That is not what I am saying at all.” Yavaran continued. “The Eimiv are not native to Asharra at all. In a way, you might say that the Eimiv was the first Iramu, the first offworld visitor to Asharra.” “So the Asharra-dobar brought the Eimiv here too?” asked Ionera. “No, no, no.” Yavaran frowned, realizing how hopelessly confused the adolescents must be. “The Eimiv arrived by itself.” “In a ship, a machine” “Of course not, Torvik. The Eimiv is a mineral, a crystal being, a rock. It learned to fly and sailed through the heavens and landed on Asharra.” Torvik knew that the silver haired elder had to be using poetic license. Obviously, the Eimiv, if it truly existed, was some sort of intelligent crystal being, perhaps attached to a passing comet or asteroid. Maybe the rock had been caught in the gravitational pull of Asharra and was ultimately drawn in. Most likely it crashed. Torvik tested this hypothesis. “Did the Eimiv choose to come to Asharra? Did they land without any problems?” Yavaran thought for a moment before proceeding. She scratched her forehead, as if attempting to recollect the exact phrase she wanted to use in this situation. “First of all, like the Oon, it is difficult to describe the Eimiv accurately since they are not animals, like us. Unlike the Oon, who are combined male and female beings, the Eimiv who came here was a single creature who separated into three pieces as he fell through our skies.” “It was some sort of crash. “ Torvik speculated. The teenager became excited as a few pieces began to fit together. The lake itself, the site of Asharra-kibur, was 394

The Winds of Asharra most likely the crater from the crash of at least one of these pieces. Over time, it became filled with enough rain water to become a lake. “But that must have happened millenia ago..” he thought out loud. “But what does this have to do with the Asharra-dobar and the rest?” “Let me continue and you might find out.” Yavaran curtly replied. “The Eimiv, or at least the part I know about, landed here and struck deeply into the red soil of Asharra. To understand what happened next, you must understand more about the three modes of life. Please explain what your mother and father taught you as a child, Ionera.” Wearing a broad smile and eager to show her knowledge for a change, Ionera began to instruct her mate. “I learned that every world in the cosmos might have examples of each of the three modes of life, animal, vegetable and mineral. A perfect world is one where all three modes are in balance and perfect harmony. Most worlds are not that way, unfortunately.” “That is true, “Yavaran interrupted, “ and that applied to Asharra. Here, the plant life had its sha more in balance with the larger Asha but the native mineral and animal life was shallow and empty. The arrival of the Eimiv changed that and started the process of balance which continues to this moment.” “Wait a minute...we’re going from history to philosophy...let’s go back a little bit “, requested Torvik. “Quiet your lesser mind and feel what we are saying, Torvik. The easiest combination of the three is a world where the mineral life is more advanced in its sha, its connection to the Asha. For those worlds, there can be greater cooperation because such things as weather and the placement of resources can be manipulated by the mineral life 395

R. Leigh for the greater good of the other two forms, the plant and the animal.” “Manipulated?” “Yes, Asharra was like this when the Eimiv arrived, greatly out of balance. However, in our case, it was the plant life which was the more advanced mode of the three. However, that is often the most subtle form since we animals tend to dismiss them as lower if we are too shallow. The plants on Asharra were the more advanced of the three forms of life but not as much as on the Oon’s world of Shellibak. Our trees were not independent and as wise as the Oon. They still are not which is one reason why the Oon became Iramu, why they were invited to the weelu.” “Are you saying that this crystal being, the Eimiv, is the one behind the invitations and the Asharra-dobar? Did the Eimiv terraform this planet?” Yavaran stared at Torvik and offered a small almost imperceptible smile in response to his question before replying. “We are grateful to the Eimiv for its assistance in balancing the sha of this world. Sometime after it arrived here, the Eimiv discovered that Asharra was grossly out of balance and it instinctively sought to help, because it perceived our world as empty, as grossly ill. It took more time than our words can describe but little by little, the Eimiv attempted to re balance the sha of Asharra. It began slowly by changing aspects of the natural world, it altered the energy and particles in the ground where it landed, and the air and water that touched upon it.” “It is terraforming the planet. “ Torvik gasped, “Asharra is like a living laboratory but made by a crystal.” Yavaran frowned suddenly and attempted to correct the misconception. She had accidentally led Torvik to believe 396

The Winds of Asharra that the crystal being was simply being altruistic or forcing some philosophy of its own on the planet. “It does not matter which of the three modes the Eimiv is, as its goal would be the same regardless. It is here to re balance each of the three modes of life here. However, all the Eimiv has done, is to fix a problem which it caused by its arrival here. Thanks to the Eimiv, our ancestors gradually changed. We lost our teeth and claws and even our tails, except for mine, of course.” she laughed, “but mine is special and not strictly Asharran.” “It’s a Meeru tail”, Ionera giggled, “a dreegin tail.” “Yes, but that is getting ahead of ourselves, child. Let me continue. When the Eimiv arrived on Asharra there was a great upheaval. The sky became dark from the huge amounts of dust and soil thrust up into the air. This killed much plant life. Worse yet, the force of its arrival caused many firestorms in different parts of Asharra. This killed not only plants but animals as well. Many that were not initially killed ultimately starved because the food on which they depended and the individual osharras in which they lived had been accidentally destroyed. There was much death and suffering all around Asharra and this continued much into the day.” “Similar to nuclear winter, or the arrival of the asteroid that could have eliminated our dinosaurs on Earth, “ Torvik speculated to himself. “The canine creatures who were in opposition to our ancestors had their civilization destroyed. They were meat eaters and refused to change when the supply of food dwindled down as a result of the firestorms and the dark skies. Our ancestors, Ionera, chose to adapt, and a few became vegetarians. These first few were the Asharrans called the Meeru, a group located here in Osharra-kibur. “ 397

R. Leigh “We are the earliest Asharrans?” Ionera asked, amazed at the thought. “In a sense, “Yavaran smiled, “but there is much more to it than that. The Eimiv sensed the scope of the destruction and death that had been caused by his arrival on this world. He sought to reverse this process and not only resolve the problems he had created, but to improve Asharra with his assistance, so that it would grow into something of almost perfect harmony, a balance between animal, vegetable and mineral. The Eimiv came from a world of only crystal beings. It did not know anything of plants or animals and so it was ignorant at first of how to help and reverse the damage it had caused.” Torvik leaned against his mate and placed his arm around Ionera. The combination of the clear and forceful tone of Yavaran’s voice and the actual content of her story, was beginning to overcome his scientific inner commentary. He was becoming enraptured by the overall story, regardless of how strange it sounded. The details even violated much of what he had been taught on Earth. His father, the professor, would think much of it to be purely preposterous. Then again, perhaps his father might be even more willing to embrace new theories after he was introduced to intelligent trees, giant blue bulls and orange feline beings with an almost mystical reverence for all that is natural and true in life. Perhaps his father might even be more accepting at this point if he we here. “Why couldn’t you be here now?” Torvik thought to himself privately, not noticing that Yavaran was studying the faraway look upon his face and slyly raising one corner of her lips in a knowing grin. Perhaps she sensed his turmoil at every point and was analyzing him as much as he was studying her and her world. 398

The Winds of Asharra “So the Eimiv is trying to set right all of the damage it caused by its arrival? That’s amazing.” Torvik sighed, in a tone revealing that he was now more impressed than disbelieving. “Yes, little dox. The Eimiv is just attempting to walk his own path and through Uatu, acting without prior planning, just attempting to do what is true and deep to the situation. He saw that he made Asharra empty and ill and has been trying to heal us ever since.” “What else has the Eimiv done?” Ionera asked, wideeyed, as she snuggled closer to Torvik, totally engaged with Yavaran’s words. “Look around you, little one.” Yavaran cackled. “This is all the Eimiv’s doing or the doing of that which he has set in motion. Like the Uatu, the Kokayniah of Asharra is upon the winds. It is not known. For every change which the Eimiv attempts, there are often little ripples in the path, alterations of the breezes around us.” “So the Eimiv isn’t perfect.” Torvik concluded. “It isn’t following any plan, even if it is attempting to fix things.” “The Eimiv is just another creature like you or I, Torvik, “the elder Asharran attempted to teach him, “ whether it is animal, plant or mineral does not matter. All have sha flowing through them, the same sha which becomes the Asha that flows in the winds of the cosmos. The winds of Asharra blow all around this world. It does not matter if you are plant, animal or crystal. The Eimiv is just trying to help and to teach all others to do the same. He is not working alone.” “He isn’t?” Ionera said, confused at this point. “No, child. The first animal he encountered that touched him were the dreegins, not the little ones like Huff here but the large mighty dreegins like my Yi and Ya and 399

R. Leigh their kind. At one time, they filled the skies of Asharra.” “They almost died out due to the Eimiv’s arrival?” Torvik guessed. “Yes, their numbers were greatly reduced but the Eimiv touched their minds and felt their wisdom and inner strength. They taught each other their respective philosophies and the ways of Asharra were born.” “Our teachings come from the dreegins?” said Ionera, clearly amazed. “Many of them, Ionera, “ said Yavaran, “but many things familiar to you such as the Doings were added when the first Meeru were contacted by the Eimiv, after he realized that animal life was intelligent.” “Excuse me?” Torvik asked, abruptly as his back and neck stiffened in shock at the Elder’s words. “Oh yes, the Eimiv originally wanted to repair the damage it had done to Asharra but it originally believed that the dreegins were the only beings it could communicate with, since they are still more advanced than us in several ways. It was because of this fascination with the dreegins that the Eimiv attempted to blend some of their energy and particles with other life on Asharra, to see if they could be raised up to a similar level.” “Genetic engineering and communication through biotechnology.” Torvik sighed, wondering how much stranger this could possibly become. “The results are as you see, “Yavaran continued, pointing to her tail. “All Meeru are descended from the original group of Asharrans who had a drop of dreegin blood mixed with their own. For most Meeru, this has no change and it has been that way for many generations. Sometimes, however, a Meeru is born in whom the dreegin blood is strong.” “A mutant.” Torvik whispered. 400

The Winds of Asharra “A Ray, our word for a gifted one. Ionera, Shiara and myself are all Meeru who are Ray. The drop of dreegin blood is strong and mixes with the primeval Gerh blood inside us. “I have never heard that word before.” Ionera said, “what is it?” Yavaran smiled broadly, and bellowed with laughter. “The Gerh are our other parents, their original particles carried along the native breezes of Asharra into our bodies. We have their eyes and their ears, except you of course now, child. Your ears are now more dreegin like. “The Gerh are the ancestral felines, the cats. “ Torvik grinned in admiration. Yavaran suddenly stooped down close to the nude adolescents and whispered in a low and strange voice “Would you like to see them, the new ones and the old?” “There are Gerh here? My father said that the original creatures that we sprang from were all dead.” beamed Ionera. “Oppapalo sometimes needs both hands to find his nose.” Yavaran chuckled. “but on this matter, it is not his fault that his feelings are shallow. There are still wild Gerh on Asharra on a few of the outer islands but I have a very special pair here and their offspring is even more special. Come with me!” Yavaran unexpectedly bolted from the flat stone and took both of the teens by the hand, only slowing down a beat to grab them before she took off into the forest with them struggling to keep up with her. For her age, she had the speed and uncanny grace of a primeval cat herself. The dreegin tail was not slowing her down a bit either. In fact, Torvik wondered if it was not providing a strange sort of balance, like a ship’s rudder, slicing through the air as she 401

R. Leigh ran through the trees. The trio darted from tree to tree in an odd zig zag pattern and Huff, the small purple dreegin followed them, flying overhead just above the treetops. The twin suns beat down on them and the trio were soon out of breath before they arrived at the edge of a clearing. Yavaran silently pointed to the far end, toward a rocky outcropping and what appeared to be a small cave entrance. There sitting in the mouth of the cave was what Ionera considered a living legendary fossil, a Gerh. To Torvik, however, this ancestor of the Asharran race, was both strange and familiar at the same time. “Incredible.” he whispered to the two nishs. “It’s beautiful.” “His name is Rokkan and he is one of the wisest of his kind.” Yavaran said in a low raspy voice, careful not to alarm the creature. There before them was something of a living paradox. To the Asharrans, it was their ancestor, natural and wise. However, in Torvik’s eyes, full of zoology and biology, it was the strangest great cat he had ever seen. The closest comparison would be the tigers of Earth, with the overall body shape and proportions roughly in scale. The size was about one third smaller though and leaner. It was almost as though someone had crossed a tiger with a leopard, whose kind were usually sleeker and thinner than the Earth tigers. The only apparent change that Torvik could immediately recognize was the color of the fur. Instead of the familiar orange, white and black, the strange tiger was green with orange and white stripes. Instead of claws, the creature had nails similar to those on humans, which was not obvious until Yavaran pointed it out. “Ah, yes, the color...”Yavaran laughed softly. “the 402

The Winds of Asharra original Gerhs were marked in colors similar to us and remained that way even after our kind descended from them.” “Why the green color then?” asked Torvik, totally baffled. “How did that come about.” “These Gerh are Meeru, like us, Ionera. They have a drop of dreegin blood in them as well. Supposedly, it was the blood of a rare green dreegin which was mixed with the original Gerh pair. The newest Meeru Gerh are both vegetarian like us and photosynthetic like the dreegins. With every generation from this original pair, they are more and more suited to gathering nourishment from either source. Most of these Meeru Gerh are simply green thanks to the original green dreegin.” “Most of them?” Torvik repeated?” “Ah yes,” Yavaran laughed. “Watch this.” She startled the teenagers by suddenly standing out in the open and clapping her hands. The long, lithe and powerful gerh named Rokkan stretched and stared into her eyes. There was an instant look of recognition and the creature rapidly rose from its comfortable position and ran towards her, roaring as it went along. Shortly thereafter, in response to his sound, a slightly smaller gerh followed out of the cave towards the Asharran elder. She looked over her shoulder and called to the adolescents. “Her name is Izeeru and she is Rokkan’s mate,” Yavaran shouted as she bent down on one knee and began to pet the large cat’s fur on the side of its head and neck. The mate, Izeeru, soon stood next Rokkan and rubbed its face against Yavaran’s nude body, washing the Asharran’s shoulder with her long wide feline tongue. “They are my joy,” Yavaran proclaimed with peals of unabashed laughter as the two creatures acted like a pair of over sized contented housecats, eager to see the human 403

R. Leigh who shares their life. “Where is he? Where is Paraaz?” Yavaran asked the mighty gerh’s looking them in their huge amber eyes. The male, Rokkan slowly raised his head and stared into the purple sky. At first, Torvik and Ionera thought that he was merely staring at Hush, the little dreegin, who was still flying overhead, at a safe distance from the considerably larger cats. However, Rokkan had now turned his head away from the dreegin and his mate, Izeeru, began to make the same general gesture, tilting her head to one side. For a moment, Torvik and Ionera were mystified and wondered what new secrets Yavaran had been keeping from them until they watched Rokkan utter a mighty roar. He stopped, waited a moment, and then reissued his summons. It took another few minutes but finally the command was heeded. “Listen, do you hear it?” Ionera squealed. “In that direction.” It echoed again and again except that it wasn’t an echo, It was a roar but it was the strangest feline roar that Torvik had ever heard. “No, it can’t be possible.” he chuckled to himself. “Keep your greater mind open to such things.” Yavaran shouted to the teenager. “Your life will be deeper and truer for it. Trust me, Torvik.” The sound kept repeating and changing. The roar echoed again and again, causing the purple dreegin to do back flips and somersaults in the air. Whatever was happening was driving little Huff crazy with delight. “This is totally ridiculous.” Torvik laughed out loud. “I love it.” Huff began to make a loud and joyous la. His melody was not original however. It was clearly harmony. The 404

The Winds of Asharra dreegin was singing in harmony with the roaring song of a great cat. The sound grew almost deafening in its deep base tones and the usual warm breeze turned unexpectedly cold as a sharp draft came up seemingly from nowhere. “There!! “ Ionera shouted. Torvik laughed out loud, as tears ran down his cheeks. He had seen many strange things while on Asharra and had his inner defenses, his nagging inner mouse constantly fight against them, with undue analysis. Finally, his lesser mind had surrendered. This was simply too much. “Any world that could produce this...” the teenager muttered to himself. He stared above at the uncanny sight and sound which surrounded them. There in the sky flying around the tiny purple dreegin was a large green tiger like cat with large blue leathery wings and it was singing. The thing was singing in a loud bass voice in the language of the dreegins. “It’s like he’s part dragon, part tiger... a drager!” Torvik laughed. “As good a term as any,” Yavaran chuckled to the Earth Asharran. “I did not wish to give a name to what he was other than to say that Paraaz is Meeru and Ray, He has dreegin blood and it is visible. He is unique.” “He is magnificent. “ Torvik cried out, mesmerized by the amazing sight of the flying beast. “He is like a dream come true.” “He is what he is and accepts himself. Do you understand, Ionera?” The 18 year old gazed at Yavaran, daring not to reply for lack of words. “Look up, Ionera... wait.... now....” Yavaran commanded. 405

R. Leigh Doing what she was told, Ionera saw the importance of the specific timing of the instruction. At the moment of the command, she gazed skyward and was cloaked in partial darkness as the drager flew overhead. Ionera suddenly smiled from ear to ear and giggled uncontrollably. Her mate, however, was totally oblivious to her revelation, as he was still captivated by the sight of the huge winged cat and its loud song which filled the air around them. “Do you understand now?” Yavaran yelled over to Ionera, bobbing her head up and down, nervous to hear if the wisdom had been imparted or not. “Yes! Yes!” Ionera shouted to Yavaran as she stared into the sky at the flying creature. Actually, it was not the newly named drager which Ionera was staring at, it was the shadow formed by its body and wings. The outstretched wings of Paraaz cast a large shadow which momentarily covered Ionera below on the ground. Only now did she realize that her own inner shadow, her persistent moodiness and feelings of never fitting in were related to this. Her shadow was nothing more than the perception of the dreegin nature inside her, struggling for acceptance and integration with her larger Asharran self. Her shadow was not to be feared. It was to be embraced. Without warning, Ionera ran up to Yavaran and the two great gerhs on the ground. Although it did startle them, they did not become aggressive or defensive in any way except to hunch themselves down for an instant, in surprise. Within moments, the naked 18 year old sprite was patting them as though they were giant friznaggles and best friends of hers. It would have been impossible to keep her away. “Torvik, come see them up close!” she shouted. 406

The Winds of Asharra Her Earth-Asharran mate needed little more encouragement and soon joined her and Yavaran enjoying the company of the two terrestrial cats. They purred loudly and rubbed their bodies against both of the adolescents, a clear symbol of acceptance. After a few moments, the winged drager, Paraaz, landed a few steps away. Looking every bit as majestic and mighty as any tiger, lion or eagle, the winged green drager flapped his wings three times before folding them against his body in preparation to join the festivities with his parents, Rokkan and Izeeru. “He is amazing.” Torvik beamed as he patted the winged creature on the head. “Put these back on “ Yavaran instructed, as she opened the small purple pouch she had tied around her waist. The teenagers again donned the red crystal pendants and stood there silent and motionless. To do otherwise would have been impossible. “Think only of Paraaz.” said Yavaran. “and repeat what you just told me.” “He is ... amazing.” Torvik repeated as he resuming the gentle stroking of the great cat’s head. “I am, aren’t I?” came a voice inside Torvik’s head. “It’s him, it’s him!” Ionera giggled. “Of course it’s me.” Paraaz thought at them. “And I am magnificent.” “We can understand him! We can read his thoughts.” Torvik announced, completely dumbfounded. “Paraaz has more dreegin blood in him than the other gerhs. You might be able to feel their emotions but the crystal enables you to understand what he is thinking.” “A little to the left.” Paraaz thought at Ionera as she tousled his fur. “Certainly, your magnificence,” she giggled with a 407

R. Leigh slight bow of her head. “Much better.” Paraaz loudly sighed in their heads. “You learn quickly. I like that.” “Thank you, Paraaz.” Ionera cooed. “My name is Ionera and this is my mate, Torvik.” The great cat bowed its head in a mock salute and licked its chops. “The sunlight is especially tasty today, good for sleeping and eating.” “More la’s ... let’s make more la’s” came another voice. “It’s Huff!” Ionera exclaimed. “I can talk with him too!” “I want to make more la’s with Paraaz.” the dreegin sang, “his harmony is wonderful.” “Thank you, Yavaran.” Torvik said, filled with pure gratitude. “I still have many questions but what you have done today for us is amazing.” The elder Asharran snapped her dreegin tail against the ground in surprise. “I did nothing, shallow one. Just be true to your greater mind. Give your lesser mind a rest. I think it is all you Iramu from Earth use. How you manage I’ll never know.” “I do have more questions..” Torvik chuckled sheepishly, as he continued to stroke Paraaz’s emerald green fur. “What a surprise.” Yavaran squawked, “I would never have guessed. Now, let us return to the Zaya. By now, I hope the others have prepared a feast for us. Remove the pendants and give them back to me.” She stretched out her hand and Torvik immediately did as he was told. “Aw.. I wanted to talk to Paraaz and Huff some more.” Ionera pouted. “They are not friznaggles that will disappear when the 408

The Winds of Asharra suns change position. The gerhs will be here in the cave.” Yavaran reassured. “I’m going inside with you.” Paraaz announced, before Ionera had removed her pendant. “He says he’s ....” “I know”, Yavaran groaned, rolling her eyes. “But Second Mother, how did you understand him, if you weren’t wearing a crystal pendant?” “These can be used for many things, my child. But as for speaking to creatures with dreegin blood, well, I do have enough dreegin blood of my own, you know.” She flapped her dreegin tail forcefully until it hit the dirt with a loud noise. “Paraaz is coming inside with us.” Ionera beamed, explaining the situation to Torvik, who had already given back his pendant. “Sounds great to me.” he smiled, amazed at the impressive sight of the creature. The trio, accompanied by the dreegin and the drager, turned around and headed back towards the obelisk and the archway, the entrance to the pyramid structure called, the Zaya. “There had better be enough food at the feast for me.” Paraaz purred as he walked half a pace ahead of Ionera and Torvik. The young drager, the only one of its kind, had already decided that it wanted to adopt the bonded pair of two-legs as siblings. The drager had grown up alone and was desperate for companionship. Yavaran had proven to be a worthy friend but she had a crusty scent, in the mind of the winged cat. These two new friends smelled of love and adventure, and the drager wished to learn more of both. Ionera stopped without explanation and bent down a few steps from the entrance arch. She smiled at Yavaran, as if to resolve a minor effect of the elder’s age, and pro409

R. Leigh ceeded to retrieve eight shiny stones from the ground. The lot were clearly intended for the doing which would result in returning four of the Oon to Shellibak. “How could I have forgotten?” Yavaran gasped in both surprise and shame. She extended her hand to the little nish, received the stones and stamped her dreegin tale upon the ground, apparently in frustration at her apparent lapse in memory. “It’s easy to forget when you are surrounded by the gerh.” laughed Ionera, with no trace of disapproval in her young voice. “I did it all time time whenever I was near the friznaggles. I guess we both love the creatures of Asharra.” “We have a lot in common, little one.” Yavaran sighed softly. “As you are, Ionera.” Torvik stared up at the pyramid shaped Zaya as he stood in front of its arch like opening. It was a fraction of the size of the pyramids on Earth but difficult to approximate its height because there was no frame of reference. It certainly towered over the nearby trees but how tall were they compared to Earth trees? Torvik was beginning to think less of these comparisons but still harbored a few last lingering opportunities for cross cultural study. “I can’t tell how many levels there are since it doesn’t seem like there are window cut outs on each level.” he muttered to himself, loud enough for Yavaran to hear. “Nine levels, you could have counted the number of inclines.” “But I hadn’t been to the top yet, “he grinned, gesturing towards the top of the structure, a red crystalline capstone, covering the triangular top of the pyramid. “You will soon, “ smiled Yavaran, “ That is the chamber where we will observe the four Oon return to their homeworld.” 410

The Winds of Asharra “Right now?” Ionera inquired, as she petted Paraaz on his shaggy green furry head. “As soon as I retrieve their Asharra-dobar from the library.” came the response. “You still have their Asharra-dobar?” asked Torvik. The silver haired Asharran licked her lips and parted them in a confusing smile. bewildering the adolescents. “I have all of them.” she smirked, “even the one which brought you here from Earth.” “How do they work?” Torvik asked. “Surely, you must know.” “Of course I know.” Yavaran grinned, “Just let me look in on the others first and I will tell you. We must see if the preparations for our feast are finally underway.” Torvik was more than a little frustrated and annoyed by this remark and it showed upon his face. It was inconceivable to him that Yavaran should have her priorities so distorted as to place any simple preparations for food before these mysteries in importance. From the elder Asharran’s view, however, it was all a complicated maze she was leading Torvik through, sometimes deliberately annoying him, other times enticing him, but always with the intent to shatter his Earthbound ways of thinking. It was similar to the surprise that he had received when he was with Zoe and was speaking to Theyna about the winding paths that the Asharrans had created between the various settlements and cities. Although Torvik had learned that the Osharras could vary widely in size, the paths always seemed about the same width and never seemed able to accommodate large enough numbers of Asharrans should there be any large scale migrations of citizens from one Osharra to another. Similarly, they weren’t constantly clogged with Asharrans transporting trade goods for barter 411

R. Leigh from one Osharra to another, although Torvik had been informed that this did indeed occur on a regular basis. It was just that the concept of home, so central to Asharran culture, was having an effect on behavior in a way not familiar to Torvik. Even when recalling that there existed three different words for home (Ishanna, Osharra, Asharra) which corresponded to inner and outer locations ranging from one’s mental perspective to one’s planet, Torvik was puzzled. The Asharrans loved the concept of the diversity of life and the surroundings on the planet but were not in any great hurry to visit all of it. This was not due to any attempt at duplicating the culture into little cookie cutter copies, scattered around the planet as well, such as the eerie similarity of all of the shopping malls on Earth. No, the Asharrans knew that the various Osharras on their planet were unique and excitingly different but only a few ever set out at one time to seek them out and explore these differences. It wasn’t that the Asharrans weren’t curious or even that they were all homebodies, content to observe the same routine day after day. It was more a case of relying on chance, circumstance and serendipitous events to effect their lives. They planned when absolutely necessary but the vast majority of the time relied on the fabled winds of Asharra to carry them along the path, their personal and collective Kokayniah. If that led them half way around the planet or to the next Osharra or merely to the center of the local community, that was acceptable and wonderful for the moment. In this way, the Asharrans almost welcomed the sense of ambiguity and spontaneity of their individual paths. At any given time, a number of them might be traveling about, but this sense of living in the moment was still incorporated into their play as artisans, craftsmen, gatherers of food or 412

The Winds of Asharra makers of song or story tellers. Since occupations were viewed as fluid things, subjects of bliss to be followed rather than something to do to raise currency (which was non-existent), travel and exploration were just one more option for self expression along the path. Although travel was more possible for the average Asharran than the average adult person on Earth, it was less pressing or urgent since it wasn’t viewed as a vacation from a humdrum mundane existence and for most, not required for their daily lives. It was just another possible outlet for expression and exploration of their sha. So, there was no need to enlarge the winding paths of Asharra into paved roads since life and lifestyles were so unpredictable. This was welcomed since there was no need with a decentralized bartering system to create and maintain some sort of centralized economy. If Asharran life seemed unpredictable and simultaneously consistent, it was. It was as simple and natural and could be and this vision of life, was precisely what Yavaran was trying to instill into Torvik’s cluttered minds, competing for attention with his views of the upside down life on Earth. To Torvik, there were hundreds of competing priorities and duties and responsibilities. To Yavaran, those could easily be whittled down to a bare minimum guaranteeing that you would be true to yourself, and your mate. Thus, if you followed the ways of Asharra, would almost automatically result in deep feelings and actions toward all life on Asharra. Yavaran correctly regarded Torvik as Earth-Asharran, due to the influence not only of his experiences and knowledge gained on Earth but more significantly as a result of his lingering Earth like perspective. This view was, to Yavaran and all Asharrans, shallow at best and empty and 413

R. Leigh harmful to him at worst. The Earth perspective almost always put the chatterings of the head mind, Torvik’s symbolic inner mouse first. It was a world based on logic and order and duty. It was a worldview built on guilt and shame and measured distinctions rather than panoramic diversity. The Asharran elder was doling out knowledge to Torvik, a proverbial spoonful at a time but also doing it in such a way as to confuse and confound his inner mouse, to upset his Earthly priorities and sensibilities. “I don’t know what you will enjoy more,” she cackled to the child, “my delicious food preparation or the secrets I will tell you.” Torvik looked down at his bare feet and frowned slightly. His young mate, Ionera, noticed that his actions were being keenly observed by Yavaran and pinched him in the tezz to reflect this. “Ow..” Ionera widened her eyes and attempted to tilt her head imperceptibly towards Yavaran, to make a silent point to her mate. She did not notice that the silver haired nish was trying desperately to stifle a laugh. In her mind, this silly behavior from both of the adolescents was becoming a comedy of errors, although the stakes could not be more serious. Yavaran sighed quietly to herself as she observed the two young lovers before her. Ionera reminded her of herself in many ways, at a much younger age of course. She had the same warmth but also the persistent quirky nature which Yavaran hoped her second daughter would come to cherish as a trait as bright and comforting as the warmth of the twin suns in the sky. Her passion for life was obvious, even at this age and that made the elder happy and proud for her. On Asharra, such pride was a natural thing, not 414

The Winds of Asharra something to be hidden away since it blossomed without any regard for competition. It existed as a celebration of something for its own sake, not in a competitive way, for there was no sense of completion in the ways of Asharra. There was only the delight in discovery. The two legged trio, not counting the winged green tiger and the ever present small dreegin named Huff, entered the pyramid shaped Zaya and Yavaran immediately began issuing commands to the adolescents. She instructed Ionera to take Paraaz into the dining area on the second level and to ask Shiara how the preparations for the feast were progressing. The naked orange gothic pixie was to report back to her after leaving Paraaz in the care of Shiara, assuming the creature was willing to comply. The drager’s personality made its cooperation an iffy matter at times but fortunately, the present circumstance involved food, one of the Paraaz’s joys of life. He would most likely be compliant for the moment. At this point, Ionera was to go to the Garden, determine which Oon were going where and accompany those four that were departing to the top most level of the Zaya. Meanwhile Yavaran was going to take Torvik to an unnamed location within the pyramid to retrieve the appropriate Asharra-dobar and unknown to the unsuspecting teenager, continue his Asharran education in unlearning Earthly ways. The instructions seemed haphazard at first but they actually had more than enough substance to qualify as a plan in Asharran terms. They could be altered and manipulated any number of ways and still, according to Yavaran, things would most likely turn out fine, depending on what the eccentric elder’s definition of that word was. Ionera dutifully carried out her tasks with a newfound extra spring to her step as she darted through the Zaya. She 415

R. Leigh was like a naked sprite in motion, happily zooming about. Her nude body pranced along the halls with Paraaz more than willing to display his prowess at pretending to stalk, run and chase her. If Torvik had been there, he most likely would have confused the sight with equivalent behavior on Earth, seeing ferocious behavior where none existed. The only stalking and chasing that Paraaz usually did involved playing with both sizes of dreegins and dragons in the air and chasing Asharran creatures on the ground like friznaggles and serooxa, neither of which completely appreciated the impromptu game. Paraaz did not have to be introduced to the dining area since, unknown to Ionera, the emerald cat had been a regular guest there and a frequent companion for Shiara whenever she was sad or lonely. Her mother immediately pointed a finger at Paraaz and ordered him, in no uncertain terms, to refrain from eating everyone’s portions of food before they were served. The cat attempted a few giant purring sounds as if to win sympathy but, seeing that effort did not produce any tangible results, decided to curl up in a corner of the room, on top of a pile of looshie cushions. This proved to be the only unexpected turn of events prior to the meal since Wole was completely unaware of Paraaz’s presence when he re-entered the dining chamber, having gone off exploring the rest of the pyramid by himself. Eager to rest his large blue frame after his walk, the large bull did not pay close enough attention to the pile of cushions in the rear of the chamber or he would have noticed that what appeared to be an unusually large green one actually had four legs, a head and two wings attached, When the two beings nearly collided, there was a thunderous commotion that was heard on multiple levels of the Zaya both above and below the dining chamber. 416

The Winds of Asharra “He nearly bit me!” the large steer yelled to Shiara and Oppapalo as they were beginning to bring bowls of fruit and vegetable stew into the chamber from an adjoining room. “The horned two-leg nearly crushed my head.” Paraaz roared, in a voice that was only understandable to Shiara, thanks to her shared dreegin blood. Her rows of scales shook and shimmered as she laughed at the indignation of both parties. Wole appeared apprehensive and more than a little concerned about the proximity of Paraaz’s teeth, something which Shiara found amusing, knowing that the cat was a confirmed vegetarian, when it wasn’t gobbling up sunlight. In turn, Paraaz was highly offended that Wole had apparently chosen to place his large blue tezz on his head while he was settling in for a nap. It was shallow and petty but somewhat consistent for the large winged cat. Shiara and Yavaran had no idea if the somewhat self centered personality of Paraaz was something due to the addition to the dreegin blood to his gerh heritage or just an unexpected side effect or most likely, something unique to the cat himself. It was exasperating, annoying, interesting or part of his charm, depending on the situation and which sun was in the sky at the time. “I told you about him before you decided to explore that Zaya.” Shiara reminded Wole, pointing to the green drager who even now, was attempting to restart his nap. “You never said he’d be hiding in here, lying in wait for me.” Wole protested, as he snorted loudly, unconcerned whether or not it would disturb Paraaz’s attempts at slumber. “He was not waiting for you.” Shiara laughed, “He was just relaxing.” “He does it ... provocatively.” the steer replied, refusing 417

R. Leigh to surrender his position. “I thought there wasn’t anything on Asharra that you feared.” Oppapalo chuckled to Wole, now clearly regarding the steer as something approaching a friend, at least a cautious friendship. “I am not afraid of that ... creature.” he bellowed, letting out another indignant snort. Paraaz chuckled to himself and suddenly raised his large head, opened his mouth as if to yawn, but instead abruptly changed his mind and released an unexpectedly roar which echoed off the smooth stone walls. Wole was immediately startled, not anticipating either the loudness of the sound or the abruptness of the cat’s change in body posture. This caused both Shiara and Oppapalo to erupt with obvious and hearty laughter, much to the bull’s clear dismay. “I would check your looshie cushions before you rest your tezz upon them from now on.” Oppapalo chided the bull. “See.. he agrees with me. “ Wole boomed, “The gerh should eat outside. He is ... unpredictable.” Ionera had stood there silently during the exchange, keeping her nude body almost perfectly still, much to her parent’s surprise. The words of the blue bull, however, demanded a response. “Paraaz was just frightened. “ she attempted to explain, “He is probably as afraid of you as you are of him.” Wole snorted in disgust at the remark and scowled in the direction of the green drager. Paraaz decided only to yawn, having determined that one roar was enough for the day. It was still impossible for the group to convince Wole that the cat was not showing his teeth as a threat and they reluctantly decided any further attempts at encouraging a 418

The Winds of Asharra friendship between the two were impossible at this point. “Yavaran is going to help send some of the Oon back to Shellibak. There are eight of them now.” Ionera told the group as Wole retreated to a place behind one of the low tables, a location where he could keep an eye on Paraaz but at a safe distance. “I knew that the path of the Oon would be filled with wonder.” Oppapalo beamed. “I will even admit that my mother may have been helpful in some way.” “Don’t let her hear you say that, my mate.” Shiara smiled slyly. Oppapalo leaned over to Shiara and placed his arm around her naked body. She immediately placed the tray she was holding on one of the low dining tables, in anticipation of the touch of his skin. Shiara was more than pleasantly surprised when Oppapalo passionately kissed her on the lips and inserted his tongue deep into her mouth. Catching on quickly, she reciprocated the action with no encouragement. “It’s called kissing, an Earth custom.” explained Oppapalo. “Torvik and I do it all the time.” Ionera beamed, as she casually dropped her hand to a warm spot between her legs. “And you should. It goes well with many things” her mother, Shiara remarked, as she placed her left hand around Oppapalo’s dox and began to play with him. Oppapalo instinctively grabbed one of the globes of her bare tezz and began kneading it vigorously. Ionera watched her parents and smiled broadly as she began to openly masturbate herself in approval. From across the room, Wole sighed to himself. “I should have brought Theyna.” he grunted. The blue bull watched the three orange skinned Ashar419

