Dio - Friends (1)

Despite the pain pulling through his back, Dio felt healthy and well. He knelt on fresh soil beside a row of rye, nearly ready for harvest. Des had patiently shown him how to cut the grain and detach the ears using sharpened flint and precise strikes. It was hard work, and Dio’s hand ached from the repeated blows with the jagged, fist-sized stone. His arm had started to feel heavy, and exhaustion was slowly setting in. Des had explained that these aches would pass, either because Dio would get used to the work or because his technique would improve.

"You have time, Dio. Take it. We produce enough. And even if not, it’s not the end of the Dream," said the thoughtful old man.

"It’s about the work itself, isn’t it?" Dio panted, striking again at a stalk that refused to be cut.

"Yes. That’s the mindset most people have around these parts. And pull the stalks tight! It works better that way," Des advised.

Dio groaned and straightened the stubborn stalk. His sweaty hand stung as he struck again, and this time he managed to cut through the stem.

"Thanks for the tip, Des," he said and let himself fall to the ground, exhausted.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his dirty hand, which only rubbed more dirt into his eyes.

"No problem. I’m happy to help. This work is simple... you can lose yourself in it, you know?" Des mused.

Dio nodded. Despite the effort, he felt alive, and now understood why the people here seemed so relaxed and friendly. Still, thoughts stirred in the back of his mind, returning with the steady rhythm of the fieldwork. He thought of Ray, who now felt distant, barely perceptible.

Has she already started training? Has she begun to find herself? How much time has passed since we last met? It’s impossible to say...

As he grabbed the next stalks and pulled them tight, Dio wondered what other wonders might be flickering out there in the Dream. He could hardly wait to one day set off with Ray to explore its beauties. Just the two of them. A part of him wanted to leave right now. Yet a greater part knew he had to wait.

He had made a promise.

"Say, what kind of work do you like best, Des?" Dio asked absently as he kept cutting stalks.

Des furrowed his brow in thought.

"I like collecting berries and seeds. I probably would’ve said fieldwork once, though ever since I started tending my garden... it’s exciting to see what new plants I can grow."

"How’s your garden going?"

"Oh, quite well. I don’t have a green thumb. Plenty of things wither. Still, I’ve managed to grow a few Kadalion seedlings, and they’re thriving. Just now breaking through the soil and already with leaves..."

Dio paused. "That was fast!"

Des stroked his beard again. "Yes, you’re right. Sometimes things grow very quickly when you’re not looking. Other times they don’t grow at all. I always give them enough water, so it’s probably not that..."

Strange. I wonder if... Dio began to think, when a cheerful shout interrupted him.

Ogan approached with one of the stretchers made of branches and vines. The muscular man with the shaggy black mane dragged the primitive frame across the ground, already piled with bundles of rye. Des had tied up some of Dio’s cut grain and tossed the bundle onto the stretcher.

"Thanks, Des! Very nice! A good harvest for your first day, Dio! Not efficient, but diligent. I like that!" Ogan laughed.

"Well, it’s very relaxing. Maybe exactly because it’s so exhausting. Kind of crazy, right?" Dio smiled.

Ogan replied with a grin. "Indeed. Oli is doing very well too! He’s storing the harvest and looking after the animals. You two are thriving! I have to say, excellent job."

Then his smile faded, and he looked a little sad.

"I hope you stay. Not many leave, and when someone sets off to explore the Dream, it’s always a sad moment. They never return," he said, gazing toward the forest’s edge.

Dio bit his lip.

Ogan’s words tugged at his thoughts. Oh, how he longed to run across that border and find out what lay beyond.

More beautiful clearings and graceful animals...?

Yet he had to wait.

He wanted to wait. Promised to wait...

And it was nice, being among such kindhearted people, even if they sometimes seemed a little distant.

"Don’t worry. The Dream may be calling to me, but I’m waiting here for someone," Dio assured him, though this time he had to force a smile.

"Ah, you’re waiting? For whom?" Ogan asked, leaning forward.

"Ray," Des laughed. "His friend. Or his great love? At least that’s how he talks about her. They’re connected."

Dio felt his face flush. He had to think of her. Her gentle smile, her beautiful eyes, her slightly tousled golden hair. Her warm hand in his. Her slender red lips that...

"She’s not... I don’t know what we are to each other!" he said evasively.

Des patted his shoulder. "Sure you don’t. Dio, how long have we known each other? Three meditations? And I already know her name just as well as yours!"

Now Dio felt truly embarrassed. He tried to make himself smaller, unsure where to look, and finally settled on his fingernails, where dark dirt had collected. Des patted his shoulder again.

