A Hand-Woven Universe 57 57. How Long...?

The smooth walls let Noone easily shimmy down towards the cavern he created below. It was slower progress than the ascent leaving time for Noone to realize just how far up he had been dragged. The only saving grace was that it never became too wide or too narrow for him to slip down.

As the silence and darkness enveloped him, his thoughts went back to the things he experienced within the pod.

The memories which flooded his mind were foreign and completely beyond his understanding. Noone had a very narrow view of the world, mainly consisting of the educational rites passed down through the eternity. When he thought back to the world he had seen within the memories of the plant-like existence, it left a profound impact on his conscious. Suddenly the world was so much larger than he had ever thought.

How large? He wasn't sure.

It was spectacular. But as far as Noone knew, that may just be what the calamitous and desolate world above once looked like. Noone imagined what must have become of the tree after the calamity which sent Tapestry into the caverns under the protection of the Ancestor.

And then there was the stranger in the memory… Although the feeling and images were becoming hazy the longer Noone was free from the plant, he remembered seeing the ancestor in the dream. She was a being of shocking power… which was to be expected. But she also looked nothing like the people of Tapestry.

The Ancestor had always existed as more of an ethereal concept to the descendants of Tapestry. Maybe within the first few generations - when the memory was still fresh - it was not like that. But now, when referring to The Ancestor people tend to think of her as a force of nature, or the will of the gods. A being that existed outside of physical understanding.

Noone expected it was because of the common heritage, but he knew for certain the woman he saw was indeed the ancestor.

Her figure and flesh were so foreign. Her skin was not stone-like and had no lines of power etched into the flesh. She was extremely pale white, like unblemished marble, and her hair floated long down her back like a waterfall of black ink. The women of tapestry all had hair strongly influenced by their attunements, to see simple black hair was unheard of.

Was she different from us in the beginning? Or did we change and become like this over time? I can't wait to talk to Liter. Noone pondered over things as he braced himself in the tunnel – preventing himself from dropping too quickly. He felt that he should be reaching the bottom soon but could not see any light underneath him. Either it was night, or the tunnel underneath had collapsed at some point. Noone dearly hoped it was not the latter.

The stone became courser under Noone's grip and the changing terrain caused the squeeze to become a bit tighter. Noone was not alarmed though, spending so much time growing up underground - the last thing he was afraid of was tight spaces. He pressed on but his thoughts were still focused on his experience.

Noone had no chance to really exam his physical body, but he couldn't help but think about the form he had seen when his awareness was split from his mind. Everything that wasn't clearly of the circulatory system looked to be very similar to the meridian lines and power-lines that course through the bodies of the attuned. Although every design is unique, there were similarities across everyone.

Noone had never had these runic symbols on his flesh. Everyone in tapestry wore their power-lines like adornments, decorating their flesh like shining symbols of their belonging to the same heritage. He has heard it described by elders as the paths which energy flows through them. Of course, Noone had never been attuned since the day he was born and had no power-lines to speak of. His flesh was the dark gray of stone, through and through.
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When freeing himself from the plant, Noone was a little disappointed at how little he seemed to change. Then he would quickly remember that he was lucky to be still be alive, and any disappointment quickly dissipated. Yet, the thought of seeing his body adorned with lines of power when within the plant had sparked the desire for them that he had not felt in years.

It's hard to accept being different, when everything around you constantly reminds you of it.

Noone felt a slight breeze come from underneath him. Suddenly, his nose and lungs which had breathed nothing but stale air for who knows how long, were filled with the salty spray of the outside. Like a shot of adrenaline, Noone began to move quicker; pushing out all thoughts that weren't necessary for his descent.

After only a few minutes Noone fell through the ceiling of a long-unused cave. He instinctually faced the direction of the horizon, the subtle brush of wind bouncing from his body. Noone knelt and brushed the floor with his hand until a small stone bounced off his fingertips. There was a small smile on his lips.

He picked up the stone gently in his palm, enjoying the smooth sensation of the sun-stone. It was the same sun-stone which had led him to catch the attention of the plant in the first place.

After hesitating for a moment - remembering the dead husk of the plant above - Noone pumped life-force into the stone triggering its activation. It came extremely easy, and there was a blinding flash of light before the sun stone dimmed to its usual level of power.

Noone stared at the stone, wondering what the strange initial flash had been. He shook his head. He would have time to find out later. Using the light to locate his pick, he began walking briskly towards the front of the cave. Soon, shadows of his pack were cast onto the cave wall, leaning against it just as he had left it from before.

Relief overcame him, making the rest of the way up the cliff would be a nightmare without his tools and supplies. He already wasted time, he could only imagine what Elder Azelle and Adria would say on his return.

Next to his pack, there was a tarp which was noticeably smaller than he remembered. Unwrapping it quickly, Noone saw that the cured remains of the bird he had fought during the fall were now barely anything more than the bones, having degraded and rotted over time despite being cured.

His heart thrummed - desperately sending blood coursing through his mind.

"How long has it been…?"

Chapter end