R. Leigh rans, the adults and their child, pleasure themselves and he snorted twice to get their attention. “When will it be time for the feast?” he bellowed. “Whenever it needs to be.” Shiara panted, as Oppapalo began inserting his finger inside her now eager and moist nish. Ionera suddenly found her sudden concentration broken. She reluctantly stopped playing with herself and prepared to dash out of the dining chamber. “I’m supposed to get the Oon’s....and get them ready...” she cried, as she rapidly bolted from the room. Her parents only nodded and continued enjoyed each other. Hearing no immediate response, the 18 year old looked over her shoulder, and gazed at the sight of her mother happily sitting astride over her father on the floor. Both were grunting and groaning happily as they fremmed with obvious abandon. Shiara repeatedly bounced up and down, impaling herself on her mate’s dox, suddenly leaning forward enough to kiss him on the lips. “This came from Earth....” she smiled as she thrust her tongue into Oppapalo’s open mouth and crushed his lips against hers. “Yes...” he replied in an obviously muffled way. Shiara reared back for only a second, smiling at the Asharran she was proud to call her mate “No matter what wisdom, arrives on Asharra from Torvik’s world, this will become part of the doings of all Asharrans. I am sure of that.” she cooed. “Why did we not think of this?” “Our daughter has told me that Torvik believes it has something to do with the fact that our ancestors, the gerh, do not have lips.” Oppapalo remarked as he groped both globes of Shiara’s orange tezz, as they continued to fremm 420

The Winds of Asharra with an uneven start and stop pace in order to prolong the experience. “I miss Theyna.” Wole groaned softly from across the room. He enjoyed watching the activity of the bonded couple and attempted to relieve his own frustration but in this case it was not the same. He and Theyna had sampled this Earth custom called kissing and had decided it was a very pleasurable addition to their fremming. Wole reminded himself that he would ask Torvik if there were any other Earth customs that he could demonstrate with Ionera that perhaps could be added to his activities with his mate to be. “Are all of the Asharra-dobar’s in this chamber?” Torvik asked Yavaran as he scanned the rows of crystalline cubes resting in long indentations on the walls, like built in bookshelves in a surreal library. The silver haired Asharran was clearly in her element in the cluttered chamber. The walls were filled with cubes of various colors and the rest of the room was bare except for a lone plain square work table and two stools next to it. There was no ornamentation in the room, neither tapestries or sculptures or drawings of any kind. That was not its purpose. In Earth terms, it might have been considered a study or a library of sorts. In Asharran terms it was a dobar chamber. “Yes and no.” Yavaran replied as she began to scan the cubes, searching for the particular one she wanted, initially without success. “Of course.” Torvik joked to himself, “I should have known. Let me try again.. “ “The cubes of those Iramu who have returned to their homeworlds are gone. They turn to dust as part of the process.” “Really..”Torvik replied, finally confident he was re421

R. Leigh ceiving answers. “How many decide to go back?” “Not many” Yavaran shrugged, “Their paths are all different but most begin a completely new path here on Asharra. I do not know of any one who has resolved the question of whether to leave or remain in quite the same way as the Oon.” “By doing both.” “Yes”, she smiled. “We have not received many plantbased Iramu. I suppose most plant beings are either not in harmony enough to accept the invitation or do not require the invitation in the first place. Perhaps, their way is naturally more harmonious and their sha more vibrant and flowing.” “But still, all of the cubes of those who stay are here..” Torvik pressed. “Oh, but not in this one chamber.” Yavaran replied, as she playfully raised one eyebrow. These are just the recent ones, from my time as a Rohulu.” “Do all Rohulu, all elders, know of this?” “Silly dox. You already know the answer to that from your time with little Roqueetalu.” “But he never said anything exactly that ...” “Did he have to?” Yavaran cackled. “Even if no one has spoken to him, little Roqueetalu must have very interesting dreams. One day, when he is older, he will come here looking for answers such as you are but also bringing new answers of his own, I hope.” “And the lu’s, the experts in their fields, they don’t know these things, right?” Torvik continued. “There are lu’s and there are Rohulos “ chuckled the dreegin tailed elder. “They are different paths for almost all.” “No absolutes..., I know. “ Torvik groaned. 422

The Winds of Asharra “I am not trying to be shallow, little dox. Ask your real questions.” Torvik held his breath for a moment, attempting to synthesize all of his questions into a precious few which would convey the essence of everything. Finally, he began, but not without one last verbal caress from Yavaran. “It is a long path you walk, Torvik and one without its direction clear to you. That is not an empty thing, no matter what you may think. If you and your friend Zoe had been perfect future bonded ones, the Asharra-dobar would have opened to you, revealing the contents within and it would have taken you here inside the Zaya instead of depositing you outside. We would have been having this conversation the moment you arrived.” “First, I want to know why beings are being brought here, really, aside from the weelu explanation, that is one big family reunion.” “But it is ...” Yavaran smiled sincerely. “Second, “Torvik continued, unable to contain himself any longer. “ I want to know if my destiny or Kokayniah to you, is truly here or on Earth. “A deep question for any Iramu” she whispered. “Lastly, I need to know if there are any restrictions on Iramu or even non Iramu coming and going to Asharra.” Yavaran’s eyes widened and she tilted her head to one side and scratched an imaginary itch on the side of her head. She was actually deliberately pausing, watching Torvik’s reactions to all of this. She was trying to measure his ya-sha or masculine dox essence and determine how healthy his sha was since the determination would be crucial depending on the answers she gave him. “Your questions are not shallow but you line them up like stalks of Riksamo roots, neat and tidy, ready to be 423

R. Leigh chopped into bite size pieces. If you really desire that I answer that way, I will.” Torvik was temporarily at a loss for words. He did not know whether or not he had been complimented, insulted or just patted on the head. In the end, it did not matter to the 18 year old. He was just out of patience. “As to your first question, “Yavaran began, inhaling deeply and staring into the young dox’s eyes dramatically, “I can tell you this. The Iramu are guests in a weelu, a family reunion. The host is the Eimiv, who is himself, the guest of honor since he was not native to Asharra. The Eimiv, with the help of the dreegins and dragons, is bringing other creatures to Asharra to assist in rebuilding the damage he originally caused when he first arrived.” “But how are we expected to help the Asharrans and why would he even think that we can or should?” Yavaran shook her head and paused for a moment, flicking her tail in uncharacteristic annoyance with the teenager. “As I said before, the Eimiv is a crystalline being. He is not familiar with plant or animal life except what he has seen here. The Eimiv is attempting to restore the balance of life on Asharra and improve upon it but he has had great difficulty doing this.” “Humpty Dumpty.” Torvik laughed quietly. “It’s nothing more than Humpty Dumpty.” “Who is this?” Yavaran questioned. “An old Earth nursery rhyme, a poem for adolescents about a creature who became broken...Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again. The Iramu are like the king’s men and the king’s horses trying to put Asharra back together again.” 424

The Winds of Asharra Yavaran watched for a moment as Torvik laughed nervously at the simple irony of the situation as he perceived it. “The Eimiv is like your Humpty Dumpty as well. He was broken into several pieces when he arrived and those pieces will never be rejoined. In his case, it is does not matter so much, so long as the pieces are healthy and can speak to one another.” “So the Eimiv was the one crying out for help when I put on the crystal necklace.” “Yes, I hear him every time I wear the necklace. It is made from a pure piece of him, not one mixed with the elements of Asharra, the way the Asharra-dobar is.” “We’ll get back to him in a minute but about the Asharra-dobar... what is inside and how does it work?” Torvik asked in an almost clinical manner, afraid of getting hopelessly off of the track. “As I told you, the Eimiv discovered the giant dreegins, what you call dragons first as being animal life wise enough to communicate with him. He was desperately sad over the death of so many of the larger creatures, the ones you call dragons, so that he modified their energy and particles through elements in the air and sunlight which they fed on, to produce the smaller dreegins. The tiny ones could survive in smaller places around the planet while the firestorms which raged all over Asharra continued before finally burning themselves out. It was only then after the alteration of the large dragons into dreegins, that the first surprise occurred, the discovery that the new dreegins could make la’’s that could heal other animals. The Eimiv was trying to repair the damage it had caused but in doing so, he was discovering that serendipitous events were also assisting in this manner.” 425

R. Leigh “Random mutations and natural selection,” Torvik mumbled to himself. He privately wondered how so much of those accidental changes could be so positive since most naturally occurring mutants in nature tended to be negative. It was almost as though for every conscious effort the crystal being made to make Asharra more harmonious, additional almost mystical reactions were taking place like random happy coincidences made by the creatures he was modifying. That was great except that there were no coincidences on Asharra. Torvik thought to himself if this was the special interaction of particles and energy which the Asharrans called the Asha, the thing which bound all life together and flowed through it as necessary as basic nourishment. Had the Eimiv stumbled onto some sort of creative perpetual motion process of self improvement of a planet? Instead of terraforming the planet, or Ashaforming it to be more precise, did the process somehow become cooperative along the way somehow? Were the creatures themselves altering their own evolution in sync with the Eimiv’s efforts, not just to create a better species, like they would on Earth, but to build a better, more harmonious planet? The idea was bizarre and amazing and exciting all at once. If it were true, it would mean that normal Earthly evolution was just a stage in a much large evolutionary process that only could begin when the lifeform, whether animal, vegetable or mineral, recognized the existence and importance of the other two types and began to work together with them, not in the interest of an individual species but towards a planetary harmony. Instead of one big intelligent planet, the old Gaia principle, which Torvik had heard bandied about on Earth, it appeared that the core of Asharran philosophy was the reverse a patchwork of inter426

The Winds of Asharra linked beings, like cells which worked in harmony. Perhaps, it was Gaia, after all, but without a single mind. “Perhaps” thought Torvik, with his inner tiger for a moment, “we are all Asharra, we are the winds that carry us.” Yavaran was aware of his brief pause and was familiar with the faraway contented look on his face, as evidence of his greater mind seizing control for a brief moment. She said nothing, but only coughed a couple of times, in an effort to see how strongly Torvik’s lesser mind would exert control. Finally, she continued her answer to his first question. “Even after the existence of the smaller dreegins, the larger dragons still lived on Asharra although greatly reduced in number to only a few handfuls. That was all the world could support. Both sizes of the creatures could communicate with the Eimiv, the dreegins through their la’s and the dragons through their low voices, which only the crystal being could sense. We Asharrans can not hear the voices of the large dragons and I rely on the small dreegins to translate for me.” Yavaran finally located the particular cube that she was searching for and placed it on the small square table as she sat down on one of the stools and motioned for Torvik to do the same. She moved her fingers over the carvings on the cube like a musician playing an instrument, absentmindedly but with obvious skill and familiarity. Torvik attempted to look at the carvings but it was difficult because the elder Asharran was slowly rotating the cube in her hands. Still, it was clear that the glyphs on the cube were different than the ones he had seen on the original one on Earth. Instead of symbols, the carvings looked like pictures. “Yes, you see the markings. We carve the first set of 427

R. Leigh symbols, anything we like, really, after the Asharra-dobar is retrieved from the lake. Only later do the symbols change by themselves into what you see now.” Yavaran recounted to the 18 year old. “Explain, please. “ he said, bluntly and honestly. “Well, it still all comes back to the dreegins and dragons and the crystal being, the Eimiv. With so much life on Asharra destroyed, the Eimiv felt that it needed additional diversity to thrive and become whole again. As a crystal, it was familiar with the existence of other worlds in the skies, far beyond the suns of yi and ya. Its kin were rocks that could fly.” “Comets and asteroids.” Torvik mumbled to himself.” “The Eimiv accepted a very special offer from the larger dragons and the smaller dreegins. The large dragons would willingly give up one of their eggs from time to time, even though they produced very few and the smaller dreegins would sing to it, not to encourage it to hatch, but to strengthen the sha, the energy within. The tiny dreegins would then deposit the eggs into the lake near Osharrakibur.” “The site of the original crash of this piece of the crystal creature.” added Torvik. “The eggs would sink to the bottom of the lake, and eventually become covered with the sediment and soil of Asharra and surrounded by the warm water, filled with nutrients.” “Like a rebirth.” whispered the Earth Asharran. “Eventually, the particles of the Eimiv, still present in the ground at the bottom of the lake would join with the living egg and cover it completely, fusing with it and changing it into almost pure sha, of a form almost as pure as Asha itself, with more power than either of the twin 428

The Winds of Asharra suns. The Eimiv would grow a container around the egg in order to protect it and to enable it to be carried from place to place.” “Like a pearl being created inside of an oyster.” Torvik mumbled to himself, as he began to understand the process. “When the Asharra-dobar was filled with enough sha, at levels of the Asha itself, it would float to the surface of the lake. There are some Asharrans who go out on the lake from time to time for the sole purpose of retrieving these Asharra-dobars.” “Why?” Torvik asked. Yavaran cackled. “My predecessors were told by the Eimiv that their help was needed in the process and we in turn convinced other Meeru who could swim well to retrieve the Asharra-dobars. Once this was done, they were sent to lu’s skilled in carving, just to make them objects of beauty and objects of curiosity.” “So inside each Asharra-dobar is a perfectly charged dragon egg at the center of some energy ball?” Torvik asked. “Inside all of them is this.” Yavaran explained as she touched a combination of glyphs, opening the outer cube. The box sprung open, revealing what appeared to be a crystal ball inside. When inactive, the color was transparent and quite familiar to Torvik as the subject of Earthly fortune teller’s efforts at foretelling the future. Was this another case of Asharran wisdom that was transmitted to Earth being distorted or partially forgotten? “You may touch it if you wish,” Yavaran said, “it will not hurt you in any way.” Torvik did so and immediately noticed that the surface was smooth and slightly warm to the touch. “So the life force of the dragon coupled with the energy 429

R. Leigh and particles of the crystal being are what make the Asharra-dobar work?” “As I have been told.” Yavaran nodded. “How does it transport someone from one world to another? For that matter, how does the cube even get from Asharra to these other planets?” Yavaran shrugged, indicating that there was a limit to even her knowledge of the Eimiv. Either she lacked the basic understanding of the complicated physics involved or the process just sounded a lot closer to magic when it was first explained to her. It did not matter so much to Torvik at this point. At last, though, things were starting to make some sort of sense, as much scientific sense as you can hope for when your theories contain elements of dragon eggs and crystal creatures, that is. Torvik’s inner mouse had a migraine headache for the record books while his inner tiger was jumping up and down with pure glee. “The cube is still here because the creatures that it transported are still here.” he repeated to Yavaran. “There is enough charged sha inside for two journeys only and only for the same creatures who made the first one.” Torvik frowned. He had not thought of that. It was as though the Asharra-dobar altered itself when it found a pair of creatures to transport to the planet, making it impossible for any others to make the return trip. “Wait a minute. “ he suddenly said, “That assumes that the pair that arrived in the first place was selected as a perfect match for each other. Zoe and I were not so things got fouled up. The Asharra-dobar did not open for us and it dumped us in the forest instead of taking us here. If Ionera is my true intended perfect match, my mate, could the Asharra-dobar transport her, instead of Zoe with me, back to Earth?” 430

The Winds of Asharra “I do not know.” Yavaran whispered in a sad voice, “it might work or it might not. It might kill her or kill both of you.” “And the same would apply to returning to Earth without Zoe, right? You don’t know how that would work since really we should not have been brought here in the first place.” “I did not say that.” Yavaran smiled. “I said that the Asharra-dobar had never brought a couple who were not a matched pair before.” “But why matched pairs at all?” asked Torvik. “Silly dox.” cackled Yavaran, “Have you learned nothing while on Asharra? You are incomplete without your other half. You are whole and yet not apart. You can only truly help Asharra if you are in total harmony yourself and that can not truly be done alone. The Eimiv did not know how to improve the animal and plant life on Asharra to make the world a perfect expression of Asha so it did what I do. Tell me, do you cook, Torvik?” The 18 year old thought of his experiences in the kitchen. Yavaran was not talking about his ability to cobble together items to survive, necessary since his mother was gone. She was referring to something else. “A little bit.” he replied. “Nonsense, I feel that you could be a great lu in this way, “ she laughed. Torvik recalled the odd properties of his zim upon the food he had tasted and wondered if she could be correct. Still, it seemed irrelevant to the discussion, and he wondered where she was going with this. “The Eimiv cooks with life, Torvik, “she smiled with honest warmth. “ Just as you must season your creations with spices and experiment until you find just the result 431

R. Leigh you wish, the Eimiv is doing the same thing. You are the spice of life in the truest of senses and your presence adds a unique flavor to Asharra, unlike any other spice, crucial to blending and creating a taste which will be pleasing to the lu who creates it.” “So the Eimiv is terraforming but instead of following some rigid plan, he is experimenting with a dash of this and a bit of that, “ Torvik gasped, “all the while some coincidental changes are taken place in the ingredients themselves. The stew is cooking itself while its being seasoned.” “Exactly.” Yavaran glowed, admiring his insight into the matter. “That’s crazy,” Torvik exclaimed, “but crazy in a way that would have made Einstein laugh out loud. It’s Zen and Cosmology all rolled up together. But what of the Eimiv, what does he believe?” “The winds of Asharra were strong enough to carry him here, were they not?” Yavaran chuckled, lifting an eyebrow. At first, Torvik did not grasp the full meaning of what she was implying but gradually the implication sunk in. “So maybe the Eimiv is so wrapped up in all of this that he is creating something larger and more grand than even what he thought possible?” Yavaran smiled, “The Eimiv only came from a world of crystal life just as the Oon came from a plant based world. Harmony is of a different sort when all three modes of life are not present. Here on Asharra. there are more possibilities and greater potential for stronger sha and even becoming the Asha that is already part of all life.” “So the experimenter is becoming part of the experiment too?” Torvik laughed to himself. “Are you trying to tell me that what began as an attempt to fix the destruction 432

The Winds of Asharra of Asharra’s eco-systems has somehow become for the Eimiv, a kind of mystical quest for evolutionary harmony and balance?” “Have you never created a dish that surpassed your expectations?” Yavaran smiled with wise eyes at Torvik. “But that is different.” “Is it?” she laughed. “Come, I will answer your remaining two questions but let us first return four of the Oon back to their home world of Shellibak. I take it that you would not mind seeing the Asharra-dobar at work?” Torvik knew that Yavaran was deliberately teasing him, being silly but in the best of ways. “I think I can be patient a little longer if it means seeing theory become reality.” “Good, “ she sighed as she closed the container and picked up the cube in her hand. “Let us pause our discussion and send some Oon on their way.” By the time that Yavaran and Torvik arrived at the small chamber of the Zaya on the uppermost level, Ionera had been waiting there with four of the Oon for several minutes. This was the result of two unexpected discoveries. The first was the realization that tossing shining stones to determine individual Oons’ fate was a far more intelligent idea than it had first appeared since the process went flawlessly. The second revelation was the fact that the new Oons were much faster propelling themselves around when in a ball-like form, than their predecessor, primarily due to the much smaller size and the resulting decrease in overall weight. The candidates for returning to Shellibak were the Oon’s designated Second, Fourth, Seventh and Eighth and they appeared perfectly content at this turn of events. They telepathically conversed among themselves from the mo433

R. Leigh ment the arbitrary decision was made, eager to resume a life on the faraway plant world and share their knowledge of Asharra. Still, it was the fact that each had been genetically altered as a result of the Asharran plant shoot, grafted onto each of them, that was perhaps even more significant The grafting somehow counteracted any lingering vestigial traces of their warlike past but it now appeared that it also served an additional purpose. Ionera examined the odd golden stalk on each of the small Oons and was surprised to see that each stalk now had a visible seed pod attached to it, a feature not part of the Oon anatomy. When she wondered to herself about this strange turn of events, the Oons replied to her in telepathic unison that it was an unexpected bonus and that they were grateful to the dreegins for locating the Asharran plant in the first place. “What will this do once you return to Shellibak?” Ionera asked the small group of Oon. “It will bring life.” came the reply. “It will assist in undoing the warlike damage which our kind and the Jurulamada caused in the Green Zone when all other forms of plant life were stricken from existence. The seed pod contains a mixture of native plant seeds from Asharra. None of them are sentient but perhaps in time they may become that way. We do not know. In any case, the shoot will restart the ecology on Shellibak, perhaps even extending it outside of the Green Zone, if the native Asharran plants prove even hardier than we hoped.” “That is warm and deep!” Ionera cried, happy for the four small plant beings. “Are you certain that you will be welcomed on Shellibak, though. Torvik told me what happened there and I was concerned about the reaction to your arrival since the others seemed so shallow and unhappy.” 434

The Winds of Asharra “It is because our kind have become sad and self destructive that we are confident that our arrival will be well met.” the Oon replied, “The memories of our MotherFather reveal that many Oon were secretly searching for some way out of their bleak existence and inwardly wished to abandon their warrior ways, regardless of what they told each other. Our arrival will provide an opportunity for both. In time, we will transform as much as Shellibak as possible and many generations of us will cover our world, attempting to contact the rocks and minerals and seek harmony with them as well. We never even suspected that they were alive which is unusual since we are Oon and we are normally very wise.” Ionera giggled and smiled at the quartet of plant beings. “Perhaps in time, even animal life might appear on your world as well,” she thought. “We did not consider that possibility. “the little Oons hummed to themselves. “The fact that there would even be possibilities on Shellibak again would be a wonderous thing.” Yavaran and Torvik entered the small chamber without warning or ceremony. The 18 year old immediately rushed to his young mate’s side and held her in his arms. “Is everything deep and true?” Ionera asked, sensing some bittersweet trace of worry in the look on Torvik’s face. “Yavaran has begun explaining the mysteries of the Asharra-dobar. Did you know the whole process is tied up with the dreegins and the dragons?” “No, but since their sha is so strong, it does not surprise me. “ She replied. Yavaran stepped closer to the four Oon and placed the Asharra-dobar on the floor in the center of the room. Over435

R. Leigh head, the entire ceiling was bright red, as it was the underside of the crystalline capstone of the pyramid like Zaya. “Based on what you told me just now, how can this work with only half of the Oon?” asked Torvik. “We have had very few Iramu that have been plant based, “ Yavaran replied, “and even fewer that have reproduced in a way that merely redistributed themselves into different packages. In a sense, these Oon are the original Oon and not just their offspring. Honestly, although I am confident that this will work, I can not be all together certain.” “That is starting to sound like her answer to everything, “ Torvik whispered to Ionera. Yavaran opened the cube and exposed the transparent sphere inside to the light. It glistened as the filtered sunlight arriving through the crimson crystalline ceiling pierced the sphere and was reflected back around the room at many different angles. “It is up to you now, little Oon.” Yavaran smiled as she slowly backed off from the group. “What happens next?” Torvik asked. “Something wonderful.” hoped Ionera. Yavaran signaled for the adolescents to be quiet and to step back as far as they could until their backs touched the walls of the chamber. Torvik and Ionera held hands and stood with their back to the South wall while Yavaran was directly opposite them, pressing her back against the North wall of the chamber. The Four Oon telepathically spoke among themselves for a few moments and apparently reached some sort of consensus because all at once, they rolled themselves into the by now familiar ball shape and began to spin in a circle around the Asharra-dobar. At first it was a wide circle and 436

The Winds of Asharra their movement appeared slow and deliberate, something not at all unexpected from the Oon. Then, over the course of a few minutes, the circle tightened closer to the Asharradobar and the speed of the spinning began to increase. It was at this time that Ionera, Torvik and Yavaran began to hear a chorus of voices in their head. It was the four Oon. “Home, home, home, “ they chanted as then spun around clockwise. Ionera turned towards Torvik and smiled broadly toward him. He did not return the gesture but instead clasped her hand tighter. “Asharra, Ishanna, Osharra.” the group of four Oon spoke, switching to Asharran terminology but still centering their focus on the concept of home. The spinning Oon increased their speed, achieving a velocity that none of the three non-plants present thought possible. As they spun faster and faster, it appeared that the light above, filtered through the red crystalline ceiling became brighter and turned the previously transparent sphere a bright luminous red. The orb pulsated and reflected the sunlight, sending it showering all around the small chamber. It reflected off of the adolescent’s naked bodies as well as Yavaran’s, apparently doing them no harm but instead casting them as crimson ghostlike beings as it illuminated them in beautiful and eerie ways. “Shellibak, Shellibak, Shellibak.” was the final chant of the four spinning Oon darana’s. Their speed was so intense at this moment that they became a blur, unable to be distinguished as separate rolling plant darana’s. The red light piercing the Asharra-dobar from above through the ceiling flashed brightly. The flash seemed to ignite the pulsating red sphere which was at the center of the Oons frantic dance. Four brilliant beams of 437

R. Leigh red light shot out from the orb and captured each one of the Oon. The light twisted and turned as the Oon continued to spin and its intensity increased until all those present with eyes, had to shut them to block out the light. Then in a silent flash. It was over. The room was silent and motionless. The Asharra-dobar, both the outer carved cube and the inner sphere were gone. The Oon had disappeared, all four of them. There was not even any trace that any unusual activity had taken place, no faint aromas, no wisps of smoke or sounds of any kind. Torvik did not experience the strange sensation of being suspended in space and time which he had felt when he been initially transported to Asharra, but then again, he was only an observer this time. Perhaps, this is what the scene appeared to be, when he and Zoe had disappeared from Earth. “Are they home now, in their own Osharra on Shellibak?” Ionera asked her Second Mother. “I choose to believe that. There is no indication otherwise. See, the remaining sha of the Asharra-dobar is gone.” “So the life-force of the dragon egg and the crystal being, the Eimiv supplied the power, although it’s a pity that it took the life of a dragon to make it work” Torvik sighed to himself, “The sha inside the egg should not be considered the death of an unborn dragon. “Yavaran corrected the teenager, “the energy and particles of the dragon egg simply changed form when they were dropped into the lake and they changed form again right now in this chamber. It was never alive and never dead. There are only particles and energy which change shape and form. The dragon inside the egg agreed to alter its path to include this destination instead of a form with scales and wings. In time, it would have returned to a similar form of sha anyway. This was a 438

The Winds of Asharra special pause in the path for it, but no more special than being in the form of a dragon.” “We’re all the same, “Ionera smiled to Torvik, attempting to reassure him, “we are all individual asha but we are together we are also the greater Asha which carries the particles through everything.” Torvik tried to force a small smile. Outwardly, it was clear that he was acknowledging the sacrifice of a dragon egg, when coupled with the energy or sha of the crystalline Eimiv being. Yet, inwardly, he was thinking of his father and missing him. He had wished that he could have rejoined him on Earth but Yavaran’s recent comments made him question if that was possible or safe unless he returned with Zoe, who clearly did not wish to return to Earth at all. It was also clear from Yavaran’s words, or at least as clear as the cryptic Rohulu got, that the Asharra-dobar could not be re-used to send someone else across the universe, at least by themselves. It was questionable whether Ionera could return with him to Earth but supposedly even more impossible to use the Asharra-dobar to bring anyone else originally unintended to Asharra. “There has to be another way.” Torvik, grunted to himself. “I want you to answer my other questions now.” Yavaran was hardly surprised at his outburst but did nothing to chastise or criticize the teenager for its timing or manner. “I never said otherwise.” she replied honestly, bowing her head slightly. “if I remember correctly, you had two remaining questions which I had not answered.” “Yes, I wanted to know if my destiny, my path or Kokayniah is really supposed to be here on Asharra or on Earth. Was the Eimiv selecting the Iramu for some great purpose because they could do more good here 439

R. Leigh than on their homeworld?” “And your other question involved methods of movement between worlds.” Yavaran smiled oddly as she curled her lips in a slow deliberate manner. “How can you ask questions like that about Kokayniah?” asked Ionera to her mate.” The path before us unfolds as our sha is carried along by the Asha, the winds. How we react to the path depends on the strength and balance of our sha, and whether we are deep and true.” “I know all of that. It sounds a little bit like a few of the Eastern philosophies on Earth.” Torvik sighed, squeezing the nude nish’s hand even tighter. “I even believe that, really I do but I don’t know what to do. Can’t either of you understand that? I don’t want to make a selfish decision.” “Why?” Yavaran abruptly asked, stunning the teenager. “What do you mean why?” “Why would that be shallow or even empty?” Torvik stared at the Elder’s face, and studied the few lines and creases which only served to accentuate her high cheekbones. He studied her appearance as she silently paused, desperate for answers. Her shimmering silver hair stood in sharp contrast to the by now familiar orange skin tone of the Asharrans. The expression she wore was cryptic. It wasn’t one of condemnation or even disapproval but it did not look overly sympathetic either. At most, she seemed slightly saddened and confused by Torvik’s remark. She could sense his inner mouse and his inner tiger were locked in evenly matched combat for his worldview. “When you are truly in harmony and thinking with your greater mind in charge, your self is not something to be seen as vain or tainted. It is not something to be denied or even something regarded as superficial because it is only a temporary state of the energy and particles. Your individual 440

The Winds of Asharra ya-sha, as extraordinary as it is, is a reflection in miniature of an aspect of the Asha.” It sounded very Zen like to Torvik and he could appreciate where Yavaran was attempting to take the conversation. So long as he was acting naturally, his intentions were not shallow or empty. His self hood was perfectly natural and an expression of a much larger reality for the Asharrans. It wasn’t to be denied, considered sinful or weak as in various religions of Earth. The purpose of life wasn’t suffering and certainly not redemption, it was simply experience. The word for an Asharran was not even a correct approximation of their Uatu, which was action without effort, spontaneity. Life was simply life, a state of energy and particles that allowed the participant a full range of experiences the same way as the human eye allows a person to see a variety of colors or an ear the variety of sounds. Life for an Asharran was to be experienced and felt. One thought things to enhance and understand the experience, not the other way around. Asharrans did not decide to have feelings. They felt things first and then if necessary, thought about them. They felt life down to their fingertips and their toes, complete with errors in judgment, shortfalls and unpleasant memories but they rarely complained, never held a grudge and always lived life in an ever present now. The future was not a pie in the sky for them. It was simply “later today.” “If you search your greater mind, how you feel on this, there is no possibility of making a shallow choice. You do have a choice, Torvik.” “So the existence of the Eimiv in this does not mean anything about taking away free will.” Torvik rambled, recalling things he had heard as a child and rejected out of hand. 441

R. Leigh “The Eimiv is just a creature, the same as you or I” Yavaran finally smiled. “He is just made of crystal. His mode is different but he too is carried by the winds and has a Kokayniah of his own. His unique sha fits together in the greater Asha as part of it.” “Yes, “ sighed Torvik to himself.” The Eimiv is not a crystal God making me do anything. I know that. I just want....” “What do you want? What do you really want? “ Yavaran asked Torvik in a very loud and commanding voice, both startling and frightening the 18 year old. “Do you want to know whether you belong here or on Earth?” “No!” he awkwardly shouted back at her, not realizing at first that he had even replied. “I know the answer to that question now.” “But Torvik,” Ionera interrupted, clearly confused, “You always said you did not know whether your Kokayniah was here or on Earth...” The 18 year old stood there feeling more exposed before Ionera than their perpetual nudity might reflect. He did not make eye contact with her, instead determined to stare down at his bare toes as he made small circles on the thin layer of sand covering the floor. “Your lesser mind struggles for dominance and you still feel hesitant to set your greater mind free once and for all,” said Yavaran to Torvik perceptively in a blunt and icy tone. “At first I thought I just didn’t want to make a mistake by making the wrong decision but really, deep down, I knew I wanted to stay here, even if I could make some difference on Earth” “That is deep and true, not what did you call it... selfish.” Ionera attempted to reassure her young mate. “My whole life I was groomed by my father to be a 442

The Winds of Asharra great scholar and I enjoyed it”, Torvik began in an emotional determined tone, “but I had to be perfect because that would make me better and stronger and that way I could achieve any goal I could think of... it would guarantee I would make all of the right choices.” “You made your choices there by thinking instead of feeling.” Yavaran whispered. “Alright.. I don’t know if I could make a greater contribution on Earth or Asharra but I want to stay here...alright I said it.” shouted Torvik. “Then you have made that choice.” Yavaran smiled. “You still seem empty.” Ionera whispered as she attempted to caress the teenager in her arms, even rubbing her bare shalas across his chest. “You don’t understand. I wasn’t looking for an answer to that question. I was looking for justification. I was looking for permission to choose Asharra and in a way, I am still looking for that.” “From your father.” Yavaran snapped. “Yes!” “But he is not here.” “I know.. he’s stuck in the same box that I was.” admitted Torvik. “He spent his entire life not only accumulating knowledge but trying to make a difference and I really don’t know if he ever did. Sure, maybe he inspired some students along the way but my father was always more about research than teaching and certainly not teaching the safe courses that the University wanted him to teach. He was always out there on the fringes, trying to push the envelope.” Neither Asharran had any idea what an envelope was but Yavaran was secretly pleased that the truth was slowly escaping bit by bit from Torvik’s minds. He was rejecting 443

R. Leigh more and more of his Earth upbringing and struggling to consistently feel like an Asharran, not just occasionally but always. “Deep down, even if I could make a difference back there with this knowledge, that would mean that I would be capable of doing something that how many others have tried before me?” he asked Yavaran. “I do not know... maybe four or five bonded pairs returned to Earth?” “Even with my father’s help, would I just regret not being here, especially now that I’ve found Ionera? Even if I could take her back with me to Earth, how could that be fair to her, especially now. “ Torvik admitted, touching the silver horns on her head and the long elf-like ears. “You have a choice.” Yavaran smiled. “I have a problem.” “We don’t believe in that word.” she smiled at him, thumping her tail to the ground. “You already admitted that you wish to remain here, even if you do not know where your path, your Kokayniah lies. That, young Torvik, is the first sign that you see your Kokayniah on the horizon. It does not matter if you can not distinguish the possibilities of it. You already can feel it. Trust your sha, little dox. Why won’t you give your lesser mind a rest?” “So I wanted proof.” he admitted to the two Asharrans, “like any good little scientist. I wanted solid evidence of what to do so that I could not doubt myself or think that my father would have disapproved of me.” “You are similar to him but you are not him.” said Yavaran. “What did you say about a prophesy?” Torvik asked the elder. “Perhaps that is a too shallow a word...possibility is 444

The Winds of Asharra more true. In the dobar chamber is the Asharra-dobar which brought you here. The carved symbols on the cube are beginning to change. That is natural since the cube is made of Eimiv crystal essence mixed with Asharran rock and soil. The crystal portion is trying to document your Kokayniah for our records.” “It really is a library then.” Torvik said, somewhat astonished. “Oh yes, and I have been watching the changes in your cube since I first received the message crystal that you sent. Actually, I held a special interest in that cube since it appeared here without you. I’ve never seen that happen before but I have never seen a mismatched pair ever arrive here before either.” “Zoe.” Ionera said, clearly not with any great affection. “She might have been your mate had you stayed on Earth but your Kokayniah changed the moment your bare feet touched Asharran soil and I think you knew that from the start, no matter what you told yourself or her.” “Is that deep and true, Torvik?” Ionera asked, a bit eager to learn any past feelings of his regarding Zoe. “My whole world and all of my expectations changed once I arrived here, in all areas of my life. Here I could be almost anything.” “Here you can be yourself.” Ionera chirped, giving him the largest hug she could muster. “I believe that answers your second question, does it not?” Yavaran inquired with a sly smile. “How did the carvings on my Asharra-dobar change?” asked Torvik. “See for yourself. I will show you. It is in the dobar chamber but be aware that it is still in not complete as you are not complete.” 445

