To Walk Through a Dream Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven With Wavering Footsteps Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Stone Song Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three A Tale of Winter Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Destiny Inescapable Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Epilogue The Cycle's Continuing Beginnings Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Two Spirits Akin

StoneSong Chapter Three Marya turned to see who had a hold of her, but there was no one there. Then she saw the DreamWalker at the end of the street, watching her. Limping, Rayven approached the girl cautiously, as if she were a deer that might start and leap away. After her initial confusion, Marya began to sense the DreamWalker's intent and grew angry, but held her temper in check as much as she could, seeing as this was her elder. "I'm leaving." There was no verbal response, but the DreamWalker came before her and stopped. They gazed levelly at each other in a silent, nearly subconscious battle of wills. Rayven stepped back slightly, not in retreat, but rather luring the girl forward. "I can't stay here. I can't stay anywhere. I don't belong." "Why?" Marya couldn't tell if it had been spoken aloud, or was simply in her mind. "I don't belong here. I'm...I need something. I'm...always going somewhere..." She wasn't certain where the words came from, yet it was her own voice, her own thoughts. She was saying what had always been inside her but she had never intellectualized it, always keeping it hidden from herself. "I know I'm meant for something. Something more. I can't do anything, I have no purpose in life. Everyone here dances, or sings, or tells stories. It just emphasizes the fact that I have no place. I just wander a little this ways and a little there, I know some healing, but not enoughto be a healer, I can sing but only what's already been heard, same with stories, I have nothing that's my own, I have nothing I can contribute and it's not as if I haven't tried!!! I'm too clumsy to be a dancer and I sew badly my poetry is awful. I'm fantastic with horses but there's really no market for that, I only know a few simple spells mamere taught me, and I do have prophetic visions but I can't control them, or even interpret them until it's already happened! I know there must be something I'm meant for and I'm always looking and this place only makes me aware I need to keep searching and -- oh." She stopped. "It's here, isn't it," she said, her anger dissipated as they stood in the graveyard. Rayven nodded. "Wise child." "I can feel it now. I was so distracted before," Marya rambled on quietly as together the entered the catacombs, but the tunnels Marya led them down were not those she knew. "The city is just so big, so intense, that I lost track of the tune I was searching for, and I was...am so afraid of losing myself too." Rayven followed her patiently, a silent but comforting listener. Even she was unsure of what the girl was leading them to, all she knew was that it was right. Marya related the story of her soul in a calm, somewhat detached voice as she led them through first long-unused tunnels, then even deeper into passageways untouched by man, and completely dark. She told a tale of always roaming, searching, unable to stay in any one place or set herself to any one task because there was some other place, some other destiny she was meant for. Eventually her voice wound down and they saw they had reached their destination. ~ The stone was nearly as enormous as the great round window of the cathedral of Notre Dame, and gave off a faint blue light by which they could see. At first glance it was the brown and gray of ordinary rock, only smooth as if it had been worn on all sides from the ocean's tides. But as one moved, opalescent facets within it were revealed, shifting colours constantly. The winding patterns of energy it sent out were half music and half light, it rang throughout the cavernous space, making every part of their bodies vibrate. "I am here now. This is where I am meant to be." Marya said, and reached out to touch the surface of the stone. When her hand came into contact with the smooth surface, Rayven saw the light energy spread to emanate from Marya as well as the stone. Then it began to sing through the girl. "These are the patterns that move throughout the world: We are here, foci of power and energy, near to the surface in an ever changing number of places. I have been here forever, I will be here forever, singing the song of the forces of the earth. Always and ever have humans been drawn to us, building their lives around and above us until with so many lives our forces are woven. But man has turned away, man has forgotten us, as man is the only essence on earth capable of separating themselves so. But although they separate their minds from us, still are their souls interwoven, and as each new life joins the city they have built, so to does their soul join my pattern. We are incapable of turning away from man. You will see this emerging in many places throughout the world. The larger the point of energy, the faster more men will be drawn to it, and the more souls will be interwoven, the more complex the pattern's weaving in that point will become. Do not be deceived thoughlittle one, for even in such a seeming imbalance all things remain balanced, this you may someday learn. But the life's pattern can also be dangerous, for we are linked, man and I. They draw their energy from me, that their city may become stronger, but the energy they draw from me is what I receive from them. If the people are kind and gentle, so will be the energy I emanate. But now there is much suffering and pain caused by man upon man in the city above me, and so is the energy they receive from me more of the same. This is the balance: There must be one to reshape the energy I receive before it is returned to the world above for the sake of a balance. For this you have been called." Marya released herself from the stone's song. The change was dizzying: Rayven was no longer a tall, beautiful shape of iridescent blue light, but an old human woman with a limp again. She could only faintly sense the city above her as a conglomeration again, though while inside the soul of the stone she had seen each and every person there simultaneously, and known how the patterns of their lives were all woven together. She found herself nothing but a young girl again, and once again very much afraid of the harsh, untrustworthy faces of the city. But in that glimpse she knew where she belonged,and had fallen in love with the stone. With body, mind, and soul, she addressed the stone with a certain need for a formal ceremony of some sort. "I accept the duty of becoming your guardian." The stone sang to her again, inside of her. "Understand, little one, that I myself am indifferent. I do not call for your guardianship out of a want for Good, but out of a need for balance. Your guardianship will bind you with me, whom you love, and thusly, with the humans you fear. But I will teach you much, little one, and I will love you, though I cannot say that I will protect you from harm." "I understand. I am ready." Far above them the thunder rumbled as the storm rolled away. Marya turned to the DreamWalker "You have to go now, don't you." Rayven nodded gently. "Thank you. For guiding me, I mean." "I did not guide you, you did that for yourself. I merely made you aware of your soul's thoughts, and I am deeply honored to have been witness to such a passage. You will do well." She turned to go. "DreamWalker!" She turned back at Marya's voice. "I, um, hope you find what you're searching for." "If it is in the pattern of the world for me to do so, then I will." She smiled and left Marya alone with the stone's song to follow her own path once more. ~ There was a low rumble of thunder, as of a great wheel turning, or an enormous stone shifting, but the citizens of Paris, at home in their beds, or on the streets curled up in rags, or in the dungeons with the rats, and the gypsies in the court of Miracles, all slept peacefully on, completely unawares of the ceaseless pattern. Chapter One of A Tale of Winter