Guide Me Skyward

You could’ve heard the sound of a butterfly’s wings with how silent I got; the weather on Oeuvre was so unnaturally still that not even the ‘grass’ stirred as we sat there. No breeze to buffer my ears or give me an excuse to brush the hair nervously from my forehead. (Maybe it was because we were in a courtyard, I wasn’t sure.)

The inhaled breath I took was shaky and sounded fragile to my own ears but I didn’t feel any embarrassment for it -there was too much to process for that- and if they had noticed, they didn’t comment on it.

“Okay… tell me more.”

I didn’t know what else to say, all I could do was gesture weakly for the Auspice to continue. Maybe a little more overload would help me process all this information better; probably not but why not try?

“You will not have the jurisdiction to complete any Transference until you are fully qualified to do so, take comfort in knowing that you will be ready when the time comes.”

I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to make a decision that could potentially change someone else’s life but I didn’t argue, only nodding in response and trying my best to listen when they continued.

“Disregarding the utilitarian Heralds such as myself, there is hardly any collaboration between others while on task– although there have been rare cases.”

Maybe sensing my overloaded state of mind, they ventured toward a change in topic as they gauged my reaction and general state of being.

“...It’s not essential for you to know the details concerning the other Heralds right at this very moment; for example, you may desire to begin familiarizing yourself with your personal space instead. Does that interest you?”

A bed and some food sounded amazing right about then; a nap sounded even better. I eagerly agreed.

“Yes please.”

“Very well.”

They stood, swiping their bottle up in a smooth, flawless motion that I hadn’t the hope to replicate though I did try, only succeeded in miscalculating the distance and swatting my hand right over the bottle; my fingers flailing through thin air before I just bent down and grabbed it. Quickly, in the hopes they hadn’t caught my blunder.

I had a hunch they’d seen going by their half amused, half judgmental expression, the Auspice simply deciding to forgo comment which I was absolutely grateful for.

They moved to the center of the courtyard, the outer area as a whole appearing rectangular with seemingly no limits in length. The center was clear of any benches, vending machines, or decorative outdoor ornaments like flowering plants, trees, and leafy ground cover.

Once again, I’d like to say that these were Oeuvre plants, almost familiar but not quite; like a relative you hadn’t seen since you were a child, you could squint at them and maybe a name would pop into your head but it was just as likely that you might never remember.

The Auspice took a step away from me, completing a split-second perimeter check to make sure there was no one in our close proximity -either exiting from the building or flying in- before simply manifesting a pair of the most beautiful wings I’d ever seen.

I was, once again, utterly speechless.

“You-”

“Your turn.”

To my credit, I was incredibly distracted by the way Jun’s newly ‘conjured from nowhere’ wings shifted and flexed as they talked, shimmering tawny feathers glistening like water under the sun bright moon. (Again, this was the closest approximation I could think of, I didn’t know how to explain something so distinctly not of Earth but uncannily close.)

“My turn?!”

They nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind their ear before gesturing for me to do whatever they were gesturing for. Probably something like manifest my own wings or something equally as easy, you know how it is.

“How do I…”

I motioned vaguely to the two large feathery wings on their back, the mild color perfectly matching their lengthy pale hair which they had fastened behind their neck so it didn’t disrupt their vision while walking and -apparently- flying.

“Manifestation and intent is a large part of any world that is based in non-tangibility. To begin, think about what you are trying to Manifest; concentrate on what you imagine wings would feel like and then consider what you would do with those wings. How heavy they would be and what would they feel like against your back. Try to find a way to realistically relate those thoughts to yourself.”

They prompted easily, gaze leveled evenly on mine as I complied obediently and closed my eyes to better visualize their words; could concentrate as they had said.

If I had wings… the first thing I’d do is stretch them wide as they could go. I’d stretch them up high so that light could bounce off each individual feather, they’d be warmed from the sunlight and then I’d fly with them. I’d have to lain forward to account for the extra weight but then I’d push off the ground and-

If sensations could hybrid into something new, I’d say this was a feeling somewhere between being pricked by a needle and an urgent hot cold itch in your nerves.

It happened between my shoulder blades, a icy burning sort of prickling that caused my breath to come in deep and slow so I could gather my bearings; eyes opening carefully and looking behind me to see-

Wings.

Big, black wings that shined like an ink spill stretching out from my back; they perfectly complemented the natural color of my hair.

There was an approving noise to my right, an affirming sort of hum you would immediately pair with the visual of an old man begrudgingly bestowing a compliment to their ward or apprentice.

“Good, it’s common for new arrivals to have some difficulty with visualization; I’d say your time was closer to exemplary.”

I raised a brow, grinning at their blurry figure in my peripherals since I couldn’t quite manage to tear my eyes away from my wings -I had wings- quite yet.

“Hm, that sounded an awful lot like a compliment.”

“...perhaps, it was a fact directed at no one in particular.”

“But it was a fact about me.”

“Yes, it was.”

That made me smile even more and the Auspice returned it with a small one of their own, tawny wings spreading to their fullest extent as they reached their hand out for me to take.

“Are you ready?”

I was so completely ready, who knew that I’d ever get the chance to fly.

“Absolutely ready.”

I eagerly took their hand… and we flew.

I can’t explain what it felt like, the wings on my back carried me so easily skyward like they’d always been a part of me.