R. Leigh “You still seem shallow.” Ionera remarked as she attempted to jolt her young mate back to her by gently massaging his bare darana’s. Sensing how well she could read his state of mind, Torvik still attempted to reassure his gothic pixie, rubbing his arm across her back. When his fingers reached the tiny knobs where what would eventually be her wings protruded she spasmed violently in obvious pain. “Ionera!” “Ugh... “she groaned, stiffening for a moment before at last regaining her composure enough to stand without leaning on him for desperate support. “You did not tell me that they hurt that bad.” Torvik reprimanded her, furious that she could be hiding something that serious from him. “It is natural and true. “she countered. “It is only a part of my shadow.. in my dreams I was flying.” “Your dreams never said anything about great pain, did they?” Torvik demanded, already knowing the answer. “You can’t just wish the pain away.” “No one is suggesting that she do that.” interrupted Yavaran. “We will observe her condition and call for a healer if that becomes necessary.” “And I am sure that they will have no clue what to do. “ stormed Torvik. “You said yourself, no Asharran, Meeru or not, has ever grown wings.” “There are many kinds of healers. “ the elder chuckled cryptically, casually waving her tail in Torvik’s general direction. “I feel true now. Please, no shallowness, my mate.” “But Ionera...” She smiled a disarming smile at Torvik and followed it with her best pouty expression, attempting to totally disarm 446

The Winds of Asharra him. Fortunately for Ionera, her quirky ways were the perfect tools to fix this problem for her mate and temporarily put his minds at ease. “You’ll tell me and Yavaran and your parents if the pain becomes any worse..” “Faster than a friznaggle,” Ionera giggled, not admitting that the knobs of her future wings were still throbbing in a dull but steady pace, similar to two thumb size toothaches. The pain had subsided since Torvik had touched the spots but even with the tops of her future wings clearly poking through her back, the skin around those points was sore and painful. Ionera guessed that most intense pain was actually occurring below her skin as the wings developed and pressed against her spine and ribs. “You had a third question.” Yavaran reminded Torvik, surprising him with her suggestion to return to his topic of aggravation. “But I thought we were done here.” “Did you?” she laughed. “Come little dox, even I can read your hidden question behind your eyes. “Then do you know the answer?” Torvik inquired, his turn to behave cryptically. “The answer is yes but there would be a great price.” Ionera alternated her stare between the two of them, fully expecting that she would be informed of the details but no such explanation came. “What are you saying?” she finally asked both of them. “Go down to the others, little one and tell them that I will join them shortly. We have a feast to enjoy and I will not be late.” Yavaran cackled with deliberate glee. “But...” “Please, Ionera, do as she says.” Torvik agreed, surprising his mate and annoying her as well. 447

R. Leigh “Torvik!” “For once, Torvik and I see eye to eye. Indulge me and do this now, Ionera. “ Yavaran said, asking and commanding at the same time. “You’ll tell me what is going on...” “I promise.” he replied. “And you won’t leave anything out...” “Nothing.” he smiled. “Well, alright then. You’re sure?” “Ionera.” Yavaran said sharply. “Please leave us, I need to show Torvik his Asharra-dobar and speak a few words to him.” “I am going. “ the 18 year old protested, as she finally turned with enough of an indignant flourish as to cause the bare cheeks of her tezz to jiggle openly as she proceeded to leave the topmost chamber of the Zaya. Torvik stifled a laugh at the sight of her tezz, seemingly having a mind of its own, regardless of her intentions to display some childish frustration. “She is your Kokayniah. You know that. “ Yavaran remarked after Ionera was clearly out of sight and far enough down the incline so as not to overhear her remarks. “Yes, I know that. It was always a question of whether or not I should stay here or take Ionera with me to Earth.” “And now, you would leave that world and any possible future there behind, even though you are not completely sure whether or not that is on your path?” “Time will force that choice for me. “ Torvik whispered. “Once Ionera’s wings eventually grow there would be no way I could take her to Earth. I could hide the horns and the long elf ears. I could even explain away the orange tone of her skin but the wings would be impossible. It would not be a life anyone could endure.” 448

The Winds of Asharra “There are obviously no winged people on Earth.” “No and even the mythical representations of wings are not exactly like what Ionera will eventually get, If she has some dreegin or dragon DNA than the wings will be dragon like, not feathery, Even if the people on Earth could accept her with wings, which they can’t, they certainly would never accept that type of wings.” “Why?” marveled Yavaran, “How does the type matter?” Torvik thought about attempting to explain the superstitious fears of imaginary creatures from a few of Earth’s religions, fears that included beings with horns and leathery wings. Ionera would definitely be considered demonic by a lot of narrow minded bigots on Earth and probably have to fear for her life at the hands of religious zealots as much as at the hands of curious scientists. Torvik refrained from making a long winded explanation of primitive Earth religious myths to Yavaran and smiled a tiny smile when he realized that her own appearance, complete with sinuous reptilian tail, would result in the same treatment. “You did not wish her to know that other people on Earth would shun her or even fear or hate her enough to wish to harm her?” “Yes.” Torvik said quietly, “between her moodiness and that shadow thing of hers, coupled now with these horns and ears and eventually the wings....I did not want to make her upset needlessly.” “You will upset her more by keeping things from her, Torvik. That is not the Asharran way, no matter how true it may appear to you. It is a shallow truth, not a deep one and not one that you can always utilize to prevent her from harm. I do sense your devotion and I do approve, however. You and she are truly bonded mates.” 449

R. Leigh “We don’t have to go to the other chamber. Just tell me what was on the cube...” “The symbols fade and are replaced by other images but they too are cloudy and indistinct as your path is. At the moment there is an image of you on one side and one of your friend Zoe, on the opposite side of the cube. If this had been a typical situation, the pair should appear together, not separately.” “Fine, I can understand that. What else.” “I can see an image of Ionera next to you on your side of the cube. The outline of her wings is faint but I can make it out.” “How recent was this change?” Torvik asked. “It was there long before you entered the Zaya through the overhead panel in the Osharra circle but several ya and yi times since your cube appeared here.” came the reply. “The carvings do not change rapidly but the indication was clear that Ionera was central in your life from the moment you met her.” “Now, about my third question...” Torvik said, in a clear and serious tone, “Tell me what I have to do to bring my father to Asharra.” It was the Asharran custom not wait a long period of time for guests to arrive for a feast. Once they had indicated that they would be along shortly, the other guests and the hosts began the final preparations up to and including serving and eating the meal, if the tardy guests did not arrive. Asharran manners did not mean that the majority of the guests would be inconvenienced and forced to wait. Ionera’s sudden reappearance reassured her parents, even though it was evident to them that she was concerned about something. This was not the moodiness of her shadow, however. Her father had sensed a positive change 450

The Winds of Asharra in that regard and distinguished this threat as something more tangible. “Torvik is still talking with Yavaran.” Ionera explained, “He has decided to stay here on Asharra but there is still something empty, something that troubles him and he will not tell me.” “Can we eat now?” Wole interrupted with blunt honesty as he sat in front of one of the low tables. His stomach grumbled loudly enough to discourage Ionera from commenting on his remark. “Soon.” Shiara replied before turning back towards her daughter. “I am certain that they will discover together whatever is troubling him. She has spoken of the two of you ever since receiving the message crystal you sent.” “How soon?” Wole interrupted again. Shiara temporarily lost her train of thought and glowered at the blue bull, attempting to send him a nonverbal signal that even his thick hide could not misinterpret. Huff, the small purple dreegin, flew overhead inside the chamber, and started up an impromptu la designed to soothe the possible friction between the scaly Asharran nish and the large blue bull. “Soon enough, I suppose. “ Wole grumbled as he settled back down and averted his gaze from Shiara. “What of the Oon?” Oppapalo asked his daughter, eager to hear the latest news of the plant creatures. “That was wonderful,” Ionera cooed, not realizing that her father successfully had shifted her focus and changed the subject to a more pleasant one. “We watched the Asharra-dobar open and the Oon spun around faster and faster until you could not see them.” “Are you sure you are talking about the Oon, the big heavy plant creature that I pushed all the way from ...” 451

R. Leigh “Wole!” Shiara finally exploded. “There are now eight Oon and they are smaller and evidently much more agile and quick in their movements. Do you wish any other explanations or can my daughter resume her story?” “I wish I had been pushing the little ones” Wole commented, either completely oblivious to Shiara’s outburst or attempting to sound a bit more cheerful. “The little ones probably would not have needed pushing.” Oppapalo smirked, “and I wouldn’t have had to enlist your assistance in this matter.” Wole snorted once and concluded that Oppapalo was quite correct. Had circumstances been different, he would be in his personal Osharra now or visiting Theyna in hers. He estimated that a full ya-cycle had passed since he had set off for his home, the last time he had seen his mate-tobe. Without warning, the large blue steer rose to his feet and then assumed a position similar to a meditative lotus posture but clearly with a similar intent. “What is he doing?” Ionera whispered to her parents. Oppapalo shrugged, indicating his lack of knowledge. “He’s being quiet,,, that is enough.” Shiara joked to her family, though her tone was still a bit serious. Wole concentrated harder and steam finally began to erupt from his snout. “I think he is going to blow up.” Ionera whispered. “Of course.” Shiara groaned, “That is what I would expect.” Actually, the giant steer was practicing a form of meditation that took advantage of the unique physiology of his species. His parents utilized it whenever they were apart since the aim was to create a sort of empathic long distance bond, not at all telepathic, but enough to send feelings of warmth or distress at great distances, Wole had informed 452

The Winds of Asharra Theyna of this practice unique to his kind, but up until now, never had the opportunity to practice it on anyone except his aging parents. Naturally, in this case, the object of his thoughts, Theyna, would not be able to respond as she was native Asharran. She could. in theory feel his emotions over a distance. Inside the tall blue crystalline structure in Asharrakibur that was Theyna’s temporary home, it was a welcome and overdue sensation since she and her pseudo-birth sibling, Zoe, had been mystified regarding Wole’s sudden disappearance. It started only as a vague feeling in Theyna’s minds but steadily began to grow stronger and more obvious. “It’s only been a day, “Zoe groaned. “Maybe he just went out for a good time with some of his friends.” “Wole doesn’t have very many friends. I can’t understand why.” she smirked.”I mean, there are many people who are friendly towards him but very few have actually declared friendship with him by the proper Doing.” Zoe pictured the ritual action of cupping fingers around the blue bull’s darana’s and concluded she could understand most Asharran’s reluctance to swear undying friendship to him. And then, there was the matter of his personality. “I miss him so much.. he is so beautiful.” Theyna sighed. “Wole? beautiful? We are talking about the same Wole, tall, blue and irritating?” Zoe joked, attempting to make her Asharran sister laugh. “Yes, he is all that and more.” “And besides, I’m sure you are the one he regards as beautiful.” “Actually, I think that Wole deep down admires the 453

R. Leigh form of his own kind more.” confided Theyna. Zoe opened her mouth and then instead of continuing the conversation, burst out in unexpected laughter. “What is so amusing?” “The two of you...”she roared with laughter, “it’s a fractured fairy tale....if he’s the beauty then you’re the beast.” Theyna tossed a nearby looshie cushion at Zoe, barely missing the Earth nish’s still purple hair. She had no idea what the reference was, although the sisterly nish link between them conjured up a strange image in her mind of two creatures, a nish like herself and a dox who was large and hairy. It seemed appropriate. “He’s fine.” Theyna suddenly announced. “I’m glad you think so... you’re the one who has to fremm him.” the 18 year old giggled obscenely. “No, I mean he is fine.. Wole is healthy and not in any danger.” “How do you know?” “I just do....”Theyna said calmly in her best big sister voice, “and what was that about being forced to fremm him...” “I only meant....” stammered Zoe, clearly embarrassed “You would not say such things if you had been in my place,” she cooed with pleasure. “If I was in your place, he would not have fit. “laughed Zoe, “I’ve seen Wole. He would have split me in two.” “As I said, “Theyna smiled knowingly, “there was no need for that comment... it only reminds me of how much I miss him.” Elsewhere on Asharra, inside the Zaya, the great blue bull returned to his place behind the low dining table as his meditation was complete and Oppapalo and Shiara were 454

The Winds of Asharra beginning to bring out the food. “All done with what you were doing?” Ionera asked innocently. “I was communicating with Theyna.” Wole explained, “It is the way of our kind.” “I’m sure she misses you too.” Ionera giggled, as she noticed Wole’s erect dox. The blue bull decided to concentrate on the plates of food around him. His massive dox was already beginning to deflate as his attention was diverted but he did notice the 18 year old staring at it. “I hope Torvik gives you as much pleasure.” he said to her, in his best attempt at politeness. “Oh yes, I love to fremm. “ she replied in a childlike manner. “Would you like to watch Torvik and I do it after the feast?” “That would be very nice.” Wole sighed. Normally, any exhibition of fremming was regarded as relaxing and a form of entertainment for the blue steer. However, at this moment, he only thought of his long haired Asharran mate to be. He hoped that she would convince Zoe to pleasure her in his absence. The thought of Theyna being frustrated in any way was more than Wole could endure. His appetite was blunted by these deep and sad thoughts. The large bull convinced himself that he would probably be only able to consume no more than three portions, clearly less that what he would usually do. “I miss Theyna.” he sighed to himself. Within her home of blue crystal, Wole’s mate-to-be was enjoying listening to amusing stories of Earth as told by Zoe and amplified via the nish-link between them. Zoe attempted to describe an encounter she once had as a child, when her parents had tried to win her affections by buying 455

R. Leigh her a horse. She attempted to describe the unknown creature to Theyna by getting down on all fours and pretending to prance in place, with her tezz stuck straight out, like some trained pony. “Well, what do we have here?” came a masculine voice from the far side of the room, which was very familiar to Theyna. “Mefindam!” Theyna shouted with pure joy. For her part, Zoe, was obviously startled, and for a moment, reacted with a trace of Earth mannerisms, feeling awkward that this stranger had entered while she was playing with Theyna and that his first view of her was her was from the rear only, with her tezz and nish far more prominent as she crouched over Theyna’s body. “My brother”, she whispered to Zoe who was still on all fours on the dirt floor with her back to the owner of the voice, “and I did not expect him back so soon.” Before she could get up or at least turn around, she felt a warm masculine hand, jokingly pat the round globes of her bare tezz. “Is she your latest deep friend or maybe even something more? I like the pink skin... Iramu, is she?” Mefindam asked with a friendly laugh in his voice. It was deeper than Torvik’s and had an odd sort of lilting tone to it, the closest thing to an accent that Zoe had encountered. She concluded that it sounded like a cross between Australian, Caribbean and maybe even a little of something Welsh, like Sean Connery, thrown in as well. Whatever it was, the sound was unusual, and beautiful to Zoe’s ear. It was also powerfully sexy, she admitted to herself. “Her name is Zoe, and she’s from a place called Earth.” Theyna explained to her brother as Zoe finally managed to 456

The Winds of Asharra turn around and get to her feet. “Consider your self honored, little friend, “ he laughed as he placed a hand to her nish, “I always enjoy meeting new friends.” “My brother enjoys the Friendship Doings more than anyone I have ever seen, “ Theyna chuckled. As Mefindam concluded the ritual and Zoe immediately reciprocated, it was clear from the look in their eyes that things might be looking up for the nish from Earth. “I’ve made her my birth-sibling. We have a true sisterly bond,” Theyna proudly announced to her brother. “Then in a way, I suppose we are related as well, Mefindam chuckled. Theyna whispered to Zoe, reassuring her that their pseudo-sibling status would not prevent her from any serious relationship with Mefindam and this clearly was a message she was glad to receive. “I love the color of your hair, “announced Mefindam, referring to the bright purple evident both on Zoe’s head and between her legs. “It’s the gift of a dreegin. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Mefindam stepped closer and began to gently caress her hair. At first, he confined his attention to the purple hair on her head but, without warning, he switched his focus to her lower patch of purple hair. “Oh fremm...” Zoe mumbled as she suddenly felt an unexpected wave of pleasure.” “Then you wish me to stop?” Mefindam smiled, half teasing. “No, not at all, “ Zoe replied, surprising herself at her willingness for this stranger to continue. The moment was a revelation for her. Despite the unusual experiences with 457

R. Leigh Asharran culture and philosophy and the now completeness of the sisterly link with Theyna, Zoe felt at this moment, the complete freedom of being an unbonded Asharran. She was not only free to express her sexuality, it was expected as something normal, as normal as expressing hunger, tiredness or laughing at an amusing joke. “A close friend of hers has chosen another mate.” Theyna explained. “She is feeling a little sad.” “Not at the moment I am, “ Zoe blurted out, enjoying Mefindam’s touch. The two of them stared at each other, completely oblivious to Theyna’s presence. Mefindam was clearly surprised that Zoe was so young. He had assumed that she was the same age as he and Theyna but looking at her now, he could see that she was a few years younger. “You are yi-sha at first light.” he beamed at her, flashing a broad smile that she could not miss. Zoe was stunned and caught totally in the moment. Mefindam was continuing to publicly explore her nish with his fingers, sending waves of joy through her young body and she thought he was gorgeous. As a fraternal twin to Theyna, Mefindam was familiar in an eerie way, with the same black hair, kept almost shoulder length and the slightest trace of a dot of hair on his chin, some sort of acceptable Asharran style of beard. His eyes were large, black and piercing and the facial shape was also similar to Theyna, complete with the high chiseled cheekbones. Lastly, the traditional cat shaped ears on the top of his head were clearly evident, making him appear like some bronzed forest creature, appearing out of nowhere for the sole purpose of giving her orgasms. “You can do that all day..” she groaned, “ You are gorgeous.” “Gorgeous?” Mefindam smiled with a mischievous 458

The Winds of Asharra twinkle in his ebony eyes. “The word is new to me... are you displeased? Should I remove my fingers?” “You do that and I’ll kill you.” grunted Zoe in a primal voice. Mefindam grinned with obvious satisfaction and glanced over at Theyna, who was by now relatively composed, resting against some looshie cushions and sipping some water from a small flask. “What about Victor... Torvik?” Theyna chuckled as she watched her pseudo sister lose her self in the moment, happily acting like a horny animal for her brother. “Who?” Zoe muttered. “I would have thought Zoe was a little young for you.” Theyna smiled at her brother in a clearly amused way. “Theyna!” Zoe cried. Mefindam suddenly took Zoe by the hand. He abruptly turned towards his sister who was playfully giving him a teasing glance. “I assume Zoe is sleeping in the sleeping chamber I usually use when I am in Osharra-kibur?” “Yes.” his sister sighed. Mefindam then slung the Earth nish over his shoulder as though she weighed nothing, causing her to giggle uncontrollably. “We will be discussing the differences in our ages...” Mefindam announced as he stormed out of the larger room towards the rear of the structure. “And how long will that be?” chirped Theyna, clearing enjoying the scene. “Until I collapse from pleasure.” Zoe laughed to her sister. Theyna nodded and waved them away, happy that young Zoe may have found a cure for her love sickness for 459

R. Leigh Victor and her resulting sexual frustration. “I’ll show you who’s too young...” Zoe shouted. “You assume you will have strength enough to move.” Theyna smiled to herself as the sounds of the new couple became more muted with every step. She felt a warm glow come over her as she realized that her family life would no doubt be enriched when her brother and Zoe would no doubt become pre-bonded. For all of her teasing, Theyna sensed the clear look in their eyes. It was precisely the same one she shared with her precious Wole. “Wole..” she whispered out loud to herself. “How will I explain Wole to Mefindam? That should be entertaining.” The feast in the Zaya was more than half over, at least by Wole’s calculation of how long the remaining food would last. Paraaz was peacefully eating out of a massive bowl of glittering zim and had made no move to pilfer any of the contents of the feast outside of what he had been given. Wole noted that Ionera still appeared troubled since neither Torvik nor Yavaran had yet returned from wherever they were inside the Zaya. There suddenly arose a loud roaring sound from beneath everyone’s feet, emanating from the level directly below. “The large dragons.” Shiara exclaimed as she rose from the low dining table, “I’ve forgotten to put food out for them.” “There is a forest of vegetables outside.” Wole grunted. “What is the concern?” He recalled that the large dragons, unlike their smaller brethren, were vegetarian and not photosynthetic. “They feel left out.” Ionera sighed, feeling naturally compassionate towards the enormous creatures. “This will not take long.” Shiara said as she stepped away. “But the rest of the food!” Wole exclaimed. 460

The Winds of Asharra “Shiara has more food for them down level, my friend,” Oppapalo told him, attempting to reassure the blue bull that the remaining portions would not be simply given away to the dragons. A short snort or two later, the bull was apparently appeased as he chose to refrain from further comment and resume stuffing his face with a variety of raw foods as well as three varieties of hot stews and soups which Shiara and Oppapalo had painstakingly prepared. “You must show me how to make this.” he said to Oppapalo, pointing to a deep red spicy stew made with yellow and purple vegetables.” “You prepare food?” Oppapalo gasped in mock surprise. “Surely, I thought that your Theyna...” Wole snorted and continued to shovel the ingredients of the feast into his mouth. The sudden appearance of Yavaran and Torvik into the dining chamber was unexpected, although the remainder of the guests had been awaiting their arrival since the inception of the feast. The pair seemed to silently materialize at the chamber not due to any magic but only as a result of the softness of their steps and lack of conversation. Both were not usually characteristic of Yavaran, who always preferred to act with an almost dramatic flair. “Is everything true?” Ionera asked Torvik as he sat at the empty place beside her on a cushion in front of one of the tables. She noticed that he had retrieved the Red Fire doh-rah blades and had carefully placed them on the edge of the table. There was a stiffness in his appearance, a slight amount of tension that was not readily apparent to anyone there except Ionera. In the short span of time she had known Torvik, she could already sense his moods, no mat461

R. Leigh ter how subtle they might appear to be. “I am sorry we are late.” he said to her, his voice a little dull and monotone. She grabbed his right wrist, before he could take hold of any of the serving bowls of food, as she demanded his attention. Torvik turned towards her with a complicated pained expression on his face, full of love and something else. Ionera was mystified but equally determined to uncover what was the source of his frustration. “Did Yavaran answer all of your questions?” she asked, attempting to verbally shake him back to himself. “More and less.” came the simple reply. “I hear that Yi and Ya have finally been attended to, “ Yavaran croaked, as she cast an accusing glance toward Oppapalo. Why he should be responsible for any delay in the feeding of the giant dragons confused her son, but still, Oppapalo admitted to himself that he was glad to see Yavaran after all. She was less than consistent in some areas and too consistent in others but she was a Rohulu, a natural elder, and more important, she was his mother. Strange manner or not, dragon tail or not, she was Meeru and she was family. “Torvik has come to a decision.” Yavaran announced to the group in a loud and formal tone. “I already told them that he was staying,” admitted Ionera, trying to sound as small as possible, and hoping that she did not act shallow by revealing this information prematurely. “I already assumed you would share that, child, “Yavaran smirked with a half smile toward her, even patting her unique silver horns in the way a parent or grandparent would approvingly pat any child on the head. “That is not what I meant.” 462

The Winds of Asharra “I am going to bring my father to Asharra.” Torvik interrupted, much to the astonishment of those present. “But can you get an Asharra-dobar to go to Earth and select him as a guest for the weelu?” asked Wole, honestly curious and concerned if this could be accomplished and how. “That would not be possible.” Yavaran explained. “His mate has died.” She paused for several moments. At first, Oppapalo was convinced it was just another example of his mother enhancing the situation with additional drama but he soon changed his mind. There was something odd about her manner that he had never seen before. No, in a strange way, it was familiar, but so buried and long forgotten that he could not quite retrieve the memory. Finally, she continued. “Torvik is going to use the doh-rah and the power of our great dragons, Yi and Ya, to bring his father here.” “Even I did not know that the doh-rah was capable of this.” revealed Oppapalo. “and I have used its power for years in many ways.” “Alone, it cannot do this.” Yavaran said in a strangely tiny almost emotional voice. “But with the dragons help...” Ionera chimed in happily “and the fact that Torvik and I charged the doh-rah by fremming again and again...” Shiara re-entered the chamber after having provided food for the large white and black dragons. Her entrance was timed perfectly to have heard the last few responses in the conversation. “The doh-rah will not bring any Iramu to Asharra, no matter how much it is charged.” she stated coldly, surprising everyone in the group except Yavaran and Torvik. “But its power...” stammered Ionera. 463

R. Leigh “It can be used for many things and it will be used three times before this yi-time is complete. “Yavaran interrupted with a cryptic reply, “but Shiara’s feelings on this are quite deep and true. This will require sha as strong as the great Asha itself.” Ionera stared into Torvik’s eyes and noticed that he seemed reluctant to return the eye contact with her. It frightened her and she squeezed his hand harder. “There is some danger to this, isn’t there? That is what you are not telling me, isn’t it, Torvik? I am your bonded mate and your other half. You can not hide anything like this from me.” she shouted, in a firm voice, far beyond her years, alarming yet reassuring both of her parents. “Yavaran has told me that the danger is minimal as long as we do not attempt to utilize the Asharra-dobar for this.” Ionera seemed satisfied by his reply, enough to release her grip on his arm and embrace her young mate and kiss him on the lips. He still seemed slightly off but she attributed this to the underlying tension and apprehension of what they were going to attempt. Her mother, Shiara, hid her true feelings behind a small smile. She was glad that Torvik’s words had placated his mate and soothed her concerns but her teachings of the most hidden Meeru doings revealed to her by Yavaran still provided more than enough cause for concern. It was not what Torvik was saying that was the problem. It was what he was omitting. She knew that she would have reacted differently and walked an alternate path if she had been in his place, but no Asharran condemns another for such things. The remainder of the feast was quiet and uneventful. Yavaran’s pronouncement that Torvik and she needed 464

The Winds of Asharra nourishment assured that everyone would not attempt to needlessly and repeatedly interrupt them while they sampled the delicious food. Normally, Asharrans would feel free to chat and linger while dining but this was no normal gathering of friends, sharing tasty food and fine company. It did not take long for Torvik to gather and finish an assortment of delicacies prepared by both Oppapalo and Shiara. He smiled politely and if his appetite was any indication, thoroughly enjoyed the flavors and sensations of the food before him. Still, there was a noticeable edge to the air, the type of crisp uncomfortableness that one cannot fully grasp but is still present Even Ionera sensed this, despite her young age. In a way, she was more familiar with conflicting emotions since she had spent her entire life at odds with the hidden dreegin side of her, her true Meeru side. It had cost her many happy times as it soured them with unease and melancholy, elements unfamiliar to most Asharrans. Still, even Ionera was unaware of the true source of this strange and unsettling sensation. Finally, when it was clear that Torvik had finished eating, she spoke up. “You are certain that you want to bring your father here, Torvik? It is a place where he could be happy?” she asked in her best gothic pixie voice, filled with happy emotion. “Oh yes, “ he smiled, seemingly to break free for a moment from his odd haze. “There are so many wonderful things on Asharra that it would take my father a lifetime to study them. He was always poking around archaeological digs, going to all sorts of exotic locations around the world on Earth. When he wasn’t doing that, he was busy reading other people’s journals about different civilizations, even those that might not have existed.” 465

R. Leigh ‘I don’t understand that part.” Ionera replied bluntly. “We have two kinds stories, some that we know are true which we call history and another which we call myth.” “So history is always true...” Ionera repeated. “Well” Torvik conceded, “it depends on who writes it, I suppose. Sometimes, they leave out a lot and there is even propaganda in it sometimes but you have to disregard that.” “So history is sometimes true...” his mate corrected herself. “But myths are all about cultures which probably never existed or existed but in a completely different form than in the stories. Still, inside of many of the myths are shreds of wisdom that everyone can learn from.” “So myths are sometimes true... just like history. “concluded Ionera. “I don’t understand.” Torvik laughed and kissed her passionately. She had never looked so beautiful to him as at this moment. He had even gotten accustomed to her new silver horns, and the long elf-like ears. She was natural and spontaneous and seemed less moody than ever before. “My father would love it here. Asharra is the type of place he wished for within any culture he was studying. I guess you could say he is a romantic at heart ... just like me.” Ionera attempted to sit in Torvik’s lap and snuggle closer to him but she was prevented from doing so for longer than a few moments. Yavaran reminded him that they should attempt this before the greater sun had set. Almost reluctantly, to Ionera’s great surprise, Torvik agreed. He picked up the Asharra-dobar but not before giving Ionera a long lingering hug and the most passionate of kisses. “You are my life and more.” he said to her, in an almost urgent way. 466

The Winds of Asharra “Nothing can change that.” she replied. The words stung at him but reassured him at the same time because of what he was going to attempt. Yavaran explained to Wole and Oppapalo that they were going to go back up to the capstone room, the one with the red ceiling, directly under the crystal top of the Zaya pyramid. That was to be the location necessary for this particular doing. That made sense to all, since that was where beings normally appeared and disappeared via the Asharra-dobar. The fact that this would be taking place without any cube was bizarre for Oppapalo, Wole and Ionera. “We wish to speak with Torvik.” came a familiar chorus of voices from the back of the chamber. It was the Oon, now numbering only four. The ones designated Second, Fourth, Seventh and Eighth had already departed for Shellibak leaving only the ones designated First, Third, Fifth and Sixth on Asharra. Initially, they spoke telepathically to the group in unison. “We have been aware of all of your thoughts.” the group of Oon admitted. “They are mighty and heavy enough to even pass through the walls of this Zaya. They awoke us from our slumber just now.” “I am glad you are here.” Torvik exclaimed. “Our journey has changed and yours will as well, several times over.” the Oon known as Fifth thought at them. “We have spoken among ourselves and selected one representative to be present at this doing, if you do not object.” “Of course not. You are all welcome to attend. “Torvik smiled. “That would not be wise. It is too dangerous, in case something goes wrong.” the Oon called Third continued telepathically. 467

R. Leigh “Torvik, I thought you said ....” Ionera urgently whispered to him. “We are the one chosen to observe,” said the Oon known as First.” It is an honor, Torvik. May I think with you in private?” At first, the young teenager assumed that the Oon was requesting that the Asharrans leave the room but a gentle clarification from First indicated that the privacy being requested was surprisingly from its fellow Oon. Torvik was curious but not alarmed at this and signaled his approval, unaware that it was standard Oon protocol for such a significant private conversation. The remaining Oon, Third, Fifth and Sixth rolled themselves into a ball and sped toward the back wall of the dining chamber. The action was largely symbolic since they could have easily overhead any thoughts transmitted between the Oon called First and Torvik, had it been their intention. “What do you want?” Torvik asked First, telepathically. “That is our question to you. “ came the Oon’s reply. “But you already said you heard all of my thoughts.” “We did.” “So you know the answer.” “But do you?” the Oon called First asked. “Are you certain you wish to proceed, Torvik? Your path will change whether or not you are successful in bringing your father to Asharra.” “I know.” thought Torvik, “and I know the price. Yavaran has already spelled that out.” “You must not have any doubts.” First thought at him, “Doubt prevents growth as surely as clouds block sunlight. You must be free of it.” Torvik smiled at the small green tree creature. It was as wise as the older larger version, just reduced in size. 468

The Winds of Asharra “My doubts are vanishing thanks to Ionera.” “That is a paradox but it is good.” said First. “You will have another even larger decision before this yi-time is over.” thought the Oon at him. Torvik was uneasy. First Yavaran and now the Oon were hinting at events to come. Were the Oon reading Yavaran’s mind or could they somehow sense the winds of Asharra even before they began to blow and carry him along? He would know soon enough. While Torvik continued the odd conversation with First, Yavaran left the dining area in order to gather up the two large dragons, Yi and Ya and bring them to the capstone chamber. She informed the rest of the party that they could not all fit into the small room comfortably since the dragons, the single Oon and Torvik would almost fill the space. Shiara guessed that Yavaran was more concerned with the safety of the others, although what the Rohulu was saying about cramped quarters due to the large dragons was accurate. It amazed her that Yavaran would risk the safety of the two large dragons for this quest of Torvik’s, but she assumed that the enormous tough hide of the dragons and the sheer power of their own respective yi-sha and ya-sha life forces afforded them enough protection, even if Torvik’s attempts should prove disastrous. As for her son, Oppapalo, and his sometime friend, Wole, it was clear that Yavaran was attempting not to alarm them more than necessary. “Do you know what you will do if you are successful in retrieving your father from Earth?” the single Oon thought at Torvik. “I don’t know what you mean.” Torvik replied, obviously confused since his sole focus at this point appeared to end his quest at this point. 469

R. Leigh “Seasons of growth always continue, young Torvik.” First reminded him, “Yesterday’s ending when the sun sets is only a pause before tomorrow’s beginning.” “What are you trying to tell me?” he pressed the Oon. “Do not delude yourself into thinking that your roots have finished digging deeply into the red soil of Asharra. They have barely begun. You are only now choosing to turn towards the light of the Asharran suns. There will be much growth ahead.” “I know I have a lot to learn.” he countered, a little impatient to attempt the Meeru doing and get it over with, to determine if he could resolve what he thought was the end of his journey. “We were not thinking of a growth within your minds.” First replied telepathically. “Perhaps experience is a better word for you. Your limbs have far to stretch and much to experience in Asharra, perhaps more than you know.” “I hope so.” Torvik smiled silently, replying with his thoughts. “It will be nice to just enjoy life with Ionera here and explore.” “Yavaran can not read your thoughts and sense the stability of your roots. She has not told you of your role to assist the Eimiv.” In all of the discussion of whether to stay on Asharra or return to Earth, and with his focus on his father, Torvik had carelessly forgotten to continue asking Yavaran about the strange crystalline being who was at the center of so much of Asharra, even indirectly. He had heard its faint voice asking for help when he had briefly put on the red crystal pendant and even felt a strange connection, faint but constant, whenever he practiced with the Red Fire, the doh-rah. “The Eimiv can have its own needs and intertwine that new growth with the needs of Asharra.” First reminded 470

The Winds of Asharra him, “Your arrival here is most likely due to a combination of both.” “I thought the reason why the Asharra-dobar selected Zoe and I, even though we weren’t a perfect match was because our mates and our Kokayniah, was to be here on Asharra. Are you saying that is not true?” “It is true but there is more, Torvik. You are a seedling just barely sprouting and when you are stronger, you will be able to do much for Asharra in general and the Eimiv in particular. I believe one of the first tasks for you will be to help the Eimiv and it may even have been key to your selection, as central as your Kokayniah to become a symbol for all Asharrans.” The thoughts of the Oon baffled Torvik and it annoyed him that Yavaran might have been keeping this information from him. If there were more expectations of him and obligations towards the Eimiv, why wasn’t he being told? This didn’t seem right or fair. “Do not judge Yavaran harshly, Torvik, “First continued, “She has been cultivating your growth and nurturing you since you met her. Yavaran does not wish to influence your decisions any more than necessary. Your path must be your own.” “Yes, that part I can understand. She’s said as much herself,” he replied to the Oon. “ but if my journey is just beginning, why not tell me?” “She is worried that you might be too weak a seedling and that it might make you shrivel up and deny your Kokayniah completely.” Torvik thought hard and convinced himself that he could partially understand Yavaran’s motivations. In an odd way, she was behaving as his mother did, the exact opposite parenting style as his father. His memories of his 471

R. Leigh mother, Francesca, were unfortunately growing dim since he was so young when she died. Still, he recalled the stark contrast between the firm intellectual hand of his father and the softer almost hidden instruction of his mother. It was something he sorely missed when she was gone. He had spent half of his young life without her and worse yet, so had his father. They both had become lopsided, stressing the provable, the intellectual and the practical. In her own mystical, almost eccentric way, Yavaran was a balance to that, even with her crustiness. “She wants me to prove myself but without coaching me every step of the way, like my father did.” Torvik thought to himself. The single Oon beamed with inner warmth, knowing that the Earth creature was firmly on the path, seeking wisdom and balance. Even if he might falter from time to time, at this moment, he was allowing the winds to carry him along. “Trust the winds of Asharra and trust yourself, Torvik. We only give you these insights so that what you choose to do now, will lead to much more. It will be a beginning, not an ending or a pause. Consider this as you ponder your decision. If you were Oon, you could reflect on it for decades but unfortunately you are not Oon. Your kind makes every decision in a blink of an eye.” Torvik felt nothing but gratitude towards the plant creature. Was it his imagination or did this particular Oon, called First, embody even more of the essence of his original friend, what the tiny plant now called the MotherFather. “Thank you for your insight. “ he said, offering nothing but sincere gratitude as he patted the small tree on its trunk, attempting to make tactile contact to amplify his intentions. 472