"Hey, Dio, don’t feel awkward. It’s wonderful to have someone you’re connected to. It’s up to you to find out what that bond means. A home? Closeness, warmth? Affection? Love? Maybe all of that. I’ve heard, and these are rumors, maybe from Elga when she rested here during her pilgrimage, that connections can manifest in many ways. I’ve no idea what it really feels like. I think I prefer being alone. Most stories I’ve heard about bonds are beautiful."

"Mostly...?" asked Dio.

Ogan shot Des a quick, warning look and shook his head slightly.

"What do you mean by that, Des?" Dio pressed.

Des fell silent and looked away.

"Nothing, Dio. It’s... never easy to be separated from someone you’re connected to. There was once someone who felt her other half out there in the Dream. She grew sadder and sadder, always talking about the pain. Eventually, she left to find her other half. She never came back. Nobody does. That is why... I hope you’ll stay a while. You bring more life into this place," Ogan said.

Dio blinked at him. "More life?"

"Yes! I’ve only seen you twice, but I feel more energized whenever we talk!" Ogan winked.

"Yes, he’s usually very withdrawn," Des added.

Dio frowned.

"Just like you, old man!" Ogan grinned.

"I only look old! You’ve been here almost as long as I have! Arriving a bit younger doesn’t mean you have to rub it in," Des grumbled.

"That still means you’re older than me. Strength-wise, though, we’re probably even."

Dio didn’t know where to begin.

"You two... that wasn’t serious, was it?"

"Oh, yes, it was! Don’t underestimate Des. I think everyone here has roughly the same strength and endurance. No one is weak... and Des, he is really strong!" Ogan considered.

"You have way more muscle!" Dio exclaimed.

"Thanks! Yet here, that’s not so important. You can’t judge strength by appearance. You have to see someone in action!" Ogan flexed proudly.

Dio was already lost in thought.

Could there be other standards for strength and endurance? Something beyond appearances? Lucidity, maybe? Yet Ray wasn’t stronger than me...

"The Dream is strange," Dio muttered.

The other two burst into laughter, and it calmed him down a bit.

"There’s always something new to discover, even here!" Des said.

"True. Even if no great Lucidity lies within us," Dio agreed.

He was glad to speak about it with them. Still, he felt a mote of sadness because he’d seen nothing in the crystal.

"Most discoveries are within the Dream itself. Remembering something new... very few manage that," Ogan said, waving dismissively.

Dio thought of Ray again.

"She managed it. She saw a circle of light. She really is something special. Unlike me, who didn’t even..." he whispered, but the words stuck in his throat.

"Nonsense! Don’t let that discourage you," Des said.

Ogan stared at the ground.

"You okay?" Dio asked.

Ogan seemed not to hear him anymore.

"A circle? She saw a circle? That’s... wild. What did it look like?" he asked.

"Well, like... a circle," Dio said, drawing one in the dirt with a stick. "Glowing."

"Hm. That seems familiar..." Ogan murmured.

"You’ve never seen one?" Dio asked.

"No," Ogan said flatly.

Dio gave a hollow laugh. "You’re kidding?"

"No. I mean, I’ve seen round things, I guess. Something that pure? No. Now I remember it, though. I’d forgotten, and now I remember. A simple circle..."

Ogan laughed, though it sounded unsure.

"What do you remember? What’s the circle even for? Ray brought it back, sure, but does it do anything?" Dio wondered.

"No idea. Maybe... I don’t know. I have to go," Ogan said suddenly and turned, nearly forgetting his bundles of rye. "We can talk more after work, excuse me."

"Shame," said Des, who had listened closely.

"Yeah. The rye won’t cut itself," Dio said.

With that, Ogan slipped away, whistling a crooked tune.

"He’s really gotten more... alive since you arrived," Des suddenly said.

"Maybe. Though I’m sure it’s not because of me. I haven’t done anything," Dio said, waving it off.

He turned back to the stalks, yet again and again, his gaze drifted to the symbol he’d drawn in the dirt.

Is it more than a sign of Light? Why has Ray seen it? Is there another meaning?

Soon he realized he was getting distracted, and the Dream around him seemed to fade.

It was time to meditate, to regain his strength and ease the lingering pain.

He said goodbye to Des, who kept working cheerfully, and made his way back to the tree tents. His bones ached, and sweat clung to his green linen shirt. His breath came unevenly, yet he still felt good. Fulfilled. He slipped into his new home and sat down to meditate.

His thoughts drifted into stillness.