If freedom and exhilaration combined into something that felt uniquely like comfort and total self assurance, that’s the word I would’ve used to describe what I felt like that first time I looked at Oeuvre from above through powdery violet clouds. Weightless and exhilarated enough I almost had to shout to alleviate the pressure.

With Jun as my guide, there was no question that I’d lose my balance or fly off course as the feathers on my wings caught the breeze I had been questioning the absence of before and carried us up so we soared ever higher.

“There’s nothing like this feeling… this is the closest thing to simple perfection.”

The honesty in Jun’s words surprised me, a startled and partially overwhelmed laugh falling past my lips as I squeezed their hand in a moment of pure excitement; nodding vehemently in fervent agreement to their words before shaking my head again just to feel the wind in my hair.

I was highly inclined to agree with them given how intoxicatingly good flying felt.

“Lean with me, our destination is there.”

Their free hand gestured in front of us, a dense gathering of clouds obstructed my view as clinging mist forced me to blink to clear my vision; we had already passed through by the time I opened my eyes.

We had somehow entered another endlessly large building even though we had been flying not even a second ago, an impressively large door standing tall behind our backs as if we had just stepped through it.

“How…”

“Oeuvre exists in a place between physical worlds,” Jun reminded patiently, “space does not act as you are familiar with even though it may appear as such.”

That did make sense, even if it was a hard concept to swallow as my mind puzzled how such an enormous building could seem to just be floating in the air like this; or maybe it wasn’t floating at all, maybe those clouds had somehow transported us somewhere else.

But what was the point of flying, then? I was confused.

“I’m sure you have questions.”

“Am I projecting my thoughts too loud?”

“Everyone has questions.”

I felt some heat suffuse across my cheeks as I lifted my shoulders in response, trying to peer down one of the seemingly endless hallways lined with stone I presumed to be marble. They were comfortably lit and identically endless.

The Auspice led me to a surprisingly plain room considering the borderline ostentatious columns and impossibly shiny tile floors we had traversed through, tall ceilings glittering with what I thought to be crystal light fixtures illuminating the halls and entryways– of which there were multiple, apparently.

“To promote familiarity and comfort, each room is entirely customizable to the occupant’s desires. The space is, of course, already tastefully decorated should the Herald elect not to customize, but I have found that most do over the course of their time spent in Oeuvre.”

The room contained all that you would expect it to: A bed, a wardrobe of some sort that folded seamlessly into the walls when the doors were shut, a nightstand, a couch, standing lamps, the works. A bewilderingly seamless blend between old castle classic and futuristic starship all colored in warm matted greys and white with an accent of black or gold. You’d think it wouldn’t work, but it did.

Most remarkably, the room smelled like nothing, neither reminiscently stale disinfectant or synthetically warmed air I knew was somehow being funneled into the room since the ambient temperature was perfectly comfortable. It was a little unsettling to be in a scentless room and, in the back of my mind, I was faintly concerned what a trip to the bathroom might do to the balance of air with nothing to offset anything.

"As I was saying, I'm sure you have questions and, as I am your Guide, this is how you will contact me.”

A bracelet sort of thing was produced from somewhere and the Auspice proffered it out in their outstretched palm before gesturing for me to accept it, which I did.

“This is a standard Oeuvre communication device.”

It was cool to the touch and satisfyingly smooth between my fingers. I was inclined to believe it was made of some sort of metal and decided it was akin to polished steel but Oeuvre’s version; very close but somehow entirely different if the almost warming quality told me anything the longer I spun it between my fingers.

“Is that a gem in the middle?”

“Polished Argon, there are high concentrations of this ore embedded throughout Oeuvre.”

I nodded, looping the band around my wrist and rotating my hand slowly to watch the light glint off both stone and metal.

“How can this help us communicate?”

It was a glorified bracelet -actually, it was just a bracelet- with not even a screen or any kind of visible microphone to talk into; I was incredibly doubtful but didn’t voice my suspicions. Although things seemed familiar, I was constantly reminded that I knew nothing.

“The alloy surrounding the Argon absorbs and magnifies the body’s natural electrical current. Then, by magnetization, we are able to communicate with our desired receiver via vibration. For example:”

The bracelet on my wrist started to vibrate, not harsh enough so it hurt but definitely enough to pull my attention from whatever I might have been doing.

“I’m Hailing you.”

The flowy sleeve of their robe was pushed back to reveal an identical band of their own.

“To accept the hailing…”

They produced another device that I recognized as something like a wireless earpiece, passing it over the bracelet on my wrist before setting it into my hand; the bracelet stopped vibrating immediately.

“The vibrations of my words will now travel from my ear piece to the closest sample of Argon which will echo the vibrations to your device. Then, they will be translated into the preferred language of the user in less than half a moment, there is minor -if any- delay between spoken word and receiver. All of our communication items have Argon as a base for this reason, it is a highly receptive resource.”

They seemed decidedly smug at my impressed and thoroughly gobsmacked expression, dipping their head briefly as an end to our conversation before turning on their heels and departing towards the door.

“Settle in, rest, and replenish your hunger if you are in need; your formal training begins immediately after you’ve settled. Hail me when you are prepared to continue.”

And I just stood there and marveled at everything for a little bit as the last echoes of their words died away to nothing.

Could you blame me?