The Winds of Asharra “I know that Yavaran has my best interests at heart, even if she isn’t saying so, but I can’t think of helping anyone until I can settle this about my father, one way or the other.” “Then your next step along your path is clear. You can feel the tug of the winds pulling you and should not resist. Let us roll along together, Torvik.” Whether the Oon meant it figuratively or literally, it was clear that they should depart the dining chamber and head upwards into the Zaya to the capstone chamber. Torvik retrieved the Red Fire doh-rah blades from the dining table and prepared to depart. He glanced around and realized that Yavaran had already left, presumably to retrieve the two large dragons, whose raw mystical power would act as anchoring points for the Meeru Doing he was about to perform. While Torvik had been engaged in silent conversation with the Oon, the others had been talking among themselves, having had no idea how long his discussion with the Oon would last. All of them knew that there were important things ahead but each of them tried not to dwell on this aspect of the path ahead. Instead, the conversations had been light and cheery, almost serving as a symbolic refreshing drink of cool water while the travelers paused their own journeys in the shade. Oppapalo had been teasing his mate, Shiara, thrilled to have finally been reunited with her after six years and eager to resume their life together, despite her change in appearance. He had reassured her that the rows of shiny turquoise scales running up and down her naked body only enhanced her natural beauty in some ethereal way and at last she believed him. The sight of his erect dox did wonders to convince her that his words were deep and true and that his love for her was boundless. 473

R. Leigh “Tell me, Shiara, “ he whispered in her ear, “How did you survive that long?” He pointed between her legs to indicate the meaning of his words. “There is a chamber up level which I utilize for such things. “she explained, “Rather than pleasure myself in the normal way, the red crystals embedded in the walls of the chamber augment this process.” “Really?” Oppapalo’s eyes widened. “How so?” “Yavaran said they amplify the yi-sha, or in your case, ya-sha, within and reflect it back towards us. When I would go there and think of you, my hunger for you between my legs could be reflected and channeled back. I could feel you, Oppapalo. I could feel your hands on my body and see you in my mind.” The Asharran dox smiled at his mate, comforted that she not only endured the separation but managed to utilize it to strengthen her connection with him. They had been bonded for several years before her disappearance into the Zaya, long enough to enjoy the birth of two daughters, suffer the death of one, and anticipate an intertwined path that would never falter. That was why the time apart came as such a shock to him and why, despite the gentle urging from other Asharrans, Oppapalo never sought to re-bond with any other Asharran. In his minds, he knew that Shiara was still out there somewhere. That was the gift bestowed on the Meeru, a deep mystical connection between the bonded pairs thanks to the drop of dreegin blood. Ionera had been utilizing this time while Torvik was preoccupied with the lone Oon attempting to engage Wole in conversation. Her efforts were understandably awkward at first, since the two were so different, and appeared to have little common ground. Yet, it was their almost primal devotion to their respective mates that bridged that gulf. 474

The Winds of Asharra They both shared the view that their Ishanna, their own unique, inner concept of Home, which they carried with them inside them, was only complete if it contained an image of their mate at the center. On that the large gruff blue bull and the small horned orange skinned Meeru were in total agreement...that, and the fact that fremming was their favorite activity in life. To any observer it would have appeared unlikely and even ridiculous to observe the shaggy steer and the 18 year old Meeru swapping stories of orgasms and bluntly revealing details of how they pleasured their loves, and how in turn, they enjoyed being pleasured. It was not the sort of conversation you expected between a child and an adult and certainly not between Ionera and Wole, but it was a point which required no effort on either one’s part to understand or empathize with. “If Torvik ever requires any additional advice regarding technique, “Wole grunted with a hearty snort, “I will be most happy to demonstrate with Theyna. We have explored almost every position imaginable, some that especially seemed to please her.” “That would be wonderful, “ Ionera chirped as she struggled to recall an Earth expression that Torvik had shared with her in a completely different context. She paused for a moment, and thought hard, scrunching her eyebrows down low for an instant, which caused her small silver horns to appear to wiggle. At last she retrieved the term from her memory.” “Yes,” she giggled to Wole, “when it comes to fremming, we should compare notes, as Torvik says.” “That would be acceptable,” the bull replied, even managing a rare smile upon his massive lips. Ionera got up and attempted to hug the imposing creature as hard as she could, but the effort was largely sym475

R. Leigh bolic as her strength was negligible compared to the mighty naked two legged steer. It warmed Wole’s insides however, and if it weren’t for the impending events with Torvik, he would have gladly performed the Friendship Doing with both of them. At last, he felt a kinship with the young couple and perhaps the seeds of a much greater friendship. Torvik turned toward his young mate and held her nude body close, embracing Ionera, and happily squeezed the globes of her bare tezz. He was surprised when Wole appeared to smile approvingly and nodded his massive head to signal warmth and empathy. “What were you talking to Wole about?” Torvik whispered to Ionera. “Fremming. “Ionera happily whispered back, “It’s something we have in common with him. Torvik cast a covert glance between the bull’s legs and then down at his own dox and darana’s, noting the obvious difference in size. “I don’t think I have that much in common with him.” he confessed to Ionera. “Silly dox, “ she giggled, grasping his dox in her hands. “That is not what I meant.” “It’s time for me to try this.” Torvik suddenly announced, raising the doh-rah blades. Reluctantly, Ionera released her grip on his dox and looked at him with bittersweet feelings behind her eyes. “Yavaran said we have to wait directly below you on the next level because there won’t be enough room, because of the dragons.” she pouted. “Well, I guess she knows, “Torvik replied, not eager to get into an argument with his beloved. “But it’s shallow.” protested Ionera. 476

The Winds of Asharra “Talk to Yavaran. “ Torvik snapped almost abruptly, “You know I would prefer you by my side, especially right now, but she may be right this time.” “It’s shallow..” the Meeru repeated, as tears began to well up in her eyes. “I’ll tell her myself.” Torvik decided not to press the point, since it would inevitably delay things and increase the overall stress he was feeling at the moment. If Ionera wished to battle Yavaran over this, he would not stand in her way. Hopefully, his Doing would be complete even before such a verbal sparring match would be over. The last thing Torvik wanted was to get in the middle of a shouting match between Ionera and Yavaran. While certain that such things were uncommon on Asharra, Torvik knew enough about the personalities of his young mate and her Second Mother to know that it might even be more dangerous to be standing between them than attempting to perform some mystical Meeru ritual. Determining that the time for such conversation was over, Torvik briefly announced to the group that he was proceeding up level to the capstone chamber. Everyone in the dining area decided, as expected, to follow him, even if they were required to stay some distance away from the small space with the red ceiling, one level below. They all wished to offer their sincere support and solidarity for what he was attempting. The walk through the Zaya and the up the various inclines did not take long and was completely uneventful. In fact, it was totally silent as no one wished to disturb Torvik or attempt to meddle in the situation. The teenager was grateful for this turn of events and relieved that no one had protested further. Torvik was, however, totally unaware, that the single Oon now called First, had telepathically sent 477

R. Leigh a message to everyone else but him, urging them to remain silent and refrain from interference. The soothing and wise twin voice of the Oon inside their heads made the small group realize that further distractions would not be appreciated. When Torvik reached the final incline and gazed upwards at the small chamber, he felt like he was climbing into an old attic, a space not frequently used and full of its own secrets. Naturally, he had just been there earlier to watch four small Oon return to Shellibak, but this was different. In that case, Yavaran had acted as though the process was nothing out of the ordinary, at least the basic process, of returning Iramu back to their homeworlds. This was different. This did not include an invited guest and no Asharra-dobar was involved. “Torvik, come here.” Yavaran commanded from above as she peered down the incline and saw the teenager at the base. “I’ll make her understand.” Ionera protested to Torvik, giving one last attempt at reigniting her previous conversation. Instead of replying, Torvik pressed her naked body close to his and embraced her with all of his love and passion. He was careful not to touch the knobs of her future wings, for fear that they were still sensitive but this did not deter him from expressing his complete devotion. Ionera felt his greater mind reach out to her and smother her with its intensity but also its compassion. He kissed her deeply, savoring the sensation of her soft lips and the taste of her mouth and tongue against his. Finally, Torvik smiled and ran his fingers along one of the twin silver horns on her forehead. “Wish me luck.” he smiled to her. 478

The Winds of Asharra “What is luck?” “Then wish me success.” he corrected. “Warm and Deep, my love, “ she sighed as he slowly climbed the final steps away from her. Only First, the small Oon, followed Torvik up the incline into the chamber. Some red filtered light from above the crystalline ceiling bathed the chamber in an eerie crimson shadow. The two large dragons, one white and one black, stood at opposite walls, shuffling from side to side and clearly uncomfortable at having to hunch themselves over. They had never been inside this chamber since the ceiling was probably just slightly over six feet tall, much smaller than the large dragons. Their discomfort was evident by their constant shuffling from side to side. Their talons on their feet made raspy scratching sounds on the floor, bare except for a thin layer of dark grey sand. “What do I do now?” Torvik asked Yavaran, hoping for some last minute instructions, or some final insights. “Just as we discussed, “she replied “Stay in the center of the room, away from Yi and Ya and express your desires with your body.” The moves that Torvik had practiced resembled a weird combination of Tai Chi, pantomime and even some old disco dancing steps which his father would have been more familiar with. “Periodically point the blades at each of the dragons simultaneously, “Yavaran reminded him, a crucial difference from his early efforts at practicing the use of the dohrah. “They will focus your ya-sha and help transform it.” “Remember how my brother-sisters were sent home, “the Oon projected a thought at him, “even without an Asharra-dobar, their actions might prove helpful.” 479

R. Leigh Torvik remembered the chanting that the four Oon had done and he asked Yavaran if this might indeed assist the Doing. Unfortunately, the silver haired elder only twirled her tail in response. She clearly did not know since this had never been attempted before. “I will wait for you at the base of the incline, directly below you, “she attempted to reassure him in a firm and steady voice. “If the Doing should become shallow or empty or if you are in great pain, cry out to me.” “Pain?” Torvik exclaimed, “I don’t remember anything being said about there being any pain...” “Center your roots.” the Oon thought at him. “We will remain at your side throughout. The Oon rolled itself into a small ball, coming no higher than the teenager’s thigh. It rolled around a bit, signaling that it would be more than capable of either moving in unison with Torvik or at least, staying out of his way as he performed the Doing. “Deep and True, Torvik of Earth. Be safe,” Yavaran smiled at him as she turned and walked away. Though his mind was centered on what he was about to do, the odd addition to Yavaran’s wish flashed into the teenager’s minds. He had never heard any Asharran use that phrase before. Perhaps it was because of that, the fact that it sounded so Earth like, that the suggestions of safety comforted him like a warm hug in his subconscious. It was something familiar to part of him and he was grateful for it. Time seemed to stop and start and work in ways beyond his comprehension as Torvik began to slowly walk around the chamber, now all alone except for the Oon, and the two large dragons. His steps were halting at first, definitely awkward, as his naked body was bathed in the deep red light filtered from the crystal ceiling above. 480

The Winds of Asharra Slowly he moved about the chamber, like some dancer or martial arts expert, beginning a routine but with more concentration and driven by a single minded purpose. Torvik felt every muscle in his young body tense and relax as he began to twirl around the room, recalling the image of his father, Evan Durant, as he waved the doh-rah blades in acrobatic arcs first one way and then another. Each arc and movement of the blades eventually ended the same, pointing simultaneously at each of the two great dragons at opposite walls of the chamber. The crimson light reflected off of the red semi-circular blades of the doh-rah, intensifying the color of the light which bounced around the shiny walls. His arm movements made him feel like a marionette puppet, being tied to the dragons, no matter how graceful or forceful his dance became. The pace of his footwork and the complexity intensified. Something in his greater mind had told him to shift his focus, reminded him that it was the opposite of concentration that he was seeking. It was union with the doh-rah and the dragons. The energy, the sha would only flow through them and the doh-rah to him and back again if he let go and allowed the Asha, the primeval force on Asharra, to take control. “What’s going on?” Ionera asked Yavaran as she attempted to stand on tip toes at the base of the incline and peer upwards at her young mate. “Be silent, child,” the silver haired Rohulu scolded her, oblivious to her concerns. Ionera caught a glimpse of Torvik’s nude body, his pink skin colored red by the crystal ceiling and glistening because of the sweat which now began to cover his body. Even at this angle and the infrequent glances of him which she could manage he looked like a creature possessed. This 481

R. Leigh was not the Torvik she knew and loved. This was something else. As he moved and danced, he was becoming pure Ya-sha, male energy, amplified by the dragons, centered by the presence of the Oon and expanded and transformed into Asha by the light coming through the red crystal ceiling. Torvik’s muscles began to ache and cry out to him as he moved but he ignored them. Unlike a trained dancer or martial artist, the boy from Earth did not have the stamina or the physique to keep up this activity for long. He felt his body tearing at him and taunting him but Torvik was determined to focus solely on his father and life on Earth. The entirety of his events on Asharra flashed through his mind as he danced and darted about the chamber. He saw visions of Zoe and their first fremming together. Images of Theyna and her warmth and understanding stood before him. Even the face of little Roqueetalu the child elder stared back at him, complete with his pure and comforting shout of “Kabwaalu!” Still, Torvik continued to move and weave about the small chamber, becoming dizzy now as well as tired. The Red Fire blades seemed to become like lead weights and it was an effort to swing them about and point them at the dragons at opposite ends of the room. The memories turned to hallucinations and Torvik imagined himself back on Earth as Victor, a shy, sensitive scholar, torn between his inner mouse and his inner tiger, not knowing who he wanted to become. He saw his school, his small circle of friends, and the comforting contents of his bedroom. Yes, he blinked his eyes for a moment and he was naked in his bedroom, spinning like a mad dervish dodging his bookcases, his bed and his computer desk. The sights and sensations were familiar but they were not real. His focus was shifting, though, to Earth, where it had to be for 482

The Winds of Asharra this doing. Even if he was truly Asharran in every other way, for this moment, he had to let his memory of his life on Earth flow through him and envelope him. “Home... home ... home...” Torvik chanted under his breath as he began to think of himself once again as Victor, a boy who admired his father and sympathized with his similar nature and sad plight. He visualized his father, a middle aged man in his forties, thin and balding. He saw and felt Evan Durant in his minds and recalled as many memories as he could endure. While the images of his father lecturing him on some arcane topic around the dinner table were the most obvious and the scenes of the Professor explaining some new artifact or scientific paper were the most common, Victor pushed beyond them to other things. He saw a sad man who missed his dead wife, a man who loved his work but wrapped himself up in it as a shield in fear of losing control and in fear of losing himself without her. He saw Evan Durant as much warmer and kinder than he even could recall as a child, not as his teacher but as his father and protector. Flawed or not, his father struggled to go on without his wife, Francesca, and raise his son, Victor as best he could. The boy from Earth continued to bounce about the stone chamber, flanked by the dragons and the moving plant ball, naked and possessed by the feelings learned on an alien world. Yet, here on Asharra, he was becoming himself at last and here he felt at home. That image collided with the picture he held of his father in his head. That was what he wished for his father... home. “Asharra, Ishanna, Osharra” he chanted as his body began to drip with sweat, creating soft reflecting pools on the floor. The dragons began to flap their wings in perfect time 483

R. Leigh with each other and their breathing became heavy and labored. The Oon sensed their increased stress and alarm at what was happening, Yet, the huge and powerful creatures were as caught in the spell of the unfolding events as The teenager from Earth was. Were they the marionettes or was he? Who was being carried along and by what? The distinctions between the dragons, the boy and the room itself began to blur and the only sound that Victor could hear was the pounding of his own blood, his pulse loudly beating in his ears. He felt like his head was going to explode but he continued this deadly dance even as his body temperature rose and his heart began to beat at a dangerous irregular pace. At the base of the incline, all of his friends and his young mate, waited for the conclusion of the Doing, holding their breath as they caught a flash of his naked body dancing faster and faster alone in the crimson chamber, It looked like he was flying now, propelled by what and for how long, they did not know. Victor twirled and danced and thrust out his arms, pointing the doh-rah at the dragons. His eyes had glazed over and he could not see straight. He moved on instinct, unaware that his feet were no longer touching the ground. A subtle breeze present in the room, almost forgettable by its ethereal presence had suddenly grown into a mighty gale. The force of the wind blew the boy’s hair in his face and then straight behind him as he continued to soar into the air and glide on its currents. The Winds were relentless and crackled with red light as they blew. He heard a small voice crying for help. It sounded like his father, a voice he knew all of his young life and then, in a moment, it became totally unfamiliar, the sound of the Eimiv. Reality and fantasy danced together in the chamber, twirling together and revolving endlessly until the 484

The Winds of Asharra distinctions between them were meaningless and empty. “Home...Asharra...Home!” the boy shouted as he flew around the room. The Oon suddenly found itself lifted off of the floor of the chamber, and was aloft, carried by the same invisible force. The plant creature attempted to send thoughts of comfort to the boy, yet urging him on, no matter the consequences. At the base of the incline, Ionera was become worried and agitated. She stole enough glimpses of the silhouette of her mate to know that something beyond her comprehension was happening. Still, Yavaran blocked her every attempt to go up the incline and free her mate from the spell he was under. She was crying and desperate to be with him. There was a flash of light and the boy collapsed onto the floor. His body was wracked with pain and sweat. He wanted nothing more than to sleep and postpone any conscious thought until some far future date. He was exhausted and could not continue his dance another step. “I’ve failed,” he thought to himself. “I’ve failed.” “But have you given up?” “No!” the boy shouted back. Then, he struggled to open his eyes. The voice had not come from within his head. It was not the Oon. He heard it with his own ears. “You only fail if you give up.” it said. “Dad!” The boy struggled to his feet and saw the unmistakable figure of Evan Durant standing there with him in the room. He was partially in shadow, thanks to the filtered red light, but the outline was clear. Standing there, equally as nude as he was, was his father. “Welcome home, “ he shouted to his father, as he managed to stagger to his feet to embrace him. 485

R. Leigh Hearing the shout, Ionera managed to bob and weave fast enough to evade Yavaran’s efforts at blocking her. She at last rushed the incline and saw a sight very strange and initially unfamiliar to her. “Well, tell me, son. Is this Atlantis, Lemuria or Shambala?” asked his father. “What?” his son replied, dazed by the experience and overcome that his father had somehow made the journey from Earth to Asharra after all. He looked at the man and the sight surprised him at first. His father was shorter than he remembered and looked older, now completely grey and with considerably less hair. “You’re on Asharra.” he explained, “but what’s happened to you?” “Just the passage of time.” Professor Durant sighed, “it has been ten years since you disappeared with Zoe.. Is she alright too?” “Yes...fine...Ten years?” “Though I must admit you look like you’ve aged less than half of that.. you look wonderful, Victor.” “It’s Torvik now.” Ionera answered as she stepped forward into the chamber. The sight of her naked orange body and odd ears and horns was alarming to Evan Durant and he stepped back at first but the warm smile on the gothic pixie’s face instantly alleviated his concerns. “This is Ionera, my mate.” Torvik replied as he took her in his arms. It was only then that he realized that something had changed. Ionera was now at least three inches shorter than he was, instead of being the same height. “Torvik, you’ve changed.” she half whispered but you 486

The Winds of Asharra are still the same to me.” She squeezed him and hugged him as though he had been gone for years. In a way, it was true. The Doing had suddenly aged Torvik by about four years. He now appeared as a normal 22 year old. He had lost four years of his life. No, that wasn’t correct. It was clearly as Yavaran had suggested. This type of Doing required a power as mighty as the Asharra-dobar and no charging of the doh-rah would have been sufficient. While the dragons would focus his sha and the crystal being would send it across the universe, it took nothing less than some of Torvik’s own life force, his ya-sha, to bring his father to Asharra. In a way, the father and son would come to perceive this as something akin to a kidney transplant on Earth. The son had willingly given up a part of himself to save his father. “You will always be the same to me, and I like your new look too!” Ionera purred as she grasped his dox. Evan Durant raised an eyebrow and glanced at his son. “We do things differently here.” Torvik smiled sheepishly. “I can see that.” came the reply. “Welcome to Asharra, Evan Durant, “ Yavaran announced as she entered the chamber. The Professor would have turned his full attention to the source of the voice, the silver haired Rohulu, if it weren’t for the fact that both of the two massive dragons in the chamber became visibly agitated at Yavaran’s arrival into the room, snorting and moving about from side to side, as best as they could in the confined space. Given the seemingly miraculous event which had just transpired, being transported from the familiarity of Earth to someplace 487

R. Leigh called Asharra, and being reunited with his missing son after ten long years, Evan Durant had somehow managed to overlook the presence of the two large reptiles standing hunched over at opposing sides of the room. “Are they what they appear to be?” he asked in a hushed whisper. “Real dragons,” Torvik chuckled to his father, “and they even breathe fire and smoke but that’s where the similarity to Earth legends end.” “That’s reassuring.” Professor Durant humbly smiled in return. Almost absentmindedly, he attempted to shoo away something fast and purple which was now buzzing about him, investigating the strange circumstances of his arrival. “Apparently, your bugs are quite large as well, “ he joked. “He’s not a bug... he’s a dreegin.” Ionera shouted, “and don’t hurt him. His name is Huff and he’s become very special to us.” The professor was visibly alarmed, not realizing that the blurred shape, which had now comfortably settled on the naked orange skinned female’s left shoulder was anything other than a large dragonfly. Well, apparently, he had gotten that half correct, the dragon half. By all appearances, the small purple creature was a miniature kitten size version of its two massive friends standing by either wall. Huff seemingly was unfazed by Evan Durant’s accidental swipe and proceeded to begin making a soft yet intricate la to indicate its satisfaction at the arrival of Torvik’s father on Asharra. “It sings?” the Professor asked. “Dreegins make la’s. The larger dragons don’t. I have a lot to explain to you.” Torvik laughed, as he reached over 488

The Winds of Asharra and gave Huff a friendly pat on the head. “In a way, you could say that they are related to us.” Yavaran explained in a more forceful voice, observing that she still hadn’t gotten the professor’s attention, as a result of both sizes of dragons and dreegins. “Oh my..” he at last exclaimed when he caught sight of the naked silver haired elder. The professor honestly did not know what to notice first when he gazed upon the nude Asharran Rohulu for the first time. Her skin was the same odd orange tone as Ionera’s and her ears were feline in nature. The existence of the large reptilian tail also was most alarming at first. Yet, being a middle aged male from Earth, now finding himself in front of Yavaran, Evan Durant found himself somewhat at a disadvantage. It was one thing for him to discover himself completely naked in front of his son, and his son’s apparent wife or more accurately, apparent mate. However, this newest introduction was more alarming, a strikingly attractive alien woman closer to his own age in appearance and also totally quite naked. His gaze darted from her face to her breasts to the silverly patch of hair between her legs and then back to the top. Much to Torvik’s surprise, his father’s dox began to stir, indicating an obvious interest in the Asharran elder. “Damn, “ the professor mumbled to Torvik, “same thing used to happen when your mother would take me to the nude beaches in Europe.” “You went to nude beaches?” Torvik repeated totally astonished. “Before you were born...it was the type of thing Francesca, your mother enjoyed. I haven’t thought of it in years” He turned toward Yavaran and then with an uncharac489

R. Leigh teristic flourish, gestured between his legs and offered a smile of apology. “I don’t know what manners or customs are appropriate here, madam, but I assure you my motives are sincere.” “You enjoy my body and would like to fremm me,” Yavaran cackled bluntly, to the professor’s astonishment “Your words are true but still ring of the shallowness of Earth. Your son will teach you our ways in time. We are glad the winds of Asharra have brought you here. I sense your path has been a difficult one.” Torvik’s father nodded in profound agreement at her last statement and and was grateful to the odd woman. She was right. He did find her sexually alluring in an odd familiar way but there was more to it than that. She reminded him of his wife in some baffling ethereal sense, not so much in overall appearance but in her manner and what it felt like to look into her eyes. Yes, her eyes seemed to be an almost exact copy of Francesca’s, as bizarre as that sounded. “How is that you speak our language?” the professor asked. Torvik was about to launch into some convoluted explanation of deep and shallow words but realized that it did not really address the root of the matter, the fact that they could communicate at all. “A gift from a traveler who is made of crystal called the Eimiv, “Yavaran smiled a bit more friendly than either Torvik or Ionera had ever seen her. “The Eimiv has changed the energy and particles in the wind so that you actually are speaking our tongue, except for the odd word here and there.” “Natural translation, what a curious adaptation.” the professor remarked. “What else has this creature done here?” 490

The Winds of Asharra “Dad, “Torvik interrupted what easily could have been a protracted conversation between the two, “There will be plenty of time for that later. Just tell me two things.” “Sure.” his father smiled politely. “It’s ok with you that I brought you here, right? I mean, instead of coming home.” “I would much prefer to be here, wherever he is exactly”, the professor grinned unexpectedly. Torvik thought that his father’s tone of voice seemed odd and unfamiliar to him. Granted, it was possible that part of this was do to his obvious reaction to Yavaran. That was as easy to interpret as looking between the professor’s legs. Still, there was something else, something almost relieved in his voice, that went beyond any happy thoughts of a family reunion. “Good, “ the teenager smiled, “but why did you think you were in Atlantis or those other places when you first saw me?” Evan Durant inhaled deeply in an effort to compose his thoughts, a technique he developed years ago when he first began teaching, a practice that was both comforting and useful to him.” “A lot has changed since you and Zoe disappeared.” he confessed. “I’ve spent the last ten years trying to determine where you vanished to and my conclusions bordered on the mythical since they all tied back to that artifact that disappeared with you.” “The Asharra-dobar, “ Ionera chimed in, “that’s what brought Torvik here in the first place. That’s what is does.” “I know.” “What do you mean you know?” asked his son, clearly perplexed. “Well, I don’t know anything about this place, but after 491

R. Leigh studying everything for the past ten years and determining that it was connected with that cube, I began to widen my search. I decided to examine if there were any other records of similar disappearances in history, myth, anywhere, really. It took ten years and still everything only hinted at some half forgotten connections with similar artifacts.” “And you found some... in China and Egypt and someplace in Europe?” Torvik remarked, recalling Yavaran’s original comments to him about previous Iramu from Earth coming from those locations. “Europe? No, I had not fully decided on that one as a match but now that you mention it ....” “Dad...” Torvik said, attempting to put his father back on track.” “Yes, yes of course, “ he smiled. “Anyway, you know that the fringe areas of archeology and history have always been a passion of mine. That was why the government brought me the artifact to study in the first place. They weren’t convinced I could solve the riddle for them but their other so-called experts, really just over inflated stuffed shirts on their payroll, had speculated that the carvings on the artifact might have something to do with a forgotten power source. What with the price of oil, and the interest of the government in maintaining the status quo of the energy companies, it was natural they wanted to corroborate that claim, just in case it proved true. Naturally, I was intrigued.” “So the government has been helping you to research this after Zoe and I left?” “Oh no, son, “ the professor nearly choked in surprise, “quite the opposite. I’ve been on the run for the past ten years. It’s the government both local and federal that have been after me. The local police were convinced I had mur492

The Winds of Asharra dered you and Zoe, perhaps that I did not approve of the two of you being together. When both of you disappeared, Zoe’s parents convinced the local police that I must have been involved since it was the last place the two of you were seen. I never really liked them you know. The federal authorities were chasing me for a very different reason. They did not care about your disappearance. They just wanted to know what happened to the artifact and they were convinced that I had sold it to a foreign country after discovering its secret.” “What?” Torvik exclaimed, “That’s ridiculous.” “Oh yes, it’s been quite an adventure. I’ve been living under assumed names and believe it or not, wearing disguises at times. I’ve even hooked up with some of my brother Artie’s old friends from when I was young. Did I ever tell you about the kind of people he used to associate with...I’m not sure I ever did. Naturally, most of them stopped being friendly with him when Artie decided to go to Vietnam instead of Canada, but he had a small underground cadre of acquaintances at that time, all against the war, and willing to smuggle him across the border. Pity, that Artie died in some rice paddy for nothing. I always thought that Artie would wind up living the adventurous life and I would be the bookworm. It’s ironic that the last 10 years for me have been like something out of a spy novel. I’ve never felt more alive and now I am more than ready to begin a new life here, wherever that is. I stopped considering Earth my home a long time ago, son and you should too. “ Torvik stared in pure disbelief at his father. This was not the homecoming he had expected. In fact, his father was not acting as he would have expected him to be as well. It was all very unsettling and almost surreal. 493

R. Leigh “So you’ve been on the run the entire time? And you say that it’s been ten years since I arrived on Asharra? You’ve been living off of the grid and hiding in different places? “Oh yes... all over the world in fact, although they almost got me twice.” “What happened to the house? Were you able to at least sell it first so that you could do all of this?” “Oh no..” the professor laughed, “it blew up before I could consider that.” “What? What do you mean it blew up?” “The paper said it was a gas explosion but I think it was the Feds covering their tracks after they ransacked it, looking for the artifact. It really upset the local police though. They hadn’t finished their own search. Some psychic even convinced them that you and Zoe were locked in a hidden room somewhere or buried under the floorboards.” Torvik placed his hand over his mouth and sat down on the bare floor, stunned and in total disbelief. He had assumed that the arrival of his father on Asharra would set the remaining pieces of his life right and allow him to put the past behind him. Realizing that his past had literally blown up over 10 years ago in Earth time and that his memories had all been tainted and tarnished left him dazed and further confused. Torvik had wanted to put his past behind him, having finally decided that his place, his home, was on Asharra but he had wanted it to be his own choice. It appeared that his Kokayniah was decided the moment he left Earth and landed on Asharra. All this time, all he was doing was catching up with the facts and slowly attempting to come to grips with them. As the initial conversation between Torvik and his father continued, Yavaran gestured to Ionera to come with 494

The Winds of Asharra her, and the two of them slowly exited the chamber, leaving the two traveler’s from Earth to themselves for the moment. The pair of large dragons, one white and one black, seeing the Rohulu’s action, prepared to shuffle out behind her, eager to return to the larger chambers inside the Zaya. “Contact us when you are ready. “ Yavaran said to Torvik as she prepared to leave the small dobar chamber. “I will inform the others what has happened, of your father’s arrival and your... change in appearance.” “We won’t be long... my dad is probably hungry.” “That is to be expected.” Yavaran smiled. “All Iramu are hungry when they first arrive. I trust you are as well, Evan.” “Yes, thank you.” the professor replied, catching the odd look in the eccentric alien’s eyes. “Now what was that about your appearance? Are you trying to tell me that a moment before I arrived here, you were still 18 years old?” “I feel like I am still 18, but obviously I’m not.” Torvik grinned as he stretched out his arms and legs. He was eager to find a chamber with a mirror stone to truly see his new form. He still had no idea what his older face looked like, though he was obviously reassured that it was still pleasing to Ionera. “Amazing. It’s been ten years for me but not for you. Either time passes differently here or the journey itself takes 10 years from Earth. That raises an interesting possibility.” the professor pondered as he joined his son, sitting cross legged on the floor. “What’s that?” “There’s a possibility that 20 years have now elapsed since you left, not ten. If the passage of time is perceived different here, and I just made the journey, perhaps another 495

R. Leigh ten years just elapsed as I traveled. Maybe we are about ten light years away, although that would not totally explain the time discrepancy.” “Dad, can we skip the theories for a moment? I mean, how can you concentrate on that when you have this incredible story about living on the run for ten years? I am stunned.” “I’ve had ten years to get accustomed to a massive change in my life, son. At first, it was a shock to arrive home and find both you and Zoe had disappeared. I didn’t know what to do so I phoned everyone, your friends, the school, everyone I could remember. Later on, the police claimed I wasn’t emotional enough on the taped calls, that it was some sort of evidence that I was lying, that I was behind your disappearance. I guess they never encountered a logical scientist before. I was just trying to put my emotions on hold and logically explore each of the possibilities but the more I did, the more it began to work against me.” Evan Durant looked at his son and placed his hand on his shoulder for solidarity. Torvik noticed a new and different presence in his father, a new strength that had somehow been born out of the professor’s ordeals. Yes, the scholarly side was still there, complete with the frequent absentminded bouts of impracticality. Still, there was something new, a side which Victor had never observed in his father. It was strong and wise and not at all the inflexible, calculating scholar. It was a man of feeling and risk and passion. It was the persona of a man who belonged on Asharra. “As far as incredible stories go, well son, you have to admit that yours tops mine in every way. I’ve been here five minutes and I’ve seen two, no three dragons as well as two very amazing and if I do say so myself, very attractive alien females. Your mate seems very nice. Are you really... married?” 496

The Winds of Asharra “We don’t call it that. We’re bonded mates and I love her more than life itself.” “And will she grow a tail as well?” the professor asked in the most non-judgmental of ways. “I mean, I am just curious.” “No, I don’t think so. It looks like she’ll have wings though. When I met her she didn’t have the horns and her ears were just like Yavaran. The Asharrans are descended from catlike creatures.” “Fascinating.” his father grinned, “I think I am really going to like it here.” The expression on Evan Durant’s face was new and different to his son. It was not the enthusiasm of a scholar, primarily concerned with just the search for new discoveries or even the pursuit of pure knowledge. That was something that his son was more than familiar with, as it had been common to observe his father reacting that way to every new trinket or research paper. No, this was clearly different. The intellectual side was still there and widely excited in its stuffy way, but behind it was something unusual and totally unfamiliar to the now 22 year old. His father had a look of adventure in his eyes. While no more muscular than before and supposedly ten year older than the last time he saw him, Evan Durant had been transformed internally. While he would still relish the possibility of chronicling everything about Asharra, the new Evan Durant was eager to experience it firsthand and live like an Asharran. The cool detached observer, so careful not to “go native” or become overly impressed with any romantic notions of the subjects of his study was gone. His father, though now older and even less imposing than before, was somehow more impressive and certainly more alive. If Torvik’s journey thus far had centered on concepts of 497

R. Leigh home and identity, desperately trying to learn how to fit in and where he belonged, his father’s journey seemingly had a parallel. It may have taken him ten years and cost him every possession he had as well as his identity on Earth, but Evan Durant had apparently found himself. He was at peace and happier than his son had ever seen. “So it’s Torvik, now, “he smiled, “I like it... very unusual. It gives you character.” “You think so?” “Of course, “the professor smiled broadly, “and if your mate likes it, what do you have to worry about. Your old problems might be ten light years away. This is your home.... our home now.” “But you haven’t even seen anything yet!” Torvik exclaimed, “And you can say that? Dad, you’ve really changed.” His father smiled, ignoring the comment, something he would never have done before. Instead he launched into a rapid fire drill of questions. “What color is the sky?” “Purple.” “And the plants?” “Yellow, brown, and some red” “How many moons?” “We don’t have one but we have two suns so it’s never completely dark out.” “Wonderful... any wars or soldiers?” “Not that I’ve seen.” “Criminals or police?” “I doubt that everyone’s perfect, but I haven’t heard about either one.” “Any computers, television or intrusive technology?” “No. We use crystals a lot and zim.” 498

The Winds of Asharra “Zim?” his father asked. “I’ll have to explain that to you. “Torvik laughed, “and remind Yavaran to get you some Zimma-linanda berries.” He recalled the small peanut sized green berries which transformed excrement into a sweet smelling compound used in a myriad of things. As best as he could, Torvik attempted to recount his experience with the Zimma berries and the blue and green zim he now regularly produced. His father roared with laughter, having never conceived of anything even remotely similar in any of his studies on Earth. “My boy, I don’t know why you and Zoe were brought here in the first place but I do know one thing.” “And what’s that?” Torvik asked intently. “I’m grateful to you for bringing me here and I’m never leaving, at least not willingly and it will take at least two of those big dragons of yours to take me kicking and screaming.” He clasped his hand over his son’s upper arm and gave him a knowing look. His father wasn’t much for great sentimentality but the tone of his words spoke volumes to his son. Although Evan Durant had been diligently grooming his son to follow in his footsteps, this was not a path that was completely comfortable for either of them. Now, with his own Kokayniah changed in the blink of an eye, even a blink which may have taken ten years, he was at last himself. In his own way, Evan was following in his son’s footsteps. “Do you think there’s a place here for an old out of work professor of useless knowledge?” he laughed. “You are not old,” chuckled Torvik, “and perhaps you are exactly what this place needs. Yavaran says that all Iramu, offworld visitors, arrive here and that she has to explain everything to them. How much better would it be if 499

R. Leigh there was a handy dandy guidebook for them?” “And what if the next visitors don’t read English or French or Latin?” the professor quipped, “I can’t write a book in languages I don’t know.” “No, but you can write it for yourself and read it to them. According to Yavaran, the spoken word is automatically understood, not counting some deep words here and there.” “Deep words?” his father puzzled, raising both of his eyebrows. “Oh yes, there’s a whole philosophy here. sort of like the best of Zen, Taoism, and ancient shamanism rolled up into one with some unique bits that I’ve never heard before. They consider crystals alive you know, for example, one of three modes of life.” “The woman did mention a crystal being. “ the professor recalled as he scratched his balding silver head. “Normally, I would discount crystals as being inert but if you would assume that all life does not have to be carbon based then perhaps a silicon based organism....” “Well it’s nice to see that some part of my father the professor is still in there, “ Torvik laughed out loud. While the happy conversation between father and son continued, there was much clatter inside of the Zaya. Yavaran had informed Shiara, Oppapalo and Wole of the newest events, the arrival of Torvik’s father and the change in appearance of Torvik himself. It was the subject of much discussion for each of them but for a variety of reasons. Oppapalo and Shiara were overjoyed that Torvik would now have a greater sense of grounding and continuity on Asharra. Since they had already more than accepted Torvik as family since his bonding with their daughter Ionera, the arrival of his father was also greeted with a sort of familial 500

The Winds of Asharra curiosity. Shiara and Oppapalo shared a common tie to the professor through the young bonded couple and were eager to assist him in his transition to life on Asharra in any way they could. Wole was instead more fascinated with the story of Torvik’s sudden change in appearance, supposedly aging four years in the blink of an eye. Wole had always known that the power of Asharran crystals was significant but to be able to utilize them in such a powerful doing was beyond his imagining. Utilizing one’s own lifeforce to change one’s appearance was something that struck a chord to the great blue bull. He privately wondered if Theyna would prefer it if he resembled the native born orange skinned Asharrans, rather than being instead a creature that appeared different and threatening. Even though the periodic arrival of Iramu from different worlds on Asharra meant that the native Asharrans came into contact with other forms of life, the numbers were still small enough to evoke curious stares. Wole wondered if he would give up some measure of his own life force if the Red Fire doh-rah blades could transform him into just another copper skinned Asharran. Even the most well meaning of stares would end. The massive bull reminded himself to speak to Torvik of this. For Ionera, the arrival of Torvik’s father was a subject of great delight. She felt that his very presence on Asharra would provide her the wonderful opportunity to quiz him on all aspects of her mate’s life while on Earth. She wasn’t just interested in the events and the strange things which made Earth so different than Asharra. No, she wanted to know everything about Torvik’s life before he met her. She wanted to understand all of the memories that Zoe must possess of a much younger Torvik, back when he was 501

R. Leigh called Victor Durant. She did not resent Zoe for having this knowledge firsthand but it did bother her that she did not. Now, with the arrival of Evan Durant, Ionera could endeavor to learn more about her mate and about the world he came from before arriving on Asharra. She wondered how she could help him should he ever become homesick or troubled. Having this extra insight from his father might enable her to be a more perceptive and loving mate. She felt that Torvik was slowly stripping away layer after layer of his old Earth life, as he was settling into a new identity as an Asharran. Still, there were moments when she sensed his indecision or confusion on how to assimilate or adapt an Earth concept to Asharra. Perhaps, now she could understand him in ways that she could not previously. Yavaran outwardly spoke the least about the arrival of Evan Durant and the changes in Torvik’s appearance, apart from delivering the news of both to the rest of the group. Her observations and feelings on both subjects were complex and kept to herself. In truth, her feelings were the deepest of all on these subjects and were difficult for her to contain. On one hand, she was overjoyed that Torvik was unharmed as a result of the Meeru Doing, despite the loss of four years of his sha. She knew it would strengthen him and force him to perceive the greater Asha in a much more direct way around him. Yavaran felt that the arrival of Torvik on Asharra held great promise for a variety of reasons. Only he and Ionera together could possibly hope to help the crystal being, the Eimiv, who had done so much for Asharra. The amount of dreegin blood in Yavaran was not sufficient to establish two way communication with the Eimiv, whenever she put on the red crystal pendant. She did feel a greater sense of connection with life on Asharra 502

The Winds of Asharra but that was primarily because the Eimiv was unconsciously acting as a focal point. She experienced the mystery of the Asharran Ways without such assistance but with this extra sensation, she gained greater insight. All of her knowledge had been sent to her by the Eimiv, as it was to her predecessors who dedicated themselves to a life of service, to aiding Iramu who would arrive on Asharra. Now, it was becoming more difficult for her to don the crystal pendant and communicate with the Eimiv. She could still feel her connection with all life on Asharra heightened whenever she wore it, but instead of receiving any new insight or scrap of knowledge, all she felt were the cries for help emanating from the crystal being. She was incapable of responding. She did not have the correct mix of native Asharran blood and dreegin blood to enable her to communicate with the Eimiv or to selectively search its thoughts. She could only listen to what was being transmitted and that was now consistently alternating between generic calls for help and a few cryptic words or phrases somehow associated with this needed assistance. Most recently, just before his arrival on Asharra, Yavaran had heard the Eimiv transmit the word “Torvik” to her via the crystal pendant. The creature was obviously keenly aware of what was going on, though it possessed no eyes or ears. Somehow, Yavaran knew that young Torvik had to struggle to determine his own Kokayniah, his path. She felt his original battles with questions of identity and his longing to discover his true home but she was powerless to interfere. He had to find his own way, not through deliberate planning, but through Uatu, action without effort. Perhaps now, aged four years, Torvik might be able to perceive the mystical winds blowing around him in ways he could not before. Perhaps now, he would have a greater maturity and 503

R. Leigh less troublesome conflict within. Yavaran , however, was still troubled since it was far from certain whether Torvik would accept his Kokayniah and embark on a life to enrich all of Asharra. She felt that his first trial was soon approaching and hoped the winds would gently push him towards the best of choices. The matter of the arrival of Evan Durant was something equally unsettling to Yavaran but in an unexpectedly positive way. He was the first offworld arrival who was not strictly Iramu, not having been invited via the Asharra-dobar. In fact, he had been invited by Torvik directly, something never done before. The significance of what he had done was immense and as was her custom, Yavaran chose not to reveal this to Torvik for fear it would have frightened him beforehand and unnecessarily confused him afterwards. Evan Durant was an exciting curiosity to Yavaran. If his arrival on Asharra was not due to the Asharra-dobar, did that mean that the wisdom of the Eimiv was not involved? Was there instead an even greater wisdom at work here, that of the Asha itself, the primal energy of the winds? She did not know. Similarly, Yavaran sensed a strange connection to the older man from Earth. Outwardly, he bore no resemblance to Drimai, her bonded mate, now long since dead. Still, it was clear to the Rohulu that something about this strange being from Torvik’s home world seemed oddly familiar. She had only been in front of him for a few moments but something about the way he held his head and the way he spoke was comforting and familiar. Perhaps there was something of Drimai in him, for the Asharrans believed that death was merely the separation of the particles and energy of a creature. These building blocks would disperse and provide raw material for soil, air and even suns in the 504

The Winds of Asharra sky. Perhaps in some way, a few of the energy and particles of her mate, Drimai, traveled the distance from Asharra to Earth and became a part of Evan Durant. The Ways of Asharra held open many possibilities and any could therefore be embraced if they seemed to manifest themselves. One thing was clear. Inside the Zaya, there was an eccentric elder, a natural Rohulu that was seen by most as crusty Firo bread. Inside, however, she was soft and pliable and warm. The sudden arrival of Evan Durant touched that hidden space inside her tender center and reignited a familiar feeling that had seemed long since dead. Yavaran decided to address this situation in the most natural of Asharran ways, ignoring it but remaining totally open to it. She would allow the winds to carry her where they would. Privately, however, she held her breath. The next several ya-cycles were glorious and exciting for all concerned except for Wole. The large blue steer was growing increasingly restless at the prospect of being apart from Theyna, his mate-to-be, for so long a time. His passion for the orange skinned beauty was primal and boundless and he was increasingly aching for both her warm smile, soothing voice and most of all, the familiar snug and moist comfort having his dox inside of her. Finally, he could not stand the persistent longing and approached Yavaran and Shiara, announcing that he would have to temporarily leave the Zaya to be reunited with his mate-to-be. After delivering his impassioned plea, both Shiara and Wole assumed that Yavaran was going to be difficult, judgmental and stubborn in her opposition to the bull’s blunt demands. Unexpectedly, nothing could have been further from reality. The Rohulu was not only reasonable but uncharacteristically pleasant and polite, apologizing to Wole for any inconvenience and even patting him on the 505

R. Leigh head in a very unnervingly friendly way. “You are sure that you have no objection?” Wole grunted, caught off guard by the elder’s happy demeanor. It disturbed him in some basic way since it seemed so out of character. “I have no objection at all, in fact, I welcome the opportunity to meet your mate-to-be. Bring her back here with you after you two have fremmed to your satisfaction. I would like to meet her.” Shiara looked quizzically at Yavaran, stunned and amazed by the apparent warmth and sincerity of her words. “Don’t just stand there, silly nish.” Yavaran suddenly snapped at her, “our friend here will need directions back to Asharra-Kibur.” The sudden change in Yavaran’s tone of voice from sweet to sour actually reassured Shiara in a perverse sort of way. This was the Yavaran she knew and to which she was accustomed. This Yavaran she could understand. “As you are, “ Shiara offered. “Why did you play those silly games in the first place, having us arrive through the mosaic circle and the tunnel?” Wole asked, recalling the drama of the dragon induced smoke and fire which preceded his arrival into the cave like tunnel which ran underground from the Osharra circle to the entrance of the Zaya. “Just the caution of age, “ cackled Yavaran, whipping her tail about, causing the reflective scales to shimmer and sparkle. “The location of this structure is a secret, hidden as it is on all sides by tall trees and vegetation. I had to be certain that only my invited guests were allowed entry.” “A simple note to us with clear directions here would have achieved the same end, “ snorted Wole, unable to contain his thoughts. 506

The Winds of Asharra Shiara tensed her muscles. Normally, such a comment would have resulted in an abrasive attack from Yavaran, or at least a shower of annoyed replies. She gazed at the silver haired elder and knew immediately from the almost serene expression on her lined face, that no such action was forthcoming. “My ways are my ways, “ she laughed at the bull, “and I wished to guarantee that you would not be followed, either by the well meaning or the curious. Much to my regret, I feel that Asharra is not yet ready to learn of the secret of the Meeru and the existence of the Eimiv.” “On this we have disagreed, “ Shiara frowned, turning towards Wole. “Yavaran believes that the existence of the Eimiv might provoke fear if the extent of his power were known.” Wole scratched his tezz and pondered the concept for a moment. There was some justification for this perspective in his minds, since it appeared at first glance to run counter to what all Asharrans had been taught. It was the cornerstone of Asharran philosophy that their individual paths were connected and had the potential at least to collectively enrich their world. The possibility that circumstances ranged from their own evolution to the weather could have been manipulated by a single being would be jarring to most and probably difficult to accept at first. The Asha, the primal energy which effected all was without form but the Eimiv was not. Yavaran was not only worried that the Asharrans might fear the crystal creature. She was even more concerned that some Asharrans might worship it as divine, something usually considered ridiculous on Asharra, a world where personal gods had long since been exposed as empty and false. “But the Eimiv is just an Iramu of sorts, another trav507

R. Leigh eler, “ Wole remarked, “it is carried along by the winds, like everything else that lives. “ Yavaran presented an almost maternal smile to the blue steer and licked her lips before replying. “My words lack the deepness necessary to convey this to everyone on Asharra and I fear that without clear and true words spoken to every living thing, there would be the terrible possibility of the creation of something to be worshiped or feared. I do not know which is more shallow. Both have lead to great emptiness in the past on this world, Wole, long before even the first Iramu arrived.” Wole nodded in reluctant agreement as he recalled the legends of his youth, told to him, not by his parents, who were born offworld, but rather by his teachers in the blue crystalline school buildings. They were native born orangeskinned Asharrans. The occasional tales of mythical times, only half remembered, were as frightening as they were amazing. They were stories that told of long ago, when Asharrans were warlike and petty and divided themselves up into arbitrary groups or clans. Each worshiped some totemic deity, a personification of their hopes and fears. While some of these tribal gods were regarded as benevolent by their believers, the actions of the faithful were always the same, bigoted and even bloodthirsty. It was only when the last god was crushed underfoot by the survivors of a longstanding war of two Asharran theocratic citystates, that a lasting peace that did not require obedience and praise, began to spread through Asharra. The mythic hero of the tale, Lepandiron, the GodKiller, was regarded as the first Rohulu and the last ruler over any of the Asharrans. He was the first and only philosopher-king, responsible for many of the core Asharran beliefs including the mystical Asha, the benevolent energy 508

The Winds of Asharra that binds all living things without any need for gods or goddesses. Reluctantly elected as ruler of Asharra, Lepandiron eventually dissolved this office and all remotely similar, when he was certain the newly enlightened Asharrans could thrive with the comforting knowledge of the interconnection of their own sha and the collective Asha. When it was clear that they would not regress into mindless worship of Gods in the sky and their representatives on Asharra, the wise elder replaced the autocratic governing bodies with a loose almost invisible decentralized network of lu’s and Rohulu’s, experts and elders who only offered experience and advice in narrow fields and never imposed. Somehow, instead of crumbling into anarchy, the inherent compassion of the new philosophy of the Asha, resulted in a system far stronger and more stable than any it replaced. Asharrans happily burned their tribal flags and destroyed the old temples and places of worship. The transition from priestly warrior kings to mystical philosopher king took its final step as rulers of any kind were universally regarded as a shallow crutch, and universally rejected by all. Yavaran was only being cautious. The only thing worse than a fear of the Eimiv was its deification. It had taken millenia for the Asharrans to outgrow their gods in favor of the mystical sha which connected them together and carried them along like a warm breeze blows a leaf into the air. The wise elder did not wish them to abandon all of the centuries of progress, peace and universal compassion. To resurrect the dead corpse of religion would bring only division, blind obedience and a return to a petty and shallow behavior, forsaking any natural enjoyment of life in order to appease a capricious master and lord who never existed in the first place. 509

R. Leigh “What if there was a way to convince everyone that the Eimiv was just another living being?” Wole offered, “You and Shiara would not be in danger of becoming high priestesses to be revered or feared as agents of some great Empty Power?” “In that case, I would dance with you in the Osharra Circle until the Suns went dark. I would open the Zaya to all and fill it with laughter and adolescents.” Yavaran flashed a bittersweet grin. “Show me how, Wole and I will do these things faster than a friznaggle.” The blue steer had no words with which to reply. He could offer only hope. Any detailed plan eluded his grasp and he sadly frowned before the elder, attempting to convey his heartfelt regret and frustration. “There is a hidden path that leads from the Zaya, “ Shiara finally interrupted, changing the conversation back to more mundane matters. “It is overgrown and difficult to follow in some places, but it eventually connects with some of the smaller paths you may know. They will ultimately join with the main path to Osharra-Kibur. Let me show you.” Wole bowed his shaggy head in respect to Yavaran and uttered a small snort of inner frustration. He was unexpectedly filled with many conflicting thoughts and his impression of the crusty old Rohulu had been subtly altered. It bothered the blunt and caustic bull, who was accustomed to viewing things in plain and simple terms, to view Yavaran as far more sympathetic and complicated than he had originally thought. “Return with your Theyna as soon as you are able.” she shouted to Wole, as the bull and Shiara turned away from her and headed down the corridor that would eventually lead both of them outside and under the purple sky. 510

The Winds of Asharra The universe suddenly had turned right side up for Professor Evan Durant. For the past several days, he had been enjoying the hospitality of the Asharran people and learning the initial tantalizing fragments of what he hoped would become an almost inexhaustible repository of cultural knowledge about his new homeworld. Supplied with not only his own sleeping quarters but also a comfortable space for a combination study and workshop, the professor had not felt this alive and vibrant in years. His days were a confusing kaleidescope of activities, including early morning meals, called Ya-to, with Oppapalo and Shiara, which were filled with stories and anecdotes about Asharran customs and culture. Evan began to look forward to these early breakfasts of fruits and Reej crepes with his new friends and these daily rites rapidly became a two-way exchange of information and experiences. Oppapalo and Shiara immediately took to the Earthly scholar and made him feel welcome, not only to their planet, but to their family as well. For his part, Evan Durant was overwhelmed by the openness and the lack of pretense on the part of the orange skinned couple. After spending his life on Earth, where formality and correctness were often the norm, being able to sit back and share his thoughts and feelings without any regard for social convention was refreshing and unusual. He was equally relieved and thrilled to discover their affection for his son, now called Torvik, and their joy at his bonding with their daughter, Ionera. The three shared many parental recollections, fondly remembering archetypal moments raising their respective adolescents. Still, the images of course, did not exactly correspond. The professor was amazed when the Asharrans asked him about the details of his son’s first sexual experiences, something that 511

R. Leigh would have been perfectly normal to them. In fact, they repeatedly apologized for their lack of information concerning Ionera’s initial sex play. Evan quickly learned that Ionera had been very unusual by Asharran standards, growing up perpetually nude and permitted any form of personal expression but refraining from most of them. Shiara quietly confided to the professor that she was so relieved to hear how frequently that his son and her daughter now fremm with wild abandon and how much pride she felt whenever her daughter would happily describe the intimate details. Oppapalo even recounted in great detail, his observations by the triangular arch at the entrance to Osharra-kibur, how his 18 year old was fremmed by Evan’s son. “And they just did this by the side of the road, in public?” the professor sighed, surprised but almost admiringly as he stroked his balding head. “Oh yes, “ Oppapalo beamed with pride, “You would have enjoyed it, Evan. I saw their passion for each other come alive and I knew even before they did that they would become bonded mates.” “I’m surprised you haven’t seen them fremm since you arrived here, “ Shiara offered. The professor explained that he assumed that his son was deliberately giving him some proverbial space since his arrival on Asharra was already quite a jolt to his system and psyche. “Don’t you be concerned about such shallow things, “Shiara reassured the scholar from Earth, “They are both young and true mates. I am sure they will be fremming in front of you in no time.” The professor attempted to smile politely and stifle a small but uncomfortable gulp. Thanks primarily to the efforts of his deceased wife and her position on public nudity, 512

The Winds of Asharra Evan Durant did not have too much trouble adapting to the nakedness inherent in Asharran culture. The overt sexuality was another thing. Still, he reasoned that if their ways were so completely open and honest in all other aspects of life, it only was to be expected that sexuality would enjoy the same benefits of this philosophy. It was clear that the inhabitants of this planet did not suffer from the sort of repression and sexual frustrations which on Earth, were often channeled into aggression, or domination. On Asharra, there was no evidence of sex being perverted into everything from advertising to overt demeaning ranking and judging of appearances. On Asharra, everything was literally out in the open, both in appearance and activity. Both sensuality and sexuality existed in their purest forms and were taught to adolescents as their happy birthright, not as a hushed and ashamed function best described behind locked doors. Even though the thought of his young son and Ionera fremming in public whenever and however they pleased, initially made Evan Durant uncomfortable due to his Earthly upbringing, he consciously decided to override such feelings and actually allowed himself to wonder and even look forward to the first opportunity to witness the young couple openly and publicly enjoying each other. After all, according to his new Asharran friends, Shiara and Oppapalo, there was no greater joy for a parent, then to see their offspring reaching orgasm with their mate. It was the mark signaling the completion of a parent’s job well done. A portion of the professor’s afternoons were often spent outside of the Zaya, strolling around the immediate area of the structure in the company of Yavaran, the enigmatic Asharran elder, whose manner strangely captivated him. On one level, the experiences with the Rohulu were the 513

R. Leigh most beneficial since she imparted a great deal of specific knowledge about Asharran culture to the professor. This was accomplished both through long discussions on a wide variety of subjects as well the result of an odd ritual or Doing, which involved walking through a patch of bare red soil, after the Asharran had zeed upon it. Somehow, the experience assisted the middle aged man of science in understanding the shades of meaning hidden within the Rohulu’s comments and wisdom. He speculated that it was some strange biochemical reaction between her body fluids and the native Asharran soil, perhaps altered by the Eimiv, coming in contact with the soles of his bare feet and entering his system. Regardless. Evan Durant was rapidly assimilating as much Asharran knowledge as possible and feeling as though he was twenty years younger. Yavaran proved to be a treasure trove of data and insight into Asharran history and their way of life. She agreed to provide the professor with some material called trelov which would serve as a parchment similar to papyrus. That, coupled with some hand made ink made from a local dark berry would supply him with the raw materials to catalog both his experiences and observations as well as a transcription of the vast oral historical tradition of the Asharrans. Without a definitive concept of time (in a land of two suns where it was always today) and lacking the type of markers so familiar to him (such calendar years, names of months or even names of countries) it would prove a challenge to the man from Earth but one which he would savor to the final word. Now, after ten years on the run from the authorities on Earth and having rejected most of Earth culture and practices, Evan was reclaiming a side of himself long hidden. His son taught him of the Asharran concept of the twin 514

The Winds of Asharra minds and his own spin on the subject, the hypothetical existence of his inner mouse and his inner tiger. Evan reflected that it had taken ten long years on Earth to drive his own inner mouse into hiding and enable his inner tiger, now a bit more educated to come to the forefront. He was amazed that his son apparently managed to achieve the same thing on Asharra during the course of a few short weeks, as he experienced time. For that, Evan Durant was grateful, almost as grateful as the generosity and warmth of the few Asharrans he had met thus far. The closest thing to an exception had occurred when he had been introduced to the large creature, who in the professor’s learned eyes, resembled a large mythical minotaur who had been dipped in blue paint. It did not matter that it called itself Wole. To someone schooled in the finest universities on Earth, the blue bull like creature could easily have stepped from the Labyrinth of King Minos of ancient Greece, regardless of the unique color of his hide. It mattered little to the professor that the creature called itself a Loak and was commonly known by the name of Wole. Unfortunately, it was a revelation to the man of learning that the great beast would take exception to having what amounted to a simple medical physical, a commonplace occurrence on Earth but one apparently distinct enough from those performed by healers on Asharra, that it caused the great bull to react with horror and open disgust. The growling in protest was admittedly disturbing to the professor. The loud snorting also came as a surprise although the intent was clear and obvious. Evan Durant should have realized that a final straw had been broken when, during an examination of the creature’s ears, he made the now obvious mistake of commenting on the buildup of wax inside. How could the professor have 515

R. Leigh known that the otherwise friendly attempt to scrape some of the substance from the bull’s outer ear would be met with loud shouts and result in a long deep scratch on his right arm, due to sudden contact with the creature’s horns when it had abruptly turned its head during the medical exam. “Don’t touch my ears.” Wole had clearly said in a deep baritone which suggested further action if he was ignored. No, the professor did not conclude that he had made a new friend that day and he was not entirely disappointed when the great steer announced that he was temporarily returning to the town, the Osharra, to be with his mate-to-be. Professor Durant speculated if she too was a large blue bull or if the species came in different colors. Fortunately, he would not have to inquire about this directly to Wole when he would return, thanks to his son Torvik, who had informed him of the remarkable piece of information that the love of Wole’s life was not a female minotaur at all but a gorgeous orange skinned Asharran with long dark hair. Compared to such activities, the afternoon walks with Yavaran were not only enlightening, they were safer. It amused the professor as he recalled it, during one of his strolls with Yavaran. The tranquil surroundings seemed to naturally diminish the intensity of any worry and cause it to fade from consciousness. Even the simple sights and sounds of Asharra were special and important to the him. Sitting under the canopy of one of the local trees, upon a bed of golden grass like vegetation, and gazing up at the twin suns, Yi and Ya, under the purple sky, was a transformational moment for him. “It’s almost beyond my imagining, “ he sighed to Yavaran, as he lazily twirled a golden blade of sweet smelling grass near his long nose, inhaling its essence. 516

The Winds of Asharra “Surely you have such things on your world.” she purred. “Trees and grass? Oh yes, but there is something special here, madam, a sort of peacefulness that is on the wind.” “Your words are deeper than you realize, Evan”, she smiled, something which she was doing more than she had in years. “Your philosophy... yes I know.” “It’s more than that. “ she whispered. “Oh yes, it’s a way of life. “ Evan agreed, “but it’s also a marriage of philosophy and physics. Your talk of energy and particles would be equally welcomed by our Zen mystics on Earth as well as our scientists. What would be the shocking thing, is that both of them would agree completely and that it actually exists here in such a form that you can almost feel it.” “That wasn’t what I was referring to, “ the older Asharran smiled as she happily thumped her dragon tail upon the grass several times in a slow steady beat. Without warning she leaned back on the soft golden carpet and spread her legs, tilting them to the side just enough to allow her tail free movement. “Fremm me.” she said, in a clear voice. Evan Durant was stunned. The unusual mutual attraction between he and Yavaran might have taken months on Earth to progress to this stage and no doubt he would have endured more than enough soul searching and introspection about his feelings and the appropriateness of the situation. That was not the Asharran way. That was not natural. “I warn you that I’m very of out practice with this, “ he laughed nervously as he began to position his body over hers. Yavaran grabbed his dox without warning and looked 517

R. Leigh into the professor’s eyes and smiled at him as he emitted a grunt of pure pleasure. “I see no difficulty. “ she whispered as she eased him into her. Within moments they were fremming and once more, Evan Durant’s world took a quantum jump in consciousness. The years on the run while on Earth dissolved in importance in his mind as he thrust deeper inside of Yavaran and felt her buck her hips upward to match him. He had just met her days ago and found much about her unpredictable but still, he felt like he had known her for years. There definitely was something of Francesca in her and it was not just the similar turn of a phrase of facial expression. She sensed it too. A piece of her Drimai was inside of this Earth scholar and had fused with his ya-sha. “We have just met but we haven’t” he stammered. “The winds of Asharra blow across the universe, Evan, “ the Rohulu remarked, “not just on this planet.” The pace of his movement increased until finally he stiffened, coinciding with her own climax. They were silent and perfectly still for a moment, savoring the unique fragment of time when they were joined in all ways. “My science has no explanation for this, “ he remarked as he still lay there, stroking Yavaran’s long reflective hair.” “What is true rarely requires a label, “ she smiled wisely. “Are you a new love found or an old love rediscovered?” Evan whispered to her, as he closed his eyes. “Does it matter?” Evan turned his head to one side abruptly. The words were appropriate but the voice was wrong. It was younger. He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder to see the 518

The Winds of Asharra now familiar sight of another naked body. “Ionera.” Yavaran purred, “we have been fremming.” “I am so happy to see that.” she smiled, “ and Torvik is with me as well.” Hearing that, Evan Durant unceremoniously rolled off of the Asharran elder. Several drops of his cum dripped down from his dox onto Yavaran’s body as he struggled to turn around and see what was going on. “Hi Dad.” Torvik chuckled, having been silent up until this moment. “Having fun?” There were perhaps a few dozen appropriate responses running through Evan Durant’s mind at that precise moment. He wisely chose to ignore all of them and instead just laughed openly at the sight of the young nude couple standing next to him. His son wore an equally conflicted grin on his face. The situation was obviously awkward for the two of them and they were both equally uncertain how to proceed. After a few moments, the little Asharran nish decided to break the verbal silence with some wisdom of your own. “We are grateful for the wonderful suggestion. May we share this spot?” Both father and son looked at the naked 18 year old in stunned silence. Before they could even think of any response, Yavaran cackled and offered her own. “Certainly child, please entertain us with your own fremming.” Ionera needed no further encouragement as she grabbed Torvik by both of his wrists and pulled him down to the soft grass and mounted him. Evan Durant watched in amazement as he saw his son, a few feet from him fremm the little alien nymph. Without any regard for his father’s presence, Torvik reached out and grabbed Ionera’s small 519

R. Leigh shalas, one in each hand before they synchronized their body movements into a harmonious up and down movement. “Oh fremm!” he grunted as he at last experienced release. His young mate tensed her body a moment or two later, obviously attaining the same state. The young couple then collapsed in each others’ arms, clearly spent and at last fully relaxed. “Their feelings are as true as their actions.” smiled Yavaran to Evan as she finally stood next to him. He took her hand in his and together they gazed down at Torvik and Ionera in total approval. “Your Ionera is very wise.” Yavaran glanced at the smirk on Evan Durant’s face and offered a small nod of her head in response. “Here on Asharra, we all have something to learn.” she remarked, flashing an extra smile in the direction of the now fully contented 18 year old. “Even for a Meeru, Ionera is a surprise and a delight.” Without any further comment, Evan Durant and Yavaran left the spot, hand in hand, her dragon tail happily swinging to and fro as they lazily headed toward the overgrown path which circled the Zaya. Overhead, a small purple dreegin darted about, high enough not to be noticed by the creatures below. Huff was becoming quite fond of his wingless friends and made a special la just for himself. He had spent most of the early daylight hours of the ya time conversing with the two large dragons and learning their secrets about the Eimiv. Not too far away but separated by many winding paths a very different scene was unfolding, one that was decidedly less tranquil and certainly at a higher volume level. 520

The Winds of Asharra “You’re going to break my arm.” the Asharran yelped in pain. “I am only going to inflict pain. “ Wole contradicted the stranger. “If I had intended to break it, it would be broken.” “Theyna!” the young Asharran cried out in obvious distress. Within moments, the tall orange skinned Asharran arrived at the main chamber within her rented blue crystal Osharra. Only a few steps behind her was her surrogate birth-sibling from Earth, Zoe. “Wole, stop that, you’re hurting him.” Theyna ordered in a stark tone of voice which left no room for interpretation. “He was touching my stuff, the presents I had given you, “ the bull snorted in disgust, “who is this dox?” “My name is Mefindam.” answered the Asharran, in a nervous voice, still feeling the great bull’s hands on his left arm.” “He’s my brother, Wole.” Theyna shouted. “And he’s going to be my mate.” Zoe announced, also to the bull’s amazement. “No one tells me these things.” Wole mumbled as he reluctantly released Mefindam from his viselike grip. “And who is this?” Mefindam angrily asked Theyna, pointing to the blue bull, asking the question only after he was several paces away from him. “He’s my mate to be, my brother.” Theyna chuckled. “This is your mate to be?” “I am not a this.” Wole snorted, as two small puffs of steam began to rise from his snout. Theyna immediately sensed the extent of her belove d’s frustration and, realizing the urgent need to calm him down, attempted to play peacemaker, taking each of them 521

R. Leigh by the hand and attempting to separate them. “We’re just one big happy family, aren’t we?” Zoe giggled, seemingly oblivious to Wole’s outburst. “There will be no breaking of arms.” Theyna ordered. “He started it, “ came a snort.” “I don’t care.” “I am her brother. “ Mefindam repeated, indignantly. “And he did not know that. Besides, Wole does not appreciate having anyone handle the gifts he made for me.” Theyna explained, gesturing to the delicate handmade crystal statues created in her image by the large blue bull.” “I wasn’t going to break them.” remarked Mefindam, in a less threatening voice.” “That is fortunate for you.” Wole snorted. Mefindam took a step backwards and decided not to continue the conversation, despite his clear surprise at discovering that Wole was to be the mate of his sister and thus a relative of his. The look on Wole’s craggy face indicated that his opinion of this turn of events was similar. “Break one of those and you’ll have to be his apprentice until your are old and grey” Zoe warned Mefindam. “Oh, about that...” Wole muttered in an almost inaudible tone. “Tell her.” “Tell me what?” Zoe asked, looking first at Theyna and then at the blue bull. “I don’t want to” Wole grunted. “Oh all right.” said Theyna, “It’s about your apprenticeship at the shop. It was only supposed to last until the next yi time.” “One day?” Zoe suddenly shouted, “I was only supposed to work off what I broke for one day? I thought that statue I broke was valuable.” 522

The Winds of Asharra “It was in the dhzahla bin...” Wole explained. Needing no further translation, Zoe fumed openly, “It was on clearance... it was junk?” “It was not junk” Wole bellowed. “It was not junk.” Theyna repeated in a softer tone, “It just wasn’t one of Wole’s more popular pieces.” “Then why have I been slaving away all this time? Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why didn’t you tell me?” she yelled, clearly full of feminine rage at this apparent travesty. Wole looked his massive bare feet and then haltingly back up at the nish from Earth. “After the single ya time, I sensed you had .... promise.” “I had what? “Talent.. natural talent.” Wole explained. “So, the only reason why you didn’t tell me I didn’t have to keep working as your apprentice was ....” “You were much more talented than the two others I have full time at the shop, “ Wole interrupted. “I felt if I had told you there was a strong possibility that you would not choose to explore this skill.” “You lied to me.” Zoe stuttered, “that is not Asharran.” “Technically, my race was not from Asharra.” Wole countered. “Besides, I was enjoying watching your progress. With additional training and my guidance, you might even someday progress enough so that....” “Tell her....” Theyna instructed the bull. “So that I can take in a partner.” “A partner?” Zoe beamed with obvious delight, “Me? Of course, me. That is great....” She twirled around and hugged the great steer, even kissing him on the lips. Wole turned towards the tall copper skinned Asharran dox and unexpectedly roared with laugh523

R. Leigh ter, slapping Mefindam on the back with enough force to send him toppling toward a pile of looshie cushions on the floor. “You did that on purpose.” Theyna whispered to him in mock disapproval. “Prove it.” he mumbled back. “I have an idea” announced Zoe as she continued to dance around the room. “Have any of you guys ever heard of a group wedding?” “I only desire to have one mate.” Wole snorted. Zoe laughed and explained the concept to the Asharrans. After only a little discussion, the three of them agreed with her and set off for the Osharra circle. Deeming it a true and worthy idea, they would perform the appropriate Doings as soon as possible at the Circle and all become bonded. Wole had decided that waiting for his aged parents was no longer possible. He had to have Theyna as his mate now. The four of them left the blue crystalline building, walking with an extra jump to their steps, toward the ceremonial circle. “Don’t ever touch my things.” Wole whispered to Mefindam. “Consider it some advice from one family member to another .” The events which transpired after the quartet arrived at their intended destination, the Osharra Circle, were now somewhat of a blur to all involved. Zoe had calculated that approximately five or six of the Asharran days must have passed since the two pairs of lovers performed the necessary Doings to officially become bonded mates. Theyna recalled the sexual marathon they performed for the crowd, far in excess of what was required for bonding. She also had a dim recollection of returning back to her own private 524

The Winds of Asharra osharra with Wole and continuing to celebrate their new status as a bonded couple in the most obvious way, by coupling until they collapsed, which they did with great regularity. Pausing only to sleep and then desperately gather up any morsels of nourishment in her home, Theyna and Wole celebrated their bonded status until every inch of her bodies ached with simultaneous pleasure and pain. A similar series of occurrences was transpiring in the nearby chamber of the crystalline tower, with Zoe and Mefindam happily fremming in every possible position. The Asharran was overjoyed to discover that his new mate was so creative but more than a little concerned when he learned of her degree of stamina and appetite. The 18 year old was insatiable, draining Mefindam dry and repeatedly cooing, suggesting, requesting and demanding to be licked until the shimmering walls of the structure began to shake from the frequency and the intensity of the young nish’s orgasms. “I guess I’m a screamer.” she blushed to her mate, not realizing that he had lapsed into deep slumber several moments earlier. This went on for several days until all parties were sufficiently exhausted that they had to heed the signals of their bodies, no matter how much they wished to continue. In the end, it was the surprising combination of Wole and Zoe who proved to be the most resilient, much to the chagrin of their respective mates. Although filled with joy and primal relief, they confided to each other that even they, were becoming too exhausted for additional fremming. A break was finally declared and the two couples, now somewhat more rested, at last ceased their fremming and convened as a group in the larger common chamber, the equivalent of an Asharran living room. The original intent was to swap an525

R. Leigh ecdotes and happily share details of their sensations and activities. In addition, Wole explained to Zoe that such a marathon session of fremming was quite common among newly bonded mates and the little one from Earth attempted to instruct the Asharrans on the Earth custom of the honeymoon, something quite similar but with a travel element also introduced. “That would be pointless, “ Wole grunted in response to her explanation. “and it would take away valuable time for fremming. After bonding, it is only natural for mates to fremm until they pass out.” “I did that several times, “ Theyna chuckled, playfully poking her massive blue mate in his ribs. “I did as well, “Mefindam admitted in a quieter voice, to Wole’s great amusement. The giant steer raised an eyebrow in jest at Zoe’s mate, before turning his attention to her and offering a hearty smile to indicate his approval of her unexpected prowess. “Speaking of travel, “ Theyna remarked, “you were going to tell us more about your time with Torvik and Yavaran, before we all became involved in other things.” The blue steer bellowed with laughter, realizing that he had barely been able to recount the most basic details of his time with the Rohulu and her family before becoming greatly more interested in Zoe’s suggestion to engage in what she called a “group wedding.” “Torvik’s older now and his father has arrived on Asharra.” “Older, how?” Theyna asked. “Professor Durant is on Asharra? That is fantastic.” Zoe squealed with obvious delight, interrupting Theyna and avoiding any mention of Torvik, “He is such a nice man. You’ll have to meet him.” 526

The Winds of Asharra “He’s older too, by about 10 years, “Wole replied, “According to Yavaran, you and Torvik have been gone from your world for at least that many Earth years, maybe even double that.” Zoe was speechless, a rare event for her, as she struggled to contemplate the fact that everything she knew as current on Earth was now ten years out of date. She had thought she had successfully eliminated all thoughts of Earth from her consciousness but apparently that was easier if it was on her own terms. The idea of so much time elapsing on Earth while they had been away was incomprehensible to her. “I was asking about Torvik, “ Theyna repeated, “What do you mean, he’s older now?” Wole attempted to repeat as much of the information that he could recall, having received it all second-handed from either Ionera, Torvik or Yavaran. As expected, his audience was stunned and sufficiently amazed as to not interrupt his story, despite his usual technique of being somewhat long-winded when recounting such things. Zoe said nothing but was clearly annoyed. She had been looking forward to displaying Mefindam to Torvik and impressing him with her mate’s physique and older presence. It would have more than made up for the way in which Ionera proved that she was now Torvik’s mate. Now, Torvik was older than Mefindam even if he still wasn’t overly muscular. “It just isn’t fair. “ Zoe fumed to herself, acting very much like a frustrated 18 year old. In sharp contrast to her, Theyna was relieved that Torvik was all right and apparently had not suffered any ill effects, after having willingly given up four years of his life, in order enable his father to travel to Asharra. She still regarded Torvik as a close friend, regardless of any lingering 527

R. Leigh feelings of frustration or resentment that Zoe, might have concerning his bonding with Ionera. She was equally amazed at the prospect of an arrival of a being from another world who was not brought to Asharra by way of the Asharra-dobar. When Wole further explained what he had been told about the Eimiv or what he overheard before he left, it further amazed the Asharran. She sympathized with the plight of both Yavaran and Shiara and privately wondered if Ionera might be forced to make the same sacrifice, hiding herself away in the Zaya. Wole swore the group to secrecy regarding the details of the Eimiv, something which they were more than willing to oblige out of their affection and respect for him. At least, that applied to Theyna and Zoe. It seemed that intimidation of Wole’s physique played a larger role in securing Mefindam’s silence but in the end, the result was the same. “We’ve been invited to return by Yavaran” he at last explained to Theyna, “and I have already accepted.” “Nice to give her a choice, “ Zoe smirked, still somewhat hurt at Torvik’s selection of Ionera, “but at least when you go, you have to tell Torvik about Mefindam and me.” “You won’t be joining us?” her surrogate sister asked. Zoe made a childish face indicating her obvious displeasure at the idea, instead wrapping her arms around Mefindam and coyly raising her eyebrows to signal the area of her preferred interest. “Guess who’s feeling frisky?” she giggled. “He may not be able.” Wole laughed at the Asharran’s clear expense, “ but actually only Theyna has been invited to return with me.” “In that case, we have things to do,” Zoe snapped in a tone not entirely obvious how serious it was, as she pulled her new mate to his feet and attempted to push him into an528

The Winds of Asharra other chamber of the building. Theyna thought to confront her pseudo-sister, to explore the depth of her smoldering resentment, since such things were clearly un-Asharran, and thus unknown to her. In the end, however, she allowed Zoe to leave the room without comment, deciding that she did not wish to spoil Zoe’s time with Mefindam. Even the presence of such shallow behavior could be temporarily overlooked by Theyna, in light of the recent bondings. She would not ruin this time for Zoe by lecturing her on the difference between deep and shallow actions. That could wait until later. “When are we supposed to return?” Theyna finally asked Wole, clearly surprising him with her question. “when we are done fremming...” he replied, “Are we done?” Theyna smiled and rubbed his horns playfully. “Consider it a much needed pause... I can barely move my legs.” she admitted with a contented look. Wole offered only a silent shrug in response, knowing that any protest with Theyna would be long and drawn out and in the end, totally pointless. “And the shop?” “Zoe will look after things.” Theyna reassured her mate, “Let me gather up some food for the journey, assuming we still have any left.” “We can gather some on the way, “ the bull offered in a surprising display of practicality. He had correctly determined that phrasing it that way would be more effective than admitting that they had consumed everything remotely edible during their infrequent breaks from the fremming marathon. Theyna of course, immediately saw through this shallow pretense and laughed to herself, noting that it was somehow part of her mate’s 529

R. Leigh primal charm. Wole was the most un-Asharran of Asharrans, with his parents having been born off world, but still, he had her total and undivided devotion and affection. Though it confused her brother, Mefindam, who always regarded Theyna as the model Asharran nish, she was pleased and relieved to know that her selection of the gruff blue bull like creature, as unusual as it was, indicated that her search for a mate was complete. The journey to the Zaya afforded Theyna an opportunity to further quiz Wole on the details of the events which had transpired before he had left the hidden pyramid shaped structure. She was shocked to discover, for example, that he had initially omitted any mention of the transformation of the Oon into four separate creatures, and the subsequent departure of half of them to their homeworld of Shellibak. Theyna was momentarily conflicted, sorry that she would not have any further opportunities to experience the wise telepathic thoughts of the Oon but also intensely curious and eager to meet the remaining four creatures which sprang from the original. Wole only offered a weak explanation that he had forgotten it once discussions of bonding with her became an impending reality. It was difficult for her to be upset with him when he skillfully utilized his love for her as an explanation for any fault of his. It was under these circumstances that both Wole and Theyna were surprised when they suddenly came across Oppapalo as they were approaching the last phase of their journey. They had just connected to a very obscure and partially hidden path which led to the Zaya and noticed that the normally jovial Asharran was gathering up some plants in a manner which clearly could be seen as frantic and worried. “What is empty?” Wole asked, in a loud roaring voice. His concern for his new friend was evident as was his 530

The Winds of Asharra desire to immediately offer any assistance. “It’s Ionera.” Oppapalo sighed, “her condition has suddenly become worse. We can’t send for a healer so I’m trying to see if there are any plants here that will ease her pain.” “She is in pain?” Theyna gasped. “Enough to keep her from sleeping. Her mother is with her now.” “What about Yavaran?” Wole inquired, assuming that the elder had greater knowledge of such things. “She refuses to offer any help. Even Torvik’s father has been unable to persuade her otherwise.” Oppapalo explained, not pausing for even a moment in his search for medicinal plants. “Hasn’t Torvik tried to cure her with the doh-rah?” Theyna asked, having heard about its power from Wole. “When he attempts to cure her, the doh-rah does nothing. I do not understand.” the Asharran said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll help him search. I know something of plants. “ Theyna said to Wole, “You go see if there is anything you can do.” Without further discussion, the great blue bull like creature raced the rest of the way to the Zaya, only to discover that Ionera was in the main chamber and looking worse than he had thought possible. She was propped up on a large pile of looshie cushions, lying on her side and clearly in a lot of pain. Despite this, she was silent and even managed a small friendly smile when she saw the large creature approach. As expected, her young mate, Torvik, was by her side, holding her hand as a sign of solidarity and symbolic comfort. The blades of the doh-rah were on the floor near his bare feet, apparently left there from his failed attempt at curing her. All four of the 531

R. Leigh small Oon were close by as well, three standing in a traditional familiar tree like posture and one of them, called First, rolled into the now familiar plant ball, and spinning in a small circle in front of her, as if pacing. Even the small purple dreegin named Huff was there, attempting to make a soft and pleasing la to soothe Ionera, apparently with only moderate effect. Naturally, Shiara was there as well , looking very sad and alarmed. Wole peered at the now frail body of the little Asharran, recalling her animated discussions with him at the Feast which exemplified her odd yet pleasing personality. Now, with the blood drained from her face, her skin looked more of a light beige than a healthy orange and her expression was stiff and strained, not at all natural. It was Wole’s speculation that Ionera was managing to conceal the true extent of the pain she was experiencing. Yavaran and Professor Durant suddenly approached the entrance to the chamber, stepping next to the blue steer and startling him, as he had been deeply concentrating on his young friend. “Is it her wings? Is this the cause of all of this?” he asked. “It appears that way but we can’t be completely certain.” the professor spoke. “If only we had the proper medicine for her pain.” “I met with Oppapalo on the way... Theyna is with him now, attempting to find the correct plants.” offered Wole, still not breaking his gaze upon Ionera. Yavaran nodded in approval but offered no additional comment, annoying Wole to such a degree that he finally could not withhold his thoughts. “Oppapalo says you will not help her.” he grunted to Yavaran. 532

The Winds of Asharra “What is happening to her is as natural as my tail and Shiara’s scales. We are Meeru, Wole. Can’t you see that?” The bull creature snorted twice in anger and frustration, finally shifting his gaze to Yavaran and the Professor. “Meeru or not, can you tell me that this is supposed to happen this way? Should she be in this much pain?” The loudness of his voice carried it far enough to be heard not only by Yavaran and Evan Durant but also by anyone in the large chamber, including Torvik and Ionera herself. She opened her eyes, after having rested them for a few moments, struggled to turn her head towards Wole and attempted to comfort him.” “My dreams said that everything would be all right. I was flying.” Torvik gently petted her short hair, occasionally brushing against one or both of the small silver horns on her forehead. “I tried to reverse the process, but the doh-rah would not even activate.” he explained. “That’s because this is my Kokayniah.” she sighed, “This is a true and deep thing, remember?” Her body twitched in obvious pain, causing Torvik to flinch in clear sympathy with what she was experiencing. “Her dreams again, “ he sighed as Wole approached them. Evan Durant stared at the odd assemblage of creatures around him. In all of his years on Earth, the Professor could never have imagined such a collection of creatures either separately or all in one place. Yet, here they were and with his son at the center of it all. The middle aged scholar scanned the faces of the beings, at least those that had faces, discounting the Oon, and was amazed at the pure compassion and raw emotion her found there. 533

R. Leigh Curiously, it was his only his new love, Yavaran, who did not apparently share the open display of concern. Her expression was like a carefully crafted mask, which concealed her true thoughts, The professor thought he could sense something under this disguise of hers and searched for a way to peer underneath it. There was a cryptic gleam in her eyes, as though the Rohulu knew far more about the events unfolding than she was revealing. Naturally, it troubled the scholar, but he refused to admit that Yavaran had anything but positive motivations for her actions. Evan Durant always thought himself to be a good judge of character and even when surrounded by the likes of blue bull like creatures, intelligent trees, assorted sizes of dragons and beautiful naked orange skinned people descended from cats, he held steadfast to his hunches. He thought he sensed a smile behind Yavaran’s eyes as she watched the players in the little drama but was it a cruel smile or a compassionate one? Without warning, Wole charged at the professor and the elder, forcefully pushing Evan Durant to one side as though he weighed nothing. The blue bull, now clearly enraged, circled his arm around Yavaran’s throat in an act of clear aggression. He was not harming her but the intent was clear and present. “She knows more than what she is telling, Torvik, “ he roared in clear rage.”Your mate grows weaker and Yavaran does nothing to help her.” The dragon-tailed elder was unmoved, saying nothing. Sensing this, Wole increased the pressure on the headlock he had placed her in, enough to further restrain her and inflict severe discomfort in her breathing. “Tell us what you know. “ he bellowed to the Rohulu. “She is of your own blood and suffering and yet, you say nothing.” 534

The Winds of Asharra Wole looked at Torvik for inspiration and advice, tacitly acknowledging the teenager’s central role in all of this as well as the hidden respect the steer had for him. “Just say the word how far I should proceed.” he snorted to Torvik, in an effort to intimidate Yavaran. Torvik’s father watched all of this from a position on the floor, having been unceremoniously flung there moments before by the great blue bull. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he sensed a twinkle in Yavaran’s eyes when Wole was speaking to his son. The Oon who had been turned into a ball and rolling about, the one called First sent a telepathic signal to Torvik specifically, although it was transmitted to everyone in the room. “If it is your wish, Torvik, we can read her thoughts, even against her will. Normally, we would never consider such a thing but we sense the sha of your Ionera weakening.” Again, the professor watched the scene and specifically, the reactions of the elder to those apparently threatening her. With each comment, the twinkle in her eye seemed to grow. When Huff, the small purple dreegin, began to dart about the room, attempting to be as menacing as it could, it appeared that Yavaran was going to burst into a grin. At least, it was clear to the Professor. He had somehow pierced her disguise and gazed at the watcher within and it disturbed him. How could he be so wrong about her? “Release her, Wole.” Torvik instructed, “It will take much more than brute force to persuade her to share her secrets.” The large two legged steer reluctantly released his viselike grip from the elder and she offered a polite smile to him as he did, which further aggravated the bull. “Just tell me if her intentions are honorable, nothing further.” Torvik instructed the Oon, saying it out loud, so 535

R. Leigh that all could hear. Within seconds, the plant creature returned a telepathic answer, similarly transmitting it to all present. “We sense no malice or cruelty in her. She is saddened by Ionera’s pain but not overly concerned by her condition.” the Oon reported. Yavaran stepped close to Evan Durant, who had risen to his feet by this time. “See how they naturally gravitate to him, “ she beamed with joy, whispering quietly so that only the professor could hear her words. “They work together despite their differences and under great strain.” “Perhaps I am going about this the wrong way, “ Torvik thought out loud, “perhaps I can’t cure her with the doh-rah if I treat her condition as a disease.” “Because it isn’t one.” echoed Wole. “Correct.” Torvik explained as he reached down and retrieved the Red Fire doh-rah blades from the floor. His inner tension was clearly reflected by the condition of his now 22 year old body. He was sweating and his muscles, though still small by any standard, were taut and tense, almost making it difficult for him to move. Torvik held the Red Fire, one blade in each hand, and pointed the semi-circular crystalline blades towards his mate, who was silent, eyes closed and still. “You keep saying that she is Meeru and this is a part of that. Well, maybe she doesn’t have to be? Can I use the doh-rah to transform her? I mean, if I can be changed, can’t she?” “You lost four years of your life, son. You aged. You were not transformed.” his father attempted to explain. Yavaran silently clamped down her hand on his wrist as if to indicate her desire for the professor’s silence. She did 536

The Winds of Asharra not wish Torvik’s thoughts to be interrupted. “Many kinds of transformations are possible.” she replied with the same gleam in her eye that the professor had seen before, only now more pronounced, visible to all. “Then maybe she doesn’t have to be Meeru, “Torvik continued, “instead of curing her, maybe I can make Ionera like any other Asharran. Maybe I can even make her human like me. That would solve any of these mysterious pains.” “No!” Torvik looked down at his mate. Her eyes were open and she clearly was upset by his words. She was weak, clearly in pain but she had to be heard. Before she could speak further, however, she glanced toward the entrance of the chamber. Her father had finally arrived, with Theyna, apparently empty handed. “We could not find the proper plants to ease the pain.” Shiara sighed. “There is no need.” Ionera announced to the group, summoning up what might be a last burst of strength. Her yi-sha was fading and the Oon sensed it clearly. If something was not done soon, she would not survive the next turn from ya to yi time. Her sha was slipping away and not in a way that felt natural and harmonious. It was not her time to blend her energy and particles on the winds. She looked deeply into Torvik’s eyes, in a concerted effort to amplify the meaning of her words. “You are true, my mate and your actions are deep. My state is one of transformation and you are the key to it. When we first fremmed, it unlocked this dreegin blood in me and began this process. My horns, my new ears and now my wings arrive because of you.” “Ionera...” he pleaded, wanting her to save her strength. “No, “ she replied, “you do not understand. Your ya537

R. Leigh sha was key in beginning this process. You can and must assist in the transformation but you must help me complete it, not change it into something else. This is what I am.” She paused for a moment, not for dramatic effect, but in order to gather sufficient strength to continue. “I am Meeru. My shadow is not empty, not something to be avoided. It is the shadow of my wings. Transform me, Torvik but not into something else... transform me into what I am to be.” She reached out to him and at last he grasped the meaning of her words. Torvik gave one of the doh-rah blades to her and Ionera attempted to point it at him, having to use both hands due to her now weakened state. “We charged these together.” he smiled tenderly at her. “Perhaps we must use these together to make you well. Let me help give you your wings.” Yavaran tightened her grip on the professor’s arm and smiled warmly at him. “Your son is the ya-sha to Ionera’s yi-sha. They are finally in balance with each other.” Torvik raised the remaining semi-circular doh-rah blade in his right hand and pointed it at his mate. The others present in the room all instinctively took a step back. Instead of concentrating, the two bonded mates allowed their feelings and intentions to flow freely through themselves into the already charged crimson crystalline blades of the dohrah. There was a sudden crackle of energy which arced through the air from one blade to the other, connecting the young lovers. A buzzing sound was heard, soft and indistinct at first, but rapidly growing in intensity until it became a loud and clear hum. Ionera’s hands wavered for a moment, threatening to break the connection, but luckily, they did not. Instead, both blades of the doh-rah suddenly 538

The Winds of Asharra began to glow. The shade of red brightened and began to pulse in time with the piercing background hum. This continued for almost a full minute until once more, the blades changed again. This time they glowed bright white, a shade so intense that everyone in the room was forced to look away. The light flashed for a moment, temporarily blinding everyone present before the blades finally returned to its normal appearance. The arc of pure energy sputtered loudly a few times before disappearing entirely. The connection between the two blades was severed. Ionera had apparently passed out or fainted during this momentary flash. Dropping the blade in his hand and letting it fall to the floor, Torvik desperately reached out to her, checking her pulse and heartbeat. He had no idea what would be considered normal for a Meeru, let alone any Asharran, but his intent was not so precise. He only wanted to determine if Ionera still had any sort of pulse or heartbeat at all. She was still and silent. Luckily, that did not indicate he would fail to detect life signs. She was weak, but clearly still very much alive. “Did it work?” Torvik asked her. “You tell me, my mate.” Ionera slowly stepped down from the pile of brightly colored cushions and walked into his Torvik’s waiting arms. Rather than embrace her, he placed both hands on her shoulders and gently spun her around. There on her back, were two tiny red wings, each about the size of an adult human hand. They were dragon wings, appearing almost bat like to someone not familiar with dragons. These were not the feathery wings of some mythical angel or the butterfly like wings of some classical fairy. Ionera’s wings were soft and pliable but with the firmness you might expect from the soles of your feet. Staring 539

R. Leigh closely at them, Torvik could see small blood vessels which ran throughout the wings culminating in large arteries along the edges. The skin on her back was completely undamaged. The remainder of the wings had not erupted from her spine the way the top knobs of them had before, tearing at her skin. It was more like the already protruding knobs had grown in place, producing the remainder of the small red leathery wings. “For all of that pain, I thought they would be larger.” Wole blurted out. “I don’t see how she could fly.” “Kiss me. “ Ionera smiled to Torvik with a familiar giggle, “and rub them at the same time.” Having complete trust in her, Torvik did as she requested, offering her a passionate kiss as he massaged the small pair of wings on her back. The combination of the two actions resulted in a yet another dramatic transformation. Her blood surged within her body and filled the arteries along the sides of the wings, enlarged them at least five times their original size and stretching the fabric like skin which ran from one end to the other. In short, the tiny pair of wings popped open like a giant red umbrella. “It’s like your dox.” Ionera giggled, “If you stimulate me and my wings at the same time... you get this.” She flapped her wings for the first time, much to everyone’s immediate shock. The resulting breeze filled the chamber and would have been impressive enough if it wasn’t for the resulting action that followed. Ionera slowly rose from the floor until she hovered several feet off of the ground. She was still too weakened to go for a spin around the large chamber but she had proved her point. She had wings. “Amazing.” Professor Durant muttered to himself. “We are not through yet, Evan.” Yavaran cryptically 540

The Winds of Asharra whispered to him , causing him to wonder at her speculation. Torvik looked at his mate, now happily flapping her crimson wings as she hovered several feet off the floor. “Are they deep and true?” Ionera asked in a childlike voice to her mate. “They are perfect.” he replied, as he gestured for her to land. Having done so, Torvik turned his head towards his father, and gave him a bittersweet loving wordless glance. It conveyed all that it was meant to and more. It was meant to give thanks for the past and to close that book forever. “From what I feel and what my father has now told me, “ Torvik said to his mate, “I would never wish to return to Earth under any circumstances. Now, I wish to guarantee that.” He reached down and retrieved the doh-rah blade on the floor. “You are certain?” Ionera asked him, in a voice no longer light and airy at all. She was serious and concerned. “More than I have ever been. It is all about transformation. I just got it backwards.” Without any warning to those present in the chamber, the teenagers both simultaneously lifted the doh-rah Red Fire blades again and silently pointed them at each other once more. This time, their intention was for the sha to flow in the opposite direction. The spectacle was repeated, complete with the humming, the blades changing color, and the arc of energy connecting them. Finally, the two blades flashed from pulsating red to brightest white, more luminous than either of the suns. When the flash had dissipated, the small crowd was stunned and spellbound at the sight they beheld. 541

R. Leigh Once again they saw Ionera, naked as ever and lovely, hovering in mid air and flapping her crimson wings. However, much to everyone’s shock and amazement, her hands were outstretched and clasped firmly around Torvik’s. She was not holding him aloft in any way. Yet, his bare feet did not touch the ground. The naked boy from earth, now a full 22 years old, stood beside his mate in the air, flapping a large pair of blue dragon like wings which were attached to his back and now a natural part of his body. There was a happy sound filling the air, a triumphant la made by the little purple dreegin who darted around them, in pure awe and joy at the sight of their transformation. “This is his Kokayniah, Evan.” Yavaran explained to the professor, “and it is only the beginning. It will be good for all of Asharra and also for the Eimiv.” “Wait until Zoe hears about this.” Theyna smiled to herself as she watched the young lovers hover above her in the large chamber of the Zaya. “That opens up interesting possibilities for their fremming.” Wole chuckled as he observed Ionera and Torvik embrace while still suspended in mid-air. “We hope our performance was satisfactory, “ the Oon called First telepathically said to Yavaran, referring to the previous behavior and the scan of her mental state. “Not shallow at all.” Yavaran thought back at First, knowing the creature would receive her reply. “You helped him, my friend, as did Ionera. They both had to abandon all that they had been taught and feel for themselves. I honor the wisdom of your branches.” “As you are always,” the Oon replied, a traditional form of accepting her words of thanks. “It was difficult for us not to provide the solution to them as well, but young seed542

The Winds of Asharra lings must learn to turn towards the sun on their own.” Yavaran smiled silently at the Oon, noting that this one of the four seemed much wiser and much older than the other three. It puzzled her but she knew little of Oon biology and it was a mystery for another day. There would be far more pressing matters in the days to come, “ she concluded to herself, “Better to give the new winged mates some time to adjust first.” Torvik and Ionera embraced passionately and exchanged another deep kiss before finally landing on the floor of the chamber, and joining the others. “How do you suppose these return to normal size?” Torvik chuckled to his mate, as he pointed his thumb towards the large blue wings over his shoulder. “These would be difficult getting through doorways.” “The same way your dox changes size, I would think. “ she giggled. “Try to think of something else. Clear your minds of any thought of flight.” “That isn’t going to be easy after experiencing that.” Torvik grinned. “Then think of fremming me.” “That I can easily do but you’re sure it won’t make the wings any bigger?” “They are not a pair of doxs on your back, silly.” she laughed at him, “They might need some stimulation to change size but if you focus on something else and don’t touch them, I think they will shrink again.” “How did you suddenly get to be such an expert?” Torvik asked, raising an eyebrow in mock annoyance at her. “My dreams, Torvik. I keep trying to tell you about my dreams.” In this case, Ionera was quite correct. Though it took several minutes for Torvik to quiet his minds and divert 543

R. Leigh them from thoughts of unrestricted flight, he eventually did manage it, through the mental visual aid of fremming Ionera in each of her holes. His blue wings silently shrunk in size until they were slightly larger than Ionera’s red ones, before they had instantly grown to flight size. “You had the natural advantage, “ Ionera joked with him as she tugged on his dox. “You already had one body part which changed size. Now you have another.” “We’ll have to experiment while we’re fremming, “Torvik whispered back to her, “to get some control so these things don’t expand when we don’t want them to.. that would be a problem.” “I would be more concerned about the reverse, silly dox.” “How so?” he asked. “We must learn not to have them shrink to nothing while we are high in the purple sky. That would be bigger problem.” The winged couple held each other close, hoping to find a way to escape to some nearby chamber to fremm. Neither had any problem doing it then and there in front of everyone but they were quite correct that all of their friends wanted to examine their new wings and discuss what had just occurred. “They’ll all want to talk about this.” Torvik whispered as their friends started to press in. “I’ll tell them I am still weak and need my rest, which is true.” Ionera whispered back. “Then you are too tired to fremm?” “Silly dox.” she cooed, “I thought you knew me better than that. The remainder of the group, eager to quiz the winged couple on their startling transformation, were informed by 544

The Winds of Asharra Torvik that Ionera was still in need of rest. As expected, they reluctantly complied, but still managed to offer their words of relief and encouragement at her recovery and the incredible change in her appearance, as well as that of her young mate. “Well done, son, “his father congratulated him on assisting Ionera, “I’m very proud of you.” “You’re sure about the wings?” Torvik stammered, flashing a nervous half-smile. Evan Durant paused for a moment and crinkled the lines on his forehead before replying. There was no hesitance in his feeling, but as usual, he was attempting to select the most appropriate words for the occasion. “I can’t say we’ve ever had anything like it in the family, “ he chuckled, “and they are not the sort of thing I would choose for myself but I can certainly understand the choice.” He gazed at Ionera, who stood by Torvik’s side. Her young nude body still glistened with sweat from the apparent fever of her condition but her facial color was rapidly returning to a normal shade of orange. Evan looked past the twin silver horns and the elf like ears. He dismissed the larger than Earthly golden brown eyes and even attempted to disregard the pair of red wings. In his mind, he only saw a beautiful young nymph, and the obvious love of his son’s life. “What about the horns?” the professor inquired, noticing that Torvik did not possess a pair. His ears were still human shaped as well. “I guess I wasn’t thinking of those when I wished for the wings.” his son replied somewhat sheepishly. “You look true just the way you are, my mate, “ Ionera purred as she lazily played with his hair. “ I can be horny 545

R. Leigh enough for the both of us.” Torvik and his father stared at each other in silence. “Is that not Earth humor? Did I do it in a shallow way?” she chirped, as her grin all but disappeared. Both the professor and his son erupted into laughter, surprised by the accuracy of her interpretation of Earthly humor and the incongruity of actually hearing her make the pun. Torvik reassured his mate and his father smiled politely before exiting the chamber. Oppapalo and Shiara then approached the winged mates, clearly overjoyed that neither had been harmed by the most recent events. Shiara was still visibly shaken by the obvious scare that Ionera’s deteriorating condition had caused. There was no need for words, and the pair embraced the young mates and tentatively touched their wings. “They are beautiful, my little Meeru. “ her father said admiringly, as he felt the soft leathery red wings on Ionera’s back. “And I can make them grow too!” she purred. “Yes, we saw, we all saw. “ Shiara laughed, with tears rolling down her cheeks. Oppapalo grasped Torvik, clasping one of his hands on his shoulder and offered a silent smile of approval of his choice. The 22 year old bowed his head slightly in response. There was no clearer indication to the middle aged Asharran of the extent that Torvik was willing to go, to be one with his mate. Oppapalo was content and proud at such a perfect bonding. He glanced back at Torvik as he left the chamber and winked an eye at him. No words were necessary to convey his acceptance of this Iramu from Earth into his family. The four Oon with the dreegin flying overhead made 546

The Winds of Asharra their way towards Torvik and Ionera, in this impromptu receiving line that had somehow been created. “Fly high and strong, little seedlings.” the four Oon simultaneously sent a telepathic message to the young couple. Ionera let out a small giggle and Torvik smiled in response. “We always felt your roots were firm, Torvik, “the one Oon called First, thought privately to him, “Should you ever require assistance, you have but to ask.” “Thank you.” Torvik thought back at that one particular rolling plant ball before the four of them at last departed the chamber. Then with a swaggering step tempered with occasional hesitant pauses, darting her tail about, Yavaran approached the young couple. It was clear by her conflicted manner that she was perhaps a little concerned how she was being perceived by them at this moment. It was a change and one which the young mates found unusually refreshing. “I trust you understand some of my intentions and motives.” she offered in a soft cackle, nervously stroking her long silver hair. “Not completely” Torvik replied, not wishing to satisfy her conscience completely just yet. “I would have intervened if I thought that you would have faltered, “Yavaran attempted to explain. “You had to become the Asharrans you both are.” The turn of the phrase surprised Torvik. It was the first time that Yavaran had referred to him as simply an Asharran. She usually referred to him by his Earth heritage or at best, as an Earth-Asharran. This was something new and it felt right to Torvik. No, to use the Asharran terms, it felt deep and true. “I believe you.” Ionera smiled at the Rohulu, “but there 547

R. Leigh is something I do not understand.” “What is it, child?” Yavaran inquired. “If fremming Torvik began my transformation, freeing the dreegin blood inside me, what if he had not been a perfect mate for me? He had to complete the process. Without his help, my wings would not have fully developed and I would have only gotten worse.” “She could have died.” Torvik said coldly, “you gambled a lot on me being the right one for her and making the right decisions.” Yavaran seemed to relax at this comment, much to the couple’s surprise. Her cryptic face became a mixture of sweetness and wisdom with enough enigma remaining to still be familiar to them. “We have no right and wrong here, Torvik. Things are what they are, regardless how shallow they sometimes seem. Your decision was true as it had to be. Otherwise, the Eimiv would not have had a reason to bring you here.” The elder seemed to regain her sense of calmness and natural poise as she spoke, once again donning a mask of confidence and wisdom. Torvik did not doubt her motivations but he still remained mystified from one moment to the next what the Rohulu would do or what adventures she felt were still in store for him. “The winds of Asharra carried you here from Earth, Torvik, as surely as did the power of the Asharra-dobar. I sensed this and I am rarely wrong in such things. You will be good for Asharra and for each other.” She reached into the small pouch she wore around her waist and presented each of them with one of the red crystal pendants. “Accept these as my gifts to you and wear them all the time.” 548

The Winds of Asharra “They are the symbols of the Eimiv.” Torvik remarked. “They are the symbols of Asharra.” the Rohulu corrected. “When the Eimiv arrived on Asharra, his color was pure white but that changed when this piece of him struck our world. He became something of Asharra as it became something of him. He is red crystal now, from our soil.” “What of the other pieces?” Ionera asked. “I do not know.” came the reply, in an unexpectedly sad voice. It is not my Kokayniah.” “And it is ours?” Torvik once again pressed her. “You heard the Eimiv asking for help. Perhaps now you can communicate with him. You are both now more Meeru than I am.” “Both of us are Meeru?” the teenager asked in surprise. “Your wings did not come from Earth, silly dox.” Yavaran cackled, sounding every bit the confident elder. “Wear the pendants when you sleep and when you wake, tell me of your dreams.” “Will my dreams be stronger?” inquired Ionera, “now that my shadow has fully emerged. “You will tell me that, child.” the Rohulu smiled in a soft raspy voice before she abruptly turned and left Ionera and Torvik to ponder the meaning of her words. “At least she’s consistent,” Torvik sighed to his mate as he put on the red crystal pendant. “If I’m truly an Asharran now, and a Meeru too, than wearing this will show everyone my ties to this world.” Pausing only long enough to glance at her mate, Ionera offered him a half smile, equally curious as to their Kokayniah. She put on her pendant and watched Yavaran exit the chamber. Only Wole and Theyna remained nearby, apparently wishing to convey some message in private to the young 549

R. Leigh couple. The large blue two legged bull fidgeted from side to side while his mate, who appeared slightly annoyed with him, whispered something into his ear. Both Torvik and Ionera were curious but decided not to force the issue, and instead said nothing for a few moments, allowing the other couple to approach them on their own. The silence was awkward but at last Theyna and Wole walked up to them. “We are very pleased you are both deep and true.” Wole offered, clearly concerned for the health of his friends. “As you are. “ Ionera replied, as a traditional expression of thanks to them. Wole appeared to have second thoughts about continuing the conversation and required Theyna’s poking at his massive ribs to decide to stand his ground. “He says he wants to know something, “she explained to Torvik and Ionera, “but he won’t tell me what it is. It is what I am to expect from my new mate, I suppose.” Theyna sighed and patted Wole’s massive back as if to prompt him. Again, there was a moment’s pause before the usually talkative creature finally spoke. “It is nothing.” he began, “but I was curious after witnessing your transformations if you thought it were possible to utilize the doh-rah to change anyone’s appearance.” “Wole, what are you saying?” Theyna gasped, guessing where he might be going with this skewed logic. “I am not finished. “ he grunted sharply, “Allow Torvik and Ionera to answer the question.” “I suppose it would might be possible... “ Torvik replied, startled at what the bull might be suggesting. “If the doh-rah were fully charged, which by now, it clearly is not.” Ionera added, “but I do not know if it would be possible for every kind of being or if the results would 550

The Winds of Asharra even be permanent.” Theyna was shocked and disappointed that her new mate would even consider altering his appearance. True, she had heard enough stories from him concerning the difficulties he had encountered growing up on Asharra. It was hard enough to have a strange gruff personality that was clearly different than virtually all native born Asharrans. It was worse for Wole when his physical appearance was as equally as strange and imposing. His massive form was unsettling to some Asharrans who encountered him for the first time, even with the usual open minded attitude so prevalent on the planet thanks to the native philosophy. Even in a paradise, Wole was something of a paradox to encounter. “How could you even consider changing how you look, Wole? “ she asked him, mixing annoyance and compassion in her voice. “Your appearance is wonderful and reflects who you are.” “I know.” he said in a small voice. “Are you saying you would do this if you weren’t so ... “ Theyna struggled to find a more tactful word to describe his abrasiveness. “Natural?” Wole replied, surprising her. “I ask only to confirm my feelings, not to change them.” “I don’t understand.” Ionera interrupted. “I think I do,” Theyna smiled, hugging her new mate. “When I watched your wings fully develop, “ Wole explained to Ionera, “I did wonder if I might be able to alter my appearance as well, to make it more acceptable to some. Then, I realized that those thoughts were shallow. You only became what you already are, a Meeru, but now one with wings. Torvik did transform himself into something new and different , however, and he did that for you as much as 551

R. Leigh for himself. I wanted to know if it was possible to change my appearance so I could make the same choice.” “And now, knowing that it might be possible?” “I choose to remain as I am.” Wole snorted, “Just as it is your Kokayniah to become closer to your mate by making one choice, it is my Kokayniah to do the same by making the opposite one.” “As you are always,” Theyna purred at him, attempting to give her mate the largest hug she could manage, regardless how little her efforts could be felt around his waist. “I honor the wisdom of your greater mind, Wole. You have made the deepest and truest choice.” The unique couple embraced and slowly turned away from Torvik and Ionera, as they began to walk towards the exit of the central chamber. “And I assume you would not consider having additional bulk and becoming a shade of dark blue?” Wole remarked to Theyna, catching her completely off guard. The long haired Asharran swatted her mate on his large tezz with all of her might, to indicate her mock disapproval of his humor. “Tell me you’re joking. “ she ordered, as they almost left the chamber. “I am joking, “ he grunted, “and I find you the most beautiful among all on Asharra.” “That’s better.” “But should you ever consider looking as mighty as I am ...” Torvik successfully stifled a laugh, as his friends disappeared from sight. Ionera, however, was not able to contain herself, and giggled until her small shalas began to playfully bounce up and down. The two winged mates gazed into each others’ eyes and were about to have a passionate 552

The Winds of Asharra kiss when a loud sound caught their attention, a sound which had emanated from out of sight, down the narrow stone corridor. “Oww.. “ Wole remarked in a wounded voice, “Pinching is not fighting fair.” All parties who were witness to the amazing transformation of Torvik and Ionera reflected on this as they prepared to retire, as it was now deeply into yi-time. Oppapalo and Shiara immediately curled up together, physically and mentally exhausted from the ordeal with their daughter. At last, they felt they could relax and fully enjoy her new status as a bonded mate to Torvik, now that the mystery of her shadow had been solved and her transformation was complete. “It is complete, isn’t it?” Oppapalo asked his mate. “I would hope so, “ Shiara sighed, “My scales have not changed since they first appeared so we can hope that Ionera and Torvik are what they will be.” “Your voice wavers.” Oppapalo remarked perceptively, as he caressed Shiara’s round tezz. “There are no absolutes, my mate. Even now, I still wonder about Renosis.” “She’s gone, “ Oppapalo whispered, “It was empty but her energy is on the winds.” The middle aged Asharran did not like to speak of Ionera’s birth-sibling since her accidental death was too troubling a subject for Shiara, even after all this time. “If I can get you back and Ionera, why not Renosis?” Shiara whispered to herself in a tiny voice not intended for her mate to overhear. She held up an image of her other daughter, identical to Ionera in appearance but the exact opposite in temperament, as she fell asleep in Oppapalo’s arms. 553

R. Leigh Elsewhere in the Zaya, Wole and Theyna were happily fremming. The teasing between them had increased since they had left the central chamber. Now, enjoying each other’s bodies within a smaller more cozy alcove on another level, they were completely content, without any cares or concerns. “How far you do think they can fly with those wings?” Wole asked his mate. “I thought you didn’t like to travel.” she purred as she mounted him once again. The great blue Loak snorted with pleasure, feeling himself deep inside of his mate. “I do not, but if I did, how far do you think one could fly with wings such as those?” “Do you wish to talk or fremm?” Theyna chuckled, clearly surprised at her mate’s uncharacteristic preoccupation with the subject. Wole rarely wished to leave the confines of Osharra-kibur, but after seeing the pairs of wings on Ionera and Torvik, his imagination stirred and for a moment, he allowed himself to forget the responsibilities of being a tiira-lu, a crystal expert, and wondered what it would be like to soar high in the sky. These odd thoughts were at last fractured and pushed aside when Theyna began to massage his darana’s and ride the steer as she sat upon him, impaled by his dox. “Still thinking about flying?” Theyna teased her mate. “I am flying.” he grunted with pleasure, “and so are you, my mate.” While Torvik and Ionera indulged in some similar activities in a small greenish doorless chamber of the Zaya with equally pleasurable results, the aftermath could not have been more different. Content with a lengthy session of fremming which alleviated any concern that their new 554

The Winds of Asharra wings, when in reduced size mode, might interfere with fremming, the young couple snuggled together in happy exhaustion. Torvik was relieved that the wings could even be slept upon in this form, enabling him to retain access to any sleeping position he wished. Ionera came to the same conclusion but more perceptively, for the purpose of determining that the wings did not prevent her from being fremmed from that posture. In any case, they casually drifted off to sleep, both still wearing the red crystalline pendants upon their otherwise perpetually nude bodies. To say that their dreams were jarring and unsettling would have been a gross understatement. The experience was unlike anything either one of them had ever encountered. Even Ionera’s previous exposure to odd and surreal dreams could not have prepared her for the incident which had followed. First of all, the experience was totally shared between them in both sight and sound. Also, they could see and experience each other while in the dream-state. It was as though they had simply awakened and were continuing to live their lives as when awake. Fortunately, they knew that they were still asleep. There was no confusion or deception taking place. The second startlingly unusual aspect of the common dream was the setting. There simply wasn’t any. The backdrop of their sleeping thoughts was simply an opaque bright whiteness. It surrounded them on all sides and yet did not appear solid. That is not to say that there were any traces of smoke, vapors or mists either. It was just as though the two winged adolescents were suspended against a three dimensional background of pure whiteness. There was no up or down. There was no ceiling or floor. It was difficult to even sense if they were standing on anything at 555

R. Leigh all or just suspended in mid something. The final strange aspect of the shared dream which immediately became apparent was that their movement was limited, or at least it appeared as such to them. They could move all of their limbs, but with no reference point of any kind, surrounded by this sea of whiteness, it was impossible to determine if they were walking in place or actually getting anywhere. Were they jumping up and down or still anchored in one spot? It was impossible to tell. The whiteness was not unpleasant in any way. In fact, it was marked by a pleasant lack of sensation. It was neither too cold nor too hot. There were no signs of movement such as the slightest breeze. In essence, the air around them felt like an extension of themselves, not too dry or too humid. They felt completely comfortable, which was of course, reassuring, since it was a dream where anything might happen. Since there were no external markers of any kind, and since the sense of time in dreams is often distorted, it was impossible to determine how long the naked adolescents were enveloped by this strange environment. They spoke to each other, as they would if they had been awake, but they could not recall if the conversation had begun a moment ago or much longer than that. To say they were disoriented would be the grossest of understatements, but oddly, there was nothing about the odd sensations which unnerved them, at least at first. “We’re dreaming, “ Torvik announced to his mate, unaware if he had informed her of his conclusion any number of times before. “It is neither deep nor shallow,” Ionera replied, befuddled and confused at the lack of all sensation. “Is this similar to the dreams you keep telling me about?” 556

The Winds of Asharra “No, “ she replied, “In my dreams, it is always warm and bright, a beautiful purple sky with normal red ground and fields of soft golden grass. Sometimes I fly into the air, gliding over the plants and even over the trees.” Ionera tried to make her red wings expand in size but nothing happened. She asked Torvik to kiss her and massage the wings, a technique they had learned provided ample stimulation to begin the size changing process. In this case, however, there was no apparent change in her wings or in his for that matter, when they attempted to switch places. They just remained suspended in this benign sea of white. “We’re dreaming, “ Torvik again announced to Ionera, unaware if it was the second or the one hundredth time, he had repeated those words. Before the brown haired Meeru could respond to her mate, there was a sudden change in the dream. Everything still appeared exactly as it was but the couple felt disoriented, almost as if they their bodies were shaking in place. Their limbs became heavy but still appeared to hang in whatever position they had been placed in before the strange sensation began. It was impossible to tell in the dream-state, how long this disturbance continued except that Torvik and Ionera had a memory of the more tranquil state which preceded it. “Eimiv.” came a voice all around them. “It’s him.” Torvik announced, “he’s in our dreams.” “Or we are in the Eimiv’s dream.” Ionera suggested, the possibility equally as probable. “Eimiv.” came the single word again.” “And we are inside of him , “ suggested Torvik, recalling Yavaran’s comment that the original color of the crystalline being was pure white. 557

R. Leigh “You are the Eimiv.” Ionera stated matter of factly, attempting to establish some rudimentary form of communication. Torvik looked at his mate and then around him into the vast whiteness, hoping and anticipating a response. He recalled his earlier encounter with the creature, when Yavaran had initially instructed him to put on the red pendant. The voice was the same, clearly male and powerful. “Why won’t she answer?” Ionera cried in frustration. “She?” Torvik exclaimed, “the voice isn’t female, I mean it isn’t full of yi-sha.” “I heard her voice clearly twice.” Ionera protested. “It reminded me of my mother, Shiara.” Torvik paused for a moment, and admitted that the voice he had heard, clearly male, did sound similar to to that of his father, the professor, just deeper and with far greater authority. “We’re both hearing different things, “ he explained, “something familiar and maybe even similar to us.” “We know what happened to you, how you fell from the sky.” Ionera attempted again. “I have fallen. Eimiv. Fallen. Eimiv.” the voice repeated. Torvik paused for a moment before sharing the obvious conclusion with his mate. “Yavaran got it wrong.. His name isn’t Eimiv. It’s not even what his species is.. it’s the term for what happened to him. He’s fallen... crashed... his condition. Eimiv means Fallen” “Crashed ... Eimiv.” the voice repeated. “At this rate it will take forever, to establish any sort of meaningful communication with him.” Torvik sighed to Ionera. 558

The Winds of Asharra “If only we knew more about her... him... it.” Ionera stammered, confused since the voice sounded feminine to her but not to Torvik. “More.” the voice repeated. “In dreams, there is no sense of time, “ the teenager reminded his mate, “maybe it doesn’t matter how long it takes as long as we eventually can make it understand us.” “Time... understand...more.” the voice echoed back to them. “It makes no sense, “ Ionera grumbled, clearly frustrated with her lack of progress in communicating with the crystal creature. “Yavaran said she was listening to the Eimiv, that she had learned so much. How could she if all she was hearing was a few shallow words.” “Close your eyes.” Torvik ordered. “Why?” “Maybe that’s part of it. Maybe Yavaran only received some of the messages from words, let’s try something else.” “Our eyes are already closed, Torvik, “Ionera frowned, “we’re dreaming, remember?” “But they are awake in the dream... close them!” he repeated. Ionera reluctantly complied and at first, nothing happened. Then, when the crystal creature spoke, there was a corresponding flood of images and somehow, the number of words uttered by the creature seemed to increase ten fold. “We are in tune now. “ it said, “ Your frequencies were unfamiliar to me at first and it was difficult to distinguish the two of them from each other.” “But we weren’t talking at the same time.” Ionera blurted out. “We were thinking at the same time, though.” her mate 559

R. Leigh smiled. “It confused the Eimiv.” “Yes, I fell from the darkness above onto this place. I am the Eimiv, the Fallen One.” The words from the crystalline creature seemed far less hesitant although both Ionera and Torvik continued to hear them as either female or male respectively. Simultaneously, the couple were receiving visual flashes that they could not completely identify but which somehow assisted the creature in conveying its thoughts. Torvik correctly guessed that that the distinct five senses were not the same with the crystalline being and that some of the creature’s responses were being transmitted to them first as a visual impression and then rapidly changed to a verbal one, perhaps at such a rapid pace, that their brains never would process the input as visual at all, instead transforming the data into words. Even being the son of a professor, it was difficult for Torvik to completely appreciate any of the physics involved and at this point, it did not matter to him. The days of allowing his inner mouse to rule him were long since gone. “What we just experienced, “Torvik remarked to the creature, “that was part of your memory of what happened. The sensations and the shaking, we were crashing into the planet, just as you crashed into Asharra.” “You are correct. I lost parts of myself, parts which became different after the Eimiv, the falling.” As the creature said this, Torvik could sense a change in his environment, even through his closed eyelids. He opened his dream eyes for a moment and immediately saw that all around both he and Ionera , the background had changed from white to red. Wanting to resume communication with the crystal creature, Torvik then closed his eyes once again. Once he had done this, he received an image that must 560

The Winds of Asharra have been what the creature had somehow perceived just before its arrival on Asharra. It was a mental picture of a planet in the black void of space, a rapidly approaching planet of green oceans, red lands, dotted with a few pale blue wisps of clouds here and there. It was his first view of Asharra from space. “It’s beautiful.” Ionera smiled with her eyes firmly shut, “Asharra, the home around us.” The image of the planet rapidly grew in size, from the perspective of the creature’s crash landing upon the surface. As it entered the atmosphere, a few smaller pieces broke off from the main one, though it happened so fast that neither Torvik nor Ionera could count them or say for certain which direction they went. “I joined with this world, your Asharra. it is my home now, as well. “ the creature explained. “I meant no harm when I arrived. I could not have known the destruction I would cause.” “It was the most shallow of things but not empty.” Ionera attempted to comfort him. “The winds that carried you here did so for a purpose. It was your Kokayniah.” Torvik wondered if the creature had been attached to a comet or asteroid or perhaps actually was the comet or asteroid itself. Really, it did not matter and he allowed the thought to leave his mind as quickly as it came. “How should we refer to you, since Eimiv seems a sad reminder of what happened to you.” “I do not have a specific designation.” came the reply. Torvik was about to conclude that the creature’s vocabulary was becoming increasingly more complex and even scientific until the probable truth dawned on him. Just as he and Ionera were experiencing the creature’s voice as either masculine or feminine, depending on their prefer561

R. Leigh ence, it was quite likely that they were hearing a very different yet parallel vocabulary from it. For Torvik, the responses might appear more formal and scientific. To Ionera, they would sound softer and warmer, perhaps even poetic and compassionate. Perhaps, the truth was somewhere in the middle. “Do you want a name? “ Ionera asked, appearing to get somewhat off the track, “It would make it easier to speak with you.” Both adolescents felt a compulsion to open their eyes, at least their dream eyes and this time, Ionera saw the same crimson background around them, which Torvik had observed just previously. “That is my name.” the creature said to her. “Red.” she said in a pure and empathic tone, “We’ll call you Red.” “Part of your world touched me as I reached out to it. We are still distinct but we share a bond. My form was damaged in the fall and I gained sustenance from the soil to repair myself.” “You changed color as you absorbed something of Asharra.” Torvik said softly. He felt the crystal pendant with his dream hands, now knowing more than ever how it was truly the symbol for Asharra. The creature and the world were linked in a symbiotic relationship, all because of the accidental damage it had caused. There was no way of telling how long Ionera and Torvik continued to communicate with the creature, now simply called Red, by the adolescents. It showed them much of what had transpired since the original crash. Still, there was no way of knowing just how long ago this occurred since it was long before Asharrans became less feline and long before the planet had begun to be slowly transformed by the 562

The Winds of Asharra creature, as an act of remorseful restitution for its accidental crime of causing planetary upheaval and mass extinctions. The bonded couple watched through their closed eyes and listened attentively while they slept silently at the amazing details of the story, as related by the crystalline being. Red informed them of its deep sorrow at discovering the scope of the devastation it had caused and its clear desire not only to attempt to set as many things right as it could but also to improve upon what it had found originally. It appeared that Yavaran was completely correct. The motivation for Red was both one of a personal nature and a greater philosophical one as well. Although composed entirely of crystal and therefore living a life totally alien to animal based life, Red spoke to the couple of its way of life and philosophy. Nothing contradicted anything that Ionera had ever been taught. The concept of a primeval energy or Asha was known to Red as was the idea of the commonality of energy and particles in everything, joined together in life and dispersed in death. “Then crystals can die.” Ionera thought to herself, unaware that in a dream-state, there was little difference between a silent thought and a spoken word.” “My form can change, just as yours can, even if it means that my very consciousness might end.” Red agreed. “That is what is in danger of happening prematurely.” “You are dying?” Ionera gasped in shock and sorrow. “What can we do to help?” asked her mate, still befuddled how two examples of animal life, like he and Ionera could assist a crystal being, one that might be millions or even billions of years old. “My structure was altered when I fell to Asharra. I par563

R. Leigh ticipated in this process in order to learn about this new world. The rocks and dirt were similar to what I had known elsewhere but within them teemed life I had never seen, what you call plant or animal.” “Yes, but how can we help you?” Ionera repeated, less concerned with the science involved than the sincere desire to assist the creature who had done so much for Asharra. This crystal being, called Red, had over the millenia, altered their weather patterns and changed the course of both evolution and culture by encouraging chemical changes in the ground which would give a preference to certain types of plants. Later, after it had somehow made contact with the great dragons, it had even sought to repair the damage to the eco-system, helping raise up the feline Asharrans and gently nudge them toward a philosophy by showing them an ever improving environment around them. Still, it appeared that Red believed in the inherent possibilities of the ethereal winds of energy called the Asha . It was the gentle philosophy of a space faring crystalline race and one which, if transplanted to the world of plants and animals, might give them both peace and peace of mind as well. In time, these improvements to the Asharran ecosystem even involved the introduction of new DNA and lifestyles from other planets, via the Asharra-dobar, a cooperative venture between the other native sentient lifeform on Asharra, the dragons, and the crystal being itself. “Where I fell has changed. It has become .... wet.” Red explained. “The impact crater from your arrival... we think of it as a massive lake.” Torvik explained. “A kibur.” Ionera echoed. “The changes I have made to your soil which makes it 564

The Winds of Asharra so fertile are caught up and brought into the sky before falling as water.” “Condensation.. clouds... simple weather patterns.” Torvik thought to himself. “So simple, unfortunately, “ Red continued, “ that over the ages, it filled this... crater and submerged me under much water.” “Why is the water harmful to you?” Torvik asked, now longer hoping for any scientific explanation, but rather desiring more knowledge to enable them to assist. “As such it is not, but as I have been transformed as well, to this new form and color, I see that enough of it can mute and distort the resonance of my being.” “Her sha is becoming weak.” Ionera whispered to herself. “My energy is slowly being drawn out of me and dispersed, making even the creation of what you call the Asharra-dobar, the fusing with the dragon eggs, increasingly difficult.” “Are you asking us to drain the lake?” Torvik inquired. “I am.” came the simple reply. “I could survive for many of your lifetimes without this action but eventually, my own energy would give out. Even now, I can now longer begin the transformation process, changing the dragon eggs and charging them.” “Zoe and I would be the last Iramu.” Torvik gasped. “If you can not help me, that would be quite true.” The teenager recalled that he had never actually seen the lake, the kibur, but from Yavaran’s descriptions, it was huge. It would not surprise him to discover that it might even equal the size of one of the Great Lakes in the United States on Earth. How could he ever hope to drain such a lake of water? It seemed impossible. He knew that there 565

R. Leigh was no easy way to attempt to counteract these feelings of frustration without some direct verification. They would have to survey this area and see just how bad the scope of the project really was. “We’ll do whatever we can.” Ionera said, attempting to reassure Red of her sincerity, “after all you have done for Asharra.” “I agree.” Torvik added, “I give you our word but please answer me this one question.” “If I can,” Red replied to both of them. “Your experiments with the Meeru... were you trying to improve the Asharrans as a species by mixing the dragon DNA with their own or were you trying to engineer a way to solve your problem?” Without saying it directly, Torvik was also asking the crystalline creature why he had been brought to Asharra. Was it for the good of the planet or for the good of the intelligent red crystal creature? There was a short pause and for a moment, Torvik wondered what sort of explanation would follow the answer which he clearly anticipated. When the reply was not only not what he had guessed, but was limited to a single word, he did not know how to respond. “Both.” the crimson crystal being simply said. Ionera reached over to Torvik with her dream hands and squeezed him, indicating her approval of Red’s motives. There was nothing shallow in the minds of any Asharran to attempt to combine personal and greater satisfaction in any endeavor. Clearly, the Asharrans were neither overly altruistic nor vain anarchists and narcissists. The reality was something in the middle, something transformed into a condition totally natural and positive by their way of life. Their’s was the celebration of the proverbial 566

The Winds of Asharra win-win situation. Ionera saw Red’s response as no different than one she would make. It was totally Asharran in every sense of the word. Torvik felt her warm and tender touch around his waist and upon his chest. The sensation was pleasingly familiar but unexpected at the same time. He had actually felt it. With no effort on his part, the 22 year old opened his eyes and gazed at his mate beside him. Her overall appearance and nudity was wonderful and refreshing to his psyche. Without much encouragement from his gentle shaking, Ionera opened her amber eyes and stared at her mate, as her surroundings and her perspective came back into focus. “You remember it all, don’t you?” she asked. “It was real wasn’t it? We met him.. we spoke to Red.” “It was real.” Torvik sighed to her hugging her and pulling her body close to his. He sighed to himself and vainly hoped that she would not sense his frustration. If the shared experience was real, than so was the challenge. How would he and Ionera alone be able to assist the crystalline creature? Ionera and Torvik discussed the situation at length between themselves, determining that it was still too early to wake the others in the Zaya. Still, if these initial attempt at discovering a solution were any indication of their prowess in problem solving, it was clear that they would require the combined brain power of all inside the pyramid. Alone, they weren’t getting anywhere. Torvik did determine that he was able to maintain a sort of background link to Red even when not asleep,so long as he wore the crystal pendant, due no doubt to the creature’s conscious attempt at attuning itself to what it had called Torvik’s frequency. The thoughts that the 22 year old received from the crystalline being were not as complex or 567

R. Leigh precise via this method but it was useful to at least ask Red his opinion of the feasibility of anything they had thought of thusfar. It was also useful as a method to obtain specific flashes of insight from the creature, probably very similar to the method that Yavaran had employed when she gained her wisdom of the history of the creature she called the Eimiv. It was quite a surprise to everyone when Ionera and Torvik announced their contact with the crystalline creature during the course of the Ya-to, or communal early breakfast meal. Actually, that is not completely correct as Yavaran appeared to anticipate that this subject was going to be raised. However, the wise Rohulu found herself mesmerized by the actual details of the adolescent’s dream. Her contact with Red had been only one way, and as detailed as she perceived it to be, it had been only superficial compared to what the young couple was now apparently capable of receiving. “The lake is huge. “ Wole grunted in typical blunt Loak form. “There is no way what you ask could be accomplished.” “No, no, that is not the correct way to go about this, “ Evan Durant objected, “if we are going to brainstorm ideas, we must consider every possibility, regardless how ridiculous. Then we can rule them out.” The process of brainstorming, common in both the academic or business world on Earth was less familiar to the Asharrans, who would have preferred a more methodical approach. The professor understood the importance of applying a little bit of structure to the process, even though the topic seemed so fantastic. “That’s right. “ Torvik agreed enthusiastically, “We need to consider every possibility. We have to think outside of the box.” 568

The Winds of Asharra While his premise was correct, Torvik quickly learned that his first requirement was not to utilize Earth expressions or colloquialisms. It took far too long to explain the nuances of the terms to the other Asharrans, and in the end, might be doing more harm than good in furthering the discussion. Ionera sensed his initial disappointment at the other’s reaction to these shallow words, which, even when spoken in native Asharran, did not readily transfer their meaning. “We are from so many different backgrounds and experiences, “ she chirped, “surely if the problem can be solved, the answer will be found here.” Oppapalo smiled at his daughter, completely aware at her efforts to increase the enthusiasm of the small gathering. In theory she might be correct. In one place, those assembled had the collective experience and differing perspectives that ranged from Loak crystal making, Earth science, Asharran wisdom of the elders, Oon plant knowledge and unconventional thought from both Ionera and Torvik. Together, the group brought a lot to the proverbial table, but was this a problem that could be solved at all? Their meal was long since over, and no real progress had been made in method or plan in any tangible way. “Dragons!” Wole announced. “They can produce incredible fire and heat. You saw what they did to the central stone at the Osharra Circle, fusing it solid.” Yavaran frowned at the two legged steer, clearly dampening his enthusiasm. “We only have two at our disposal, and regardless of their impressive size, that would not be enough.” “Then perhaps we should look for more.” Ionera replied, assuming it sounded perfectly logical. “And how should we do that, child? I do not want to 569

R. Leigh risk losing Yi and Ya. They are critical to the doing of the Asharra-dobar.” “The dreegins, “ Shiara offered, “why couldn’t they scout for more large dragons?” “I don’t have any hard data to support this, but if the lake is as large as Yavaran says it is, then we would need far too many dragons for that approach to work. “ The professor suggested. “We aren’t certain, just how many there are of them left.” Yavaran sighed, “Yi is only fertile one month every seven years, so that may be some indication why their numbers have not increased with any great speed.” “So you are an expert on dragons, now?” Wole snorted, annoyed at the apparent dead end. Yavaran abruptly slapped her tail on top of one of the low tables without comment. The others recalled her previous explanation of communication with the dragons via the translations of the dreegins. “Is there any Asharran technology that could do this?” Torvik asked, anything we haven’t brought up yet.” They had already spoken of the regular Asharran crystal based devices for heating food and that also proved an empty lead. Ionera inquired from her mother and Yavaran if there might be any natural herbal process that might work, when applied to the lake. “A chemical reaction.” the professor mumbled to himself as he patted his balding head as he concentrated. “Nothing that would approach the scale we would need, “ Shiara replied. “ If we were on Shellibak,” the Oons collectively thought at the group, “ we could utilize a mineral in the soil, which exists outside of our Green Zone. It would 570

The Winds of Asharra make the water become a vapor but we have no way of making the journey or returning since the Eimiv, the Red, is too weak to produce a specific Asharra-dobar for that purpose. Are there such minerals on this world?” “None that I know.” Yavaran sighed. “Maybe we should reverse the solution. If we can’t evaporate the water, can we freeze it and chip it away?” Torvik asked, attempting to approach the problem from all sides. “A good concept. “ his father complimented him but in a world such as Asharra where there is an almost perpetual warm spring, they probably never had developed such things.” Oppapalo nodded in agreement, a clear sign that the professor was unfortunately correct. “Right. There are no refrigerators or anything close since food is abundant. With perfect climate and a ready food source, there’s no need.” Torvik sighed in despair. “Perhaps we are looking in a manner not appropriate, “ the Oon called First thought at the group. “What do you mean?” Ionera asked, looking for some glimmer of hope. “We have been searching for a solution from outside. Perhaps it should come from within.” The members of the group were silent, each trying to interpret the hidden meaning of the small plant’s thoughts. Did he wish them to meditate on the matter? Was there some mystical solution that would make the answer appear? The Oon read their minds, and was apologetic, when it realized that its words had been misinterpreted. “We mean to literally look within your animal bodies. Unlike we plants, you animals produce zim.” Torvik smiled at the suggestion but was completely 571

R. Leigh baffled at any hidden implication the Oon might be making. “Do any species on Asharra produce zim that has the property we require, that could deal with the water in the lake?” “The dragons.” Yavaran cackled in satisfaction. “You witnessed it yourself I am certain, when you journeyed underground.” Torvik recalled the hundreds of amber rectangular pieces of zim that were embedded in the walls of the tunnel which ran under the Osharra circle all the way to the Zaya. They had glowed and became brightly lit when one was ignited by the fire from a single tiny purple dreegin. The light had jumped, domino fashion from one golden zim to another until the entire tunnel was brightly lit. “There was not enough heat or power coming from that zim, “ Wole grunted, apparently in frustration. “They were activated by a tiny dreegin, not a large dragon.” Yavaran cackled in clear triumphant glee. “Two large dragons alone could never do what you wish, drain the kibur, but two dragons, multiplying their own power by collectively lighting the zim could be sufficient.” Torvik attempted to grapple with the concept, “so Dragon zim not only stores energy, it amplifies it. That was why little Huff, a tiny dreegin, could light the entire tunnel.” “So if one small dreegin can produce that much energy using the dragon zim, than the dragon’s themselves can make considerably more. I don’t pretend to understand the physics, but on the surface, it appears to make sense. “ his father remarked, seemingly in agreement. “We still have a problem, well, actually, several.” the blue-black Loak groaned to the group. “I know you are just trying to be helpful,” Theyna 572

The Winds of Asharra sighed at her mate, “what are the problems?” “First, the size of the lake is too large. It would take hundreds of the pieces of dragon zim.” “We have hundreds of pieces. “Yavaran laughed, “all embedded in the walls of that tunnel and several other tunnels which you have not seen.” “That is the other problem. “ Wole reminded her, “It will take effort to pry so many pieces of zim from the walls and then there is the matter of positioning the zim.” “Yes, I see what he is saying, “Theyna remarked, agreeing with her mate, “It would take forever for us to do that and then position the zim all along the lake in a giant circle.” “Not if we have help.” announced Torvik. “There are more than enough hands to do the work.” “Where?” Wole grunted. “In Osharra-Kibur of course, “ the teenager grinned from ear to ear. There are hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in that Osharra.” The giant Loak snorted in disgust. Yavaran hung her head in apparent agreement with him. Enlisting the aid of the entire Osharra was out of the question. It would reveal the existence of the Zaya, the nature of the crystal creature, to say nothing of the dragon-like physical appearance of Shiara, Torvik and the Rohulu herself. It was precisely what they were attempting to avoid. She could not guarantee the reaction of the Asharran people, no matter how open-minded they were. If any small minority refused out of fear after learning of the existence of the Eimiv, or worse yet, decided to worship the creature, it would alter Asharran culture irrevocably and destroy the harmony and balance that carried them along on the winds. “No, you don’t understand.” Torvik said in a loud and 573

R. Leigh impassioned voice. “We can make this work.” He thought out the details of the plan in his head, knowing that the Oon would pick it up, which in a few minutes was exactly what happened. The four Oon suddenly formed themselves into the familiar ball shape and began to spin together in a very tight circle, as if in intense debate. “It appears our colleagues have taken up the matter.” the professor remarked, gesturing to the spectacle occurring on the dirt floor next to them. “Let’s hope they do not find a flaw in your plan.” Oppapalo added, “but if anyone can, it will be the Oon. What was it that the large one said concerning thinking... that is what we do best.” “Yes, but usually over a very long time.” said Shiara. “We’re asking them to analyze Torvik’s plan, whatever it is, in far less time than they are accustomed.” “They are our computers.” Evan Durant beamed with pleasure at his son. “They’re using their powers of logical deduction to step through all of the possibilities of whatever you have already come up with... I like it.” Torvik smiled sheepishly as Ionera reached over and squeezed his dox in approval. It stiffened automatically, much to his chagrin. “I hope we can celebrate properly after the Oon have checked out my plan.” he smiled slyly at his mate. “I have not celebrated since I awoke, “ she giggled. The Oon continued to quickly revolve in a small circle counter clockwise until they abruptly stopped and returned to their upright form. “I have proposed your suggested solution before my brother-sisters.” First telepathically announced to Torvik, but transmitted to all in the room. 574

The Winds of Asharra “And I have played the role of Opposer of the idea, “ thought the Oon named Fifth.” “Don’t keep us in suspense?” Torvik stammered, “Will my plan work?” “What is his plan?” Wole whispered to Theyna. The Oon known as First slowly extended one of his upper limbs and tilted it upwards. No further telepathic sign was given to the group. For a moment, it confused everyone there until Torvik began to laugh. “He’s giving me the thumb’s up, even if he doesn’t have thumbs! They think it will work.” he exclaimed with glee, hugging Ionera tightly with pure joy. “We believe this to be so.” First thought at the nonplants in the chamber. “It will require the assistance of Wole’s apprentices as well as that from several dreegins, but we believe the concept is sound. You must consult with Red, the Eimiv to confirm this, of course.” “Of course, “ Torvik smiled, as he closed his eyes and placed one hand on the red crystal pendant around his neck. He knew by now that apart from being decorative, and according to Yavaran, enabling some sort of long range communication between Ionera and himself, that it could contact the crystal creature and ask for its opinion. “I still don’t know what his plan is.” Wole, now openly irritated, grunted to Theyna “Patience my mate. “ Theyna whispered to him as she began to massage his massive darana’s in an effort to divert his attention from this obvious frustration. Yavaran flashed a silent glance toward Evan Durant, a piercing look whose meaning was immediately clear to the professor. The Rohulu was indicating her satisfaction and vindication of her original estimation of the professor’s son. She was sure that this would be only the first of many 575

R. Leigh things he might do for Asharra, if he allowed himself to be carried along by the mystical winds. “Red says he can do his part to make it work!” Torvik yelled to the group, “ We have ourselves a workable plan.” “I refuse to help unless I am informed. “ Wole pouted as Ionera and her mother both burst into laughter. “Not to worry, because it requires an expert tiira-lu such as yourself and his apprentices to make it work.” Torvik teased him, widening his eyes and smiling cryptically. “In that case I will support your idea, since I can vouch for the quality of my own work. “the Loak proclaimed quite realistically and without false pride. “I only hope any other aspects can be counted on as readily.” “You believe that this action, getting the entire Osharra to help with the removal and the placement of the zim tablets, will enable Yavaran and I to live openly again?” Shiara asked Torvik in a clearly emotional tone. “Yes, I do, Shiara. It’s just crazy enough to work.” Torvik chuckled. “Then a two part plan it is,” the professor announced to the group, “My son will somehow supply a willing workforce and then we will remove the zim from the walls and place it all around the lake.” “Then Red will be strong and well again, “Ionera happily summarized, “and be able to continue helping everyone on Asharra listen to the winds. It will be pure Uatu.. without effort.” “I don’t know if I would go that far..” Torvik whispered to her. “ By Evan Durant’s estimation, approximately eighteen Asharran days had transpired since the group had gathered for Ya-to and determined what their course of action would be to assist Red, the powerful crystalline creature responsi576

The Winds of Asharra ble for tweaking much of Asharran evolution and culture towards a more harmonious and tranquil existence. All required parties had been diligently at work at their respective portions of this part of the greater plan. Some, such as Wole’s apprentices, as well as Zoe, assisted remotely, working from the great Loak’s shop in Asharrakibur. The remainder attempted to do their part from within the confines of the immediate vicinity of the Zaya. Overall, there was no significant grumbling or feelings of discouragement, although Torvik continued to keep them in the dark as to the details of his part of the two step plan. His strategy would soon be evident, however, as well as it’s effectiveness, since the efforts of the diverse group of beings were almost complete. During this interim, Torvik spent considerable time with Ionera, not only fremming as expected, but also attempting to improve upon their flying techniques. Their first real attempt at utilizing their new wings outside had clearly been a disaster. While they had become reasonably proficient in the technique for growing and shrinking the wings, such simple matters as take offs and landings did not prove as easy. “I don’t know why I thought I could just flap these things and I would suddenly be an expert. “ the teenager mumbled to his mate as he prepared for another test flight. “I mean I never studied aerodynamics, and all that stuff about lift and drag and wind resistance.” “I’m sure that Huff studied quite diligently each and every one of those concepts.” Ionera giggled in a decidedly appropriate way for a 18 year old, even one equipped with a pair of red wings. She flapped them and took a running start, eventually half jumping into the air. 577

R. Leigh “If I can do it, you certainly can.” she laughed to her mate, leaving him a few feet from her still on the ground. “Hovering is no problem. “ he sighed, “but the other stuff will definitely take more practice.” Their friendly purple friend, Huff, suddenly zoomed by Torvik and Ionera, gliding effortlessly, a perfect example of Uatu. “Sure, go and show off.” Torvik grumbled, only half jokingly. The tiny dreegin swung by for another approach near the couple. Torvik had managed a rather ungainly take off and was hovering in one spot, while Ionera was lazily doing some twists and turns around him, and even the occasional loop. “I thought you said you weren’t very athletic.” Torvik sighed, as he observed the apparent grace of his 18 year old mate. “Perhaps it is just because I have seen and felt this in my dreams for so long that I just feel how to fly. I just allow my greater mind to do what is true and not try to think about it.” Torvik was suddenly convinced that she was correct. As Huff attempted to make a complex and melodious la to console him, the teenager was surprised when he began to understand a word here and there from the little dreegin. He had forgotten that the combination of the red crystal pendant and the new inclusion of dreegin DNA into his system might result in some wonderful side effects. He did not need the charged doh-rah to understand the dreegin’s words. His own body chemistry, now altered, was interfacing with the red crystal and doing the same thing. “Fly easy, fly easy,” Huff sang in his la to him, “Be easy and true and let the winds join you in the dance.” 578

The Winds of Asharra The simplicity of the dreegin’s advice also never occurred to him, to think of it as literally as dancing on air, except the obvious substitution of flapping and body postures for static land bound footwork. It took awhile, but thanks to the advice from both Ionera and the helpful Huff, Torvik was gradually able to improve his flying ability enough to even engage in impromptu races with his mate. Since there was no real sense of competition on Asharra, the concept of winning and losing was foreign to Ionera, and Torvik did not want to spoil things by introducing it so their races were happy and playful things, usually ending in a midair embrace or kiss while suspended high in midair. Over time, the pair became proficient enough so that their efforts in the air were as natural as it was on the ground. Granted, Torvik still shied away from complicate spins and loops at this point. This was partially because he really did require further training in such maneuvers. Also, it was partially because he enjoyed admiring the sight of Ionera performing these endeavors and he wanted her to enjoy the unique status in his minds as the only one capable of doing so for as long as possible. Knowing that Ionera did not usually consider herself graceful, it made him feel glad to observe the natural talent she seemed to possess when in the air. Truly, she had always been Meeru. It was just that some genetic key had not been activated to allow her wings to fully manifest themselves. She was at home in the sky and clearly felt her sha soar as she literally rode the winds of Asharra around her. When not discussing their strategy for implementing Phase 1 of the plan to help Red, the crystal creature, Torvik and Ionera spent their time alternating between lengthy enjoyable sessions fremming each other and improving their flying abilities. They had even mastered a position or two 579

R. Leigh in the air by the time that Theyna had reminded them of her mate’s imminent arrival. “Wole should be back any time now, “ Theyna announced to the couple as she poked her head into the chamber which previously had been the professor’s study, but which had been loaned out as a make shift headquarters for their planning. “The dragons finished their part as well.” Ionera gleefully shared with the long haired Asharran, a few years her senior. “I think everyone is almost ready.” “I just returned from the dobar chamber a little while ago, and I’m amazed how little time it took them to put up the temporary covering.” Ionera nodded, hoping that the stacked branches would be secure enough should one of the frequent Asharran rain showers occur during the time before the old construction could be restored. Torvik attempted to display nothing but confidence and optimism, but it was clear to all of the Oon that he was a little concerned, not about the details of his plan, but rather about its execution. It seemed simple, but sometimes simple things go awry. Finally, a few additional days passed and all was at last in readiness. The necessary players assembled outside of the Zaya with hopeful determination. Torvik examined their efforts, like a military general reviewing his troops before some great battle. The analogy was in some ways appropriate, although no violence was anticipated, although they would be ready for even that eventuality, should it occur. “It looks like we’re ready for Phase 1,” he smiled to his father and Yavaran. “Don’t forget these, “ Theyna reminded him as she dis580

The Winds of Asharra tributed some mashed Srolla roots to everyone present. The dark yellow waxy plants would play an important role in the overall plan. “If things work out, you’ll be able to start Phase 2 in no time, “the teenager remarked to his father as he accepted the roots from Theyna. She continued to distribute them to everyone else present while Evan Durant attempted to whisper some words of encouragement to his son. “I know you’ve thought this through, and you have the support of the Oons but are you sure you don’t need my help?” he asked. “It will be fine.” came the reply. Evan Durant nodded to his son in final agreement, “Well then, I suppose I will begin preparing for Phase 2. We’ve identified all of the zim tablets that need to be removed, at least based on the Yavaran’s estimate of the size of the lake. I’d feel more comfortable if you and Ionera could do some long range reconnaissance from the air to confirm things.” “Me too, “ Torvik whispered, “but we can’t risk being seen prematurely. That would spoil everything for Phase 1.” “You two are enjoying this far too much.” Ionera giggled to them as she inserted herself between them, placing her arms around Torvik. “We’ve done all we can. There’s nothing left to do but cast it off to the winds.” “True in more ways than one.” Torvik chuckled. His father cast him a puzzled look as the others present started to fidget and show signs of nervous anticipation. This time, it was not only Wole who was curious. All of the others, except for the telepathic Oon, wondered how their individual pieces would contribute to Torvik’s plan for the initial phase, how to assemble the workforce. 581

R. Leigh Then, at last, it was time for final instructions, which the teenager gave after a kiss of encouragement from his mate. “Let’s do this, then...” he shouted, with an excited laugh. Paraaz, the winged drager, appeared first, and took his place at what would be the front of the departure line. His green fur glistened in the bright light and he looked as majestic and imposing as any flying feline would be. Huff appeared next, his familiar small purple form was reassuring to those present, since Torvik had cryptically hinted that the dreegins were key to his strategy. This time, however, the tiny purple creature was not alone. Hovering in mid air, behind the great winged cat, was a flock of approximately seventy five of the miniature dragons. It was an amazing sight to see so many of them assembled in one spot. Most were of a red coloration but here and there were purple dreegins such as Huff, as well as a few even more obscure blue and green ones. Their photo sensitive scales shimmered, absorbing the combined nourishment from the twin suns, Ya and Yi, which were almost at their zenith. “It looks like your air force is ready, “ the Professor half joked to his son. “That’s only the first wave. “Torvik smiled, pointing to an amazing sight rapidly approaching. Moving in tandem and with perfect symmetry, the two huge dragons, Yi and Ya, flew overhead, one completely black in color and the other of pure white. Between them, in their powerful talons, they held a long and heavy chain fashioned from Yula vines lashed together, whose strength rivaled any synthetic material from Earth. The vines not only connected the two large dragons, they formed an enormous basket like enclosure between them. Inside the 582

The Winds of Asharra reinforced woven basket was the center portion that had been the red crystalline capstone ceiling stone, carefully removed from the top of the stone pyramid. On either side of the large basket were two smaller ones, filled to the brim with the result of the efforts of the crystal shaping bull and his apprentices. In short, all was in readiness. “The aerial group looks fine.” Torvik concluded, smiling for the benefit of his father and Ionera. “We are ready as well, “Oppapalo remarked, standing next to Wole. They each carried a large closed sack over their backs, the only tools they would require. Assisting them would be the Oon, all four now rolled in ball form and eager to depart for Asharra-kibur.” “You look like you’re ready to do battle.” Evan Durant nervously said, noting the impressive collection of characters assembled together. “They will only be fighting their fears and worries.” Torvik replied. He turned towards his friends and finally summarized his plan for Phase 1 for them. They were surprised at the simplicity of the concept but not entirely certain about its chance for success. Wole correctly guessed that it had not been shared because of the strangeness of the approach. It was one of those things that you either instinctively liked or disliked and nothing could change your mind one way or the other. Yavaran and the Professor had signaled their initial confidence in Torvik and even allowed him to design and coordinate the implementation of this first of the two phases of the larger plan to assist the Eimiv. Hearing the specific details, although a bit of a surprise to them, did not diminish their confidence in the 22 year old. “Is Red up to this as well?” Evan Durant inquired to his son. 583

R. Leigh “We’ve discussed the approach and I tried to explain more about human emotions to him. He’s a fast study.” “I hope so, son. There’s a lot at stake.” the professor replied, gazing at the diverse group of beings surrounding the Zaya. “They have a lot of faith in you. So do I. Whenever you are ready...” He tapped his son on the shoulder and touched the end of one of his blue wings for luck. “You’ve got the hang of them now?” he whispered. “As long as I don’t have to do loops or spins” Ionera raised her eyebrows but chose wisely not to remind her mate of his initial experiences exercising his dark blue wings in the Asharran sky. She successfully stifled a giggle and instead offered a small smirk which Torvik immediately recognized. He lovingly squeezed the globes of her shapely young tezz, in mock retaliation for her obvious silliness. “Let’s just say I have improved quite a bit since my first flight.” he chuckled softly. His father smiled politely, knowing exactly when it was the proper time not to press the subject. His son had much more immediate concerns that warranted his undivided attention. Releasing a deep and measured breath, the 22 year old gazed at his Asharran friends of every shape, size and disposition. He saw their obvious warmth and trust in him, despite any lingering doubts about his plan. The time for discussion and analysis was over. “Now everyone, don’t remove the Srolla roots until it’s all done. Let’s go!” With that the odd unarmed battalion departed, but not before all present except the dreegins, dragons and Oon, placed the Srolla roots in their ears. For the majority of them, there would not be any communication until the deed 584

The Winds of Asharra was done. The notable exceptions were Torvik and Ionera, who discovered as a result of their dreegin blood, that they could communicate with each other telepathically as long as they wore the crystal pendants, and of course the collection of Oon, who were natural mind readers and whose abilities were not limited by such things. The others would have to rely on hand signals and visual cues. Thus, without any further words of encouragement or instruction, the operation that was Phase 1 of the plan to assist the Oon was launched. They were out to secure a workforce to collect and position the dragon zim tablets around the lake. Simultaneously, they sought to free Yavaran and Shiara and most likely now, themselves, from the need to secret themselves away in the Zaya. Wearing the makeshift earplugs from the Srolla roots, the air contingent took off for Osharra-kibur while down below, Oppapalo and Wole journeyed there on foot, carrying sacks over their backs. The four small Oons rolled along at a considerable speed behind them, displaying the difference in velocity from their larger Father-mother, who had more bulk to move when in a plant ball mode. The first leg of the journey was an uneventful and silent one, and all airborne parties clearly enjoyed the warmth of the twin suns and the serenity of gliding along in the familiar purple sky. Ionera could not sense the sound, since she wore the Srolla roots in her ears, but the contented expression on Paraaz’s green face seemed to suggest that the winged feline was purring as he flapped his mighty wings, clearly enjoying the experience and his uniqueness among the gerh. The great cat caught sight of her watching him and blinked his dark eyes at her several times in a slow steady manner, as if to signal his tranquil state of mind. “You fly almost as well as I do, “Paraaz thought to 585

R. Leigh himself as he glided along, “if that is even possible.” “I believe it is.” Ionera giggled telepathically, temporarily startling the winged drager in the sky. “You can speak to my head. “ he puzzled, “Amazing.” Torvik also heard the thoughts of the flying creature, and attempted to explain the cause, the dreegin DNA and the crystal pendants to the cat, but Paraaz seemed to take no notice. It was enough for the creature that Torvik and Ionera could communicate with him. The hows and why did not matter to Paraaz. Such things were considered shallow by the cat, and got in the way of higher pursuits. “Oh really,” Torvik chuckled to himself, intercepting the animal’s thoughts. “He has a high opinion of himself,” Ionera transmitted via the crystal, not realizing that both Torvik and Paraaz received her thought and automatically assumed she was referring to the other. The Meeru laughed as she happily flapped her red wings. She always enjoyed the feel of the suns all over her naked body but to experience the warmth of the suns and the gentle breezes this high up, from all directions, was pleasure beyond description. Behind them, the two massive dragons, Yi and Ya, pulled the large woven basket, suspended on fibrous cord, between them. The contents of the basket, a large piece of red crystal, originally shaped to fit upon the top of the pyramid as a capstone, glistened and reflected the light of the two suns. Time passed and as expected, the welcoming triangular Arch of Osharra-Kibur came into view. The events that immediately followed what precisely what anyone would have expected. The unusual aerial collection of dreegins, dragons, Paraaz, Ionera and Torvik flew in plain sight above the Osharra, until they finally set586

The Winds of Asharra tled in one predetermined location, the center of the town, the great Osharra Circle. As would have been expected, there were already quite a few Asharrans there, present for the variety of ritual Doings being performed. The crowd, however, rapidly swelled in size, due to the clear pandemonium caused by this bizarre collection of beings soaring overhead. The Asharrans of this particular Osharra, were accustomed to observing an occasional dreegin or two darting about in an otherwise tranquil purple sky. This, however, was not only completely different, it defied comparison. It would have been totally inaccurate to describe the local reaction as a panic. If there were a few of the naked orange skinned Asharrans here and there who allowed their feelings to manifest itself primarily as fear, they were distinctly in the minority. No, the overall reaction was dumbfounded shock mixed with an intense curiosity. Whether or not this last element was a genetic carryover from their original feline roots was unknown. What was clear was that every Asharran of Osharra-kibur who observed the winged procession overhead followed the creatures in the sky, often shouting to their friends and relatives inside their homes or the local bartering centers and shops. Within no time at all, the crowd swelled, filling the seating around the ceremonial circle and overflowing into the aisles and associated spaces until Torvik and Ionera observed a sea of confused and curious citizens below. There was no angry shouting or waving of fists as this was not the Asharran way but that is not to suggest that they were silent as well. No, there was a collective buzz heard by those overhead, sounds of amazement and wonder, sounds full of questions. Both Ionera and Paraaz began to perform intricate loops and acrobatic maneuvers in the air, while Torvik 587

R. Leigh was content to hover in place, studying the mesmerized reaction of the crowd below. No one had ever seen winged Asharrans or Iramu before and the existence of Paraaz, a winged gerh, was equally newsworthy and impressive. Lastly, the sight of the two enormous dragons, one white and one black, towing the large red crystal between them, suspended in a basket, cause nothing but a stunned and shocked puzzlement by the throng of Asharrans. It was as though their legends and myths had sprung to life, as they were all familiar with tales of the much larger ancestors of the more familiar dreegins. While this was going on, the flock of approximately seventy five tiny dreegins also entertained the ever growing crowd both with complicated flight patterns as well as a soothing melodious la. Finally, Torvik nodded his head to Huff, who was monitoring his movements, waiting for the necessary signal. When at last it had been received, the small purple dreegin indicated to his comrades to slowly change the content of their combined singing. Over the course of a few minutes, new and strange harmonies were added to the la, sounds which steadily overpowered the original melody. While every bit as pleasant as the previous selection, the new la had a significant and deliberate effect. It caused all of the Asharrans in the immediate area to fall into a deep sleep. The effect was benign but completely intentional and when it was clear to Torvik, that it had been achieved, he signaled Red, the primeval crystal being, that it had been accomplished. The teenager was grateful that the Srolla roots in his ears had successfully acted as makeshift earplugs, blocking the final sounds of the la from reaching his ears, Ionera’s or even that of the great winged feline, Paraaz. They had done their part, gathering the stunned 588

The Winds of Asharra crowd in one place. The rest was up to the crystal creature. There was no sign of movement below except for the arrival of Oppapalo and Wole on foot, wearing protective Srolla roots in their ears, entering the Osharra Circle with the Oons. The Asharran and the Loak put the closed sacks they were carrying on their backs on the ground and waited. From the perspective of Torvik and his friends, the wait was a short one, taking only a few moments at most. However, from the position of the slumbering Asharrans, the reverse was true. Thanks to efforts of the two large dragons, the proximity of the large crystalline capstone from the Zaya was able to be utilized by the Eimiv to reach into the slumbering subconscious minds of all the Asharrans in the Osharra. Despite their lack of any dreegin blood, it was possible for the creature to contact them so long as they slept and were close enough to the massive red crystal capstone. The crystal, which had served as the ceiling of the dobar room acted as a focal point and amplifier for the mental signals transmitted by the Eimiv. This was totally understandable since any red crystal on Asharra was in effect, a tiny portion of Red, itself. The sleeping Asharrans each individually felt a similar experience to that which Torvik and Ionera had previously undergone. At first, they saw themselves surrounded by a sea of endless white. The only difference was that, unlike the bonded couple who possessed dreegin blood, the sleeping Asharrans could not perceive this as a shared experience. For each, it was singular and personal, with only a vague knowledge that it might be happening to others. The being called Red spoke to each of them in a comforting and familiar voice, often similar to a loved one or a close friend, yet distinguishable as unique and distinct. This 589

R. Leigh soothed the Asharrans and prepared them for the message that was sincerely and carefully delivered to them. Taking a cue from Yavaran’s comments that she was not capable of conveying the details and deep meanings of the tale of the Eimiv, Torvik had decided to allow the crystal creature itself, to make its case before the populace. Since there was no sense of time in this dream state, Red could have a dialog with the Asharrans individually in what ever way might be more receptive for them, explaining, suggesting and ultimately convincing them of the truth of its existence. Since Red was not animal or plant, it could communicate with thousands of Asharrans at once, but holding unique simultaneous conversations with each of the sleepers. In this way, the Eimiv told its own story to each of them and personally apologized for the unintended harm it had caused to the planet. The story continued as Red informed them how the evolution and physical form of Asharra had been altered as a type of restitution for its mistake. It explained how it came from a race of intelligent crystal creatures, space faring beings who believed in cosmic winds that blew across the vastness of the black void of space, winds which would form the basis of their peaceful philosophy, which would be a final gift from the Eimiv to the beings of Asharra. In this way, Red made its case to each of them, one by one, explaining that it was neither monster nor god, just another traveler along the path, no different than they, except for sheer size and abilities. Red was as large and powerful in comparison to the Asharrans as they were from the little friznaggles and other small creatures on their planet. Still, the Eimiv was ultimately mortal, and offering words of apology and friendship. For some Asharrans, the mental dialog in the dreamstate did not take long (in relative dream-time) as they 590

The Winds of Asharra needed no significant convincing as to the sincerity of the creature. For others, it took considerably longer. Yet, all ultimately received a detailed explanation, which outlined the role of the Asharra-dobar, as a means of repairing planetary damage and even leaving it in an improved state. The experiments with the dreegin blood and the creation of the Meeru were similarly explained as examples of these ideals. Torvik, Ionera, Shiara and Yavaran were presented as a new type of Rohulu, a dreegin inspired embodiment of mystical truths of the cosmic winds which blew not only on Asharra but also between worlds. They would serve as living examples to the rest of the Asharrans, as well as, in the case of Shiara and Yavaran, custodians and helpers of the process of inviting new life to the planet, via the Asharradobar. While they waited for the sleepers to awaken, Wole and Oppapalo began removing the contents of the two large sacks, hundreds of red crystal pendants which the tiira-lu and his apprentices had fashioned in the intervening weeks prior to the implementation of the plan. Torvik and Ionera disconnected the two smaller baskets suspended near the larger one, held by the dragons. Inside of these were yet more red pendants, having been far too many for Wole and Oppapalo to carry. The Eimiv told each of the sleepers of the creation of these pendants, symbols of Asharra and of the blending and synergy between itself and their world. It was the symbol of the peaceful Asharran way and the crystal being’s promise to promote harmony on the planet through its work behind the scenes. Red urged each of the residents of this particular Osharra to wear one of the pendants, to signify themselves as knowledgeable in the hidden details it had revealed. Similarly, wearing such a pendant would also 591

R. Leigh mean that when traveling to other Osharra’s, they could instruct others on what they had learned, inviting other Asharrans to visit Osharra-kibur to witness this for themselves. It was only then, when the crystalline creature was certain of the receptiveness of the individual sleeping Asharrans of this osharra, that it asked for their help. Red explained its weakened state, having been transformed as a result of contact with the Asharran soil into a form whose energy could be dampened or muted if covered by tons of water. In short, it needed their help to remove that enormous body of water and expose it to the light once again. It had taken millenia for the buildup of the water inside the crater, now a lake, to reach levels detrimental to the creature. Now, it was simply asking for their help. Not only would Red be restored to perfect health if this were accomplished, but also a side benefit would result. All Asharrans would be able to view the crystal creature as a whole, and by doing so, understand its deep connection with the planet and its interconnection with the other Asharrans. It was just one more traveler on the path, but the Eimiv was a traveler who had fallen down and required assistance. Although the sleepers felt that their individual experiences had lasted any number of differing timeframes in dream-time, all of them awoke all at once. Torvik and Ionera held their breaths as they landed with Paraaz in the exact center of the Osharra Circle, standing upon the circular stone with the Aquarian symbol on it. They waited for a moment, nervously wondering if the Eimiv had been successful. Not too far away, within the Zaya, Yavaran, Shiara and Professor Durant was equally nervous. “It should not have taken this long.” Shiara sighed, in 592

The Winds of Asharra clear frustration, fidgeting with the thin lines of turquoise scales on her arms.” “Perhaps this was more than we could have expected, even from Asharrans. “ Evan reluctantly agreed. He did not anticipate that his son and the others were in any great danger but the possibility of failure did loom large in his mind. “The winds are strong,” smiled Yavaran reassuringly to the both of them, thumping her dragon tail, the only outward sign of any apprehension on her part. Suddenly, Shiara turned her head to one side, startled by something familiar but yet not. She abandoned the others, running down the corridors inside of the Zaya, until she reached the outside. It did not require any additional prompting for either Yavaran or the Professor to follow after her. Within a few moments, they stood there next to her, at the entrance to the Zaya and listened to the sound. “It’s the dreegins” Shiara announced, “I can hear them but I don’t see them.” “There are so many, you can hear their la long before they approach.” Yavaran replied, now obviously hearing the familiar melodious sounds of the winged creatures. The three of them waited apprehensively outside of the entrance to the pyramid for several minutes. At last, there was another familiar sight in the purple sky. The silhouettes rapidly grew larger and the forms close enough that their shouts below could at last be heard. “We have a problem.” Ionera shouted to those by the pyramid. Shiara’s expression was clear. She was crushed at the apparent failure of the endeavor and her daughter’s sadness. Evan Durant attempted to comfort Yavaran by placing his arms around her waist and drawing her naked 593

R. Leigh body close to his. “Look!” Ionera shouted again from the sky , this time pointing far ahead of the Zaya. “Amazing.” the professor gasped. There in the distance but approaching at a steady pace, were hundreds, no thousands of Asharrans. Each was wearing a red pendant around his or her neck. All of them were converging at the Zaya, eager to see this hidden pyramid, and eager to offer assistance. “It did not fail?” the professor remarked, clearly shocked and impressed by the approaching crowd. “You can not fail unless you give up.” Yavaran whispered quietly to him. “Torvik and Ionera are Asharrans and they do not give up “What was the problem?” Shiara yelled up to the duo, now closer overhead. “Some of them are hungry.” Torvik laughed. “Do we have enough space for them to eat inside?” “Silly dox.” Yavaran cackled. “There is no better way to celebrate than to dine outdoors under the sky. What better way to feel the warm breezes.” The entire population of Osharra-Kibur presently arrived at the Zaya and were not disappointed at what they had seen. Down to the last man, woman and child, the Asharrans from this city listened to the impassioned plea of the Eimiv and responded as any true Asharran would, they welcomed the opportunity to help. In a different way but equally as important to the health of Asharran culture, they decided neither to resent the Eimiv for its interference nor worship it for its power. It was simply viewed as another kind of Asharran, the first example of intelligent crystal life, something long believed as true according to the Asharran view of the three modes of life (animal, plant and 594

The Winds of Asharra mineral). Now, the existence of Red was not only proof, it was more importantly, the declaration of a new and powerful friend to the planet. In short, the Eimiv was accepted as just another Iramu, a transplant from another world who was now considered, unique or not, entirely Asharran. If anything, the orange skinned Asharrans, as well as the others, originating on Other worlds or the descendants of those, managed to incorporate the existence of the Eimiv into their worldview with surprising ease. It was just another deep truth, a serendipitous consequence of following the ways of Asharra, since even the Eimiv was carried along by the winds. Evan Durant calculated that it had taken the populace of the Osharra approximately five Asharran weeks to extract the hundreds of amber zim tablets embedded in the walls of the tunnels beneath the Zaya. During that time, the Asharrans also spontaneously decided to widen the path from the city to the pyramid and cut back the vegetation obscuring the path. With the existence of the mechanism of the Asharra-dobar now public, Shiara and Yavaran were viewed as cultural custodians, and the boxes which previously contained the energy spheres from the many Iramu’s arrivals over the millenia were regarded as a tangible link to Asharran history. Similarly, with the link between the Meeru and the dreegins and dragons made public, the general populace of Osharra-kibur had no problems accepting this explanation. In fact, it settled many long standing debates just what was so different about these Meeru, this subset of Asharrans. Both Yavaran and Shiara were equally pleased that their strange appearance was clearly regarded as acceptable by the culture at large. The professor had always assumed this would be the case since the Asharrans welcomed several 595

R. Leigh other less familiar looking beings, the Iramu, from other worlds. Yavaran had always had her doubts, however, reminding him that the Iramu were from elsewhere while changes to native Asharrans were something never seen. Fortunately, in this one area, the silver haired Rohulu was more than pleased to have been proven wrong. Her role in the arrival of the Iramu was now longer secret and was accepted as a normal responsibility by the Asharrans, something to be handed down by the Meeru. At the end of these five weeks, the second of the two phases of the original plan to assist the Eimiv, the draining of the kibur, was finally accomplished. Since this was more a logistical project, its success was never truly in doubt, once the necessary manpower had been acquired. With the entire population of Osharra-Kibur working together, the hundreds of amber zim tablets were removed from the tunnel walls and carefully placed all around the perimeter of the kibur, the large lake near the Osharra. While Torvik’s initial worries about the size of the lake proved unnecessary (it was huge but considerably smaller than any of the Earth’s Great Lakes), it was nevertheless a time consuming process to laboriously transport each of the zim tablets and place them around it. The old Earth adage of “many hands making light work” proved true as the occupants of Osharra-kibur circled the perimeter of the lake, placing zim tablets every twenty steps until the amber rectangles ringed the lake. Finally, on a brightly lit day at the time of mid Ya, the equivalent of High Noon, the two massive dragons stood back to back and breathed massive bursts of flame onto two of the amber tablets. Much as Torvik and the others had experienced before, but at a much more intense level, the tablets glowed and pulsated, and ultimately transferred that 596

The Winds of Asharra energy in a glowing arc to the next tablet in line. Eventually, all of the amber plates of zim, numbering in the hundreds, were brightly glowing and crackling with energy. Torvik and Ionera had spent the intervening time while all of the excavation and tablet relocation was going on, secluded in the comfortable chamber of the Zaya which had become a second home to them. Apart from eating meals and enjoying the company of their friends as well as enjoying the occasional amazement of the other Asharrans at their wings, the young couple passed the time as would be expected. They wrapped their naked bodies around each other and fremmed with wild abandon until they would collapse into sleep. This time, however, their activities were done for a higher purpose. For five Asharran weeks, they fremmed, not just for the obvious pleasure, but to charge the blades of the Red Fire, the doh-rah. At last, the time was right and the winged mates watched as the two massive dragons stood back from the original two zim tablets which they had ignited with energy. Taking up a position back to back, each holding one of the blades of the doh-rah, Torvik and Ionera pointed the red semi-circular blades at the pulsating bright tablets of zim. They began to move in tandem in a sort of dance, slow at first but filled with the passion of their weeks of fremming. After a few moments, their dance took a new turn as each of them took to the air, still moving as dancers aloft. Their naked bodies, symbolic of primal yi-sha and ya-sha energy completed a kind of circuit connecting all of the brightly glowing zim tablets. Instead of giving off a blinding light or massive amounts of heat, which would have injured the pair, the hundreds of zim tablets began to hum, releasing some sort of nameless energy. This primeval sha, 597

R. Leigh guided by Torvik and Ionera, inward toward the center of the lake caused the green water to shimmer and sparkle even more than usual, when it would catch the purple rays of the twin suns. The very water of the lake itself seemed to be joining in on the dance of the two winged creatures above them. At last, the glimmer upon the water transformed its very nature, and a loud hissing sound could be heard anywhere between the kibur and the Osharra. The surface of the lake flickered and blurred and became progressively darker. The green water appeared muddied at first but actually it was only revealing the dark red soil underneath. Unlike the vast oceans of Asharra, the lake was not home to any aquatic life and thus, when the green water suddenly winked out of existence, revealing a dry lake bottom, the sight was quite uniform. Instead of a large expanse of sparkling green water, all of the Asharrans on the ground who were present for the transformation, as well as the winged pair directly above saw only a large stretch of familiar native soil stretching for several miles. At its center however, as if resting in a smooth dish of fine sand was a huge sparkling mass of crystal. “It’s Red.” Torvik smiled to his mate, referring to both the color and the name of the crystal. “She’s beautiful. “ Ionera exclaimed, still accustomed to referring to the creature as feminine, thanks to the voice she first heard while in the dream-state. A large noisy din erupted from all along the perimeter of the area which, moments before had been a lake. It was the combined shouts and cheers from hundreds of Asharrans. The naked line of thrilled citizens ringed the previous perimeter, approaching closer as soon as the sudden transformation had taken place. They began to dance and spin in 598

The Winds of Asharra celebration of the achievement which they had helped to bring about. A flock of dozens of tiny multi-colored dreegins appeared overhead, repeatedly dashing and darting over the expanse of the newly exposed land and making a festive la for the populace to enjoy. The sight of so many nude Asharrans below them, jumping up and down, twirling and dancing in pleasure made Torvik and Ionera giddy. “You are well now?” the teenager, thought to the large red mass of crystals below. “I am .” came the reply, sounding much like his father. Torvik estimated that the Eimiv stretched at least the distance of a football field and was a shaped primarily like a massive version of the single crystal pendant he wore around his neck, apparently buried more than halfway into the ground at roughly a 45 degree angle. From the air, the crimson crystal being looked completely smooth but upon closer examination, the winged couple could see hundreds of tiny hand sized crystals growing all along the surface of the larger body. There were no other markings of any kind and certainly no features that resembled the more familiar body parts of animals or plants. If it had been discovered on Earth, it was highly likely that the inhabitants would never have realized it was even alive. “Torvik, do you sense a bit of sadness coming from Red?” Ionera asked, noticing a small undercurrent of contrary feeling, almost completely overshadowed by the overwhelming feelings of joy she was receiving via her dreegin blood and the crystal pendant. “I think so, “ he said, squinting into the purple sunlight as he scrunched his face into a quizzical look.” What is empty, Red?” The crystal being sent a private telepathic message to 599

R. Leigh the 22 year old, requesting that he not share it at the moment, out of concern for spoiling the festivities. Torvik reluctantly complied and watched as the hordes of happy Asharrans converged closer on the area of the now dry lake which contained the Eimiv. With them were Yavaran and Evan Durant. “You’ll have to think of a new name for this Osharra, “the professor remarked to the Rohulu, “Osharra-kibur is hardly accurate since there is no longer a kibur.” “Deep and true.” Yavaran replied with a smirk, “We will have to take that up with the Eimiv, with Red.” Unknown to the Elder, the thought was received by the crystal being. It delivered a telepathic speech of sorts to the crowd surrounding it, in thankful for what had been accomplished on its behalf. “As the newest type of Asharran, “ the creature thought at the crowd, “I am grateful for what you have done for me. I am overwhelmed to observe the ways of my kind expressed by non crystal life. We discovered first hand that the cosmic winds, the Asha, blow through the universe and not just on Asharra. Now, I see that they carry you along as much as they have done so for us. I humbly request that you forevermore refer to this place as Osharra-Meeru, since it was the birthplace of those who have kept my secret since the beginning.” The joyous crowd nodded in acknowledgment, having now determined the role of the Meeru in Asharran culture. Most of them lingered around the Eimiv until almost yitime, enjoying each other’s company and the surrounding environment with the crystal creature at the center. Many lu’s of various arts pledged to donate their time and effort to create a complex of many Gleestoolias , Asharran rest stops for travelers, since it was expected that many would 600

The Winds of Asharra wish to spend time here. Other Asharrans expressed an interest in collectively constructing a huge circular park around the Eimiv, a place of contemplation and family celebration. No formal Doings would be performed here, just the simple celebratory joys of everyday life including dining and fremming. In short, the boundaries of the Osharra were extended to include not only the Zaya but the site of the Eimiv as well. The most perfect declaration of the Asharran’s acceptance of both was the welcoming of these two locations into their Osharra, their home, now to be called Osharra-Meeru. At last, the crowd dispersed, except for clusters of crystal and zim lu’s, eager to seek Wole’s expert advice on the design for the construction around the Eimiv. “Given this amount of work, “ he snorted to Theyna, “ I might have to give Zoe more responsibility at the shop. It will take considerable effort to oversee construction here.” Theyna smiled at her mate and hugged the blue-black Loak with all of her might. Without realizing it, his own role in the community was being subtly altered, from head tiira-lu or crystal maker to occasional coordinator of public construction. Since Wole had suggested that a mixture of zim and more common transparent crystal be utilized for the public works, rather than clay bricks or stone, it was clearly well within his area of expertise. Gruff or not, the blue bull-like creature admired quality and wanted the effort to reflect the majesty of the primary occupant of the space, the Red crystal creature. “Will you stay here with us?” Oppapalo asked Professor Durant as they headed back to the Zaya with Yavaran and the others. The silver haired elder stared at the professor with a sharp and piercing gaze, appearing menacing but actually 601

R. Leigh just impatient at his pre-determined response. “Of course, “ he replied with a contented smile, “Your mother and I have formed a partnership. As fellow scientists, we have a lot to do here and I have much to learn.” “A partnership?” Yavaran cackled in mock annoyance, “Is that your shallow Earth word for fremming?” “Once I learn your rituals, your Doings, you’ll see what I mean, “ Evan explained, knowing full well that he intended to spend the rest of his life with Yavaran. Oppapalo and Shiara embraced, content that her appearance would not prevent her from re-entering Asharran society. Not only was she not strange by Asharran standards, but now, thanks to Red, the role of the Meeru was clearly established and even highly regarded as a new type of lu or expert, a dobar-lu. She was not an outcast after all. “What about them?” Shiara asked the group, gesturing at Torvik and Ionera who were hovering many feet above them in mid air. “You have to ask, silly nish?” Oppapalo joked to her. “With their wings, they can go anywhere. Somehow, though, I think that they will always return home, to Osharra-Meeru, whenever they feel the need.” “It will take me some time getting accustomed to that new name.” Shiara laughed, as her mate lovingly caressed her nude body. They laughed together, and left the others for a soft space in the golden grass in which to fremm. “What’s next? “ Ionera asked her mate as they lazily soared high above in the purple Asharran sky. “We’ll have to take them into account as well.” Torvik replied, gesturing toward Huff and Paraaz, who were flying close by. “I think they kind of adopted us as family.” “Well, we do all look alike, “ Ionera giggled, flapping her red wings for effect. 602

The Winds of Asharra She kissed Torvik passionately on the lips, an Earth custom which she had made her own before he finally confided something private to her. “In between exploring and fremming, we might have another task, if you are interested.” “What’s that?” she lovingly chirped, eager to go anywhere as long as it was with her mate. “Red shared one last bit of information with me after we removed the lake water. He still wonders where the other pieces of him went.” “The other pieces.” Ionera repeated, recalling the story told to them by the Eimiv. “Somewhere out there on Asharra are several other pieces of the Eimiv. Red hasn’t had contact with them since the crash. It was the reason for the little piece of sadness that you sensed in him.” “Then it is our path to help our friend, “ she said, matter of factly to her mate. “After all, the winds of Asharra blow everywhere and if we allow ourselves to be carried along by them, anything is possible.” “Deep and True” Torvik agreed as he kissed Ionera. He held her body close and, while still embracing her, flapped his blue wings carrying her higher. She allowed the movement of her own wings to be guided by her mate, and was quite surprised to discover that he was leading the aerial dance into a series of gentle loops and spins. “And when did you learn to do that?” she smirked at him, a clear twinkle in her amber eyes. Torvik smiled, touching the tips of her silver horns. “For that, you can thank my teacher, Paraaz.” The winged drager rapidly darted around them, content at being acknowledged for his skill. Far below, outside near the Osharra circle, a small 603

R. Leigh group of adolescents was being taught by an equally young elder. “Rohulu, I have a question, “ one of the nude adolescents asked in a honest and pure voice. “Yes.” Roqueetalu replied. “How do we know that the winds of Asharra are real?” Little Roqueetalu burst into a grin from ear to ear. Without any great explanation, he pointed upwards into the sky. The adolescents squinted against the light from the twin Asharran suns, Yi and Ya but were ultimately able to clearly make out the forms of two people,as well as a winged gerh and a dreegin, all happily flying about against the purple Asharran sky. The answer to their question was clear. For any Asharrans to see the evidence of the power of the mystical winds which bound them all together , they had only to search the skies for the symbolic answer. The little elder giggled and clapped his hands in obvious delight at the simple wisdom. “Kabwaalu!” he laughed. “Kabwaalu!”

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