Page 31 of Synodic

“My name is Takoda. You are safe here with the Wyn. I am a healer. I watched over you as the sun rose.”

I wasn’t sure whether or not to thank him. Aside from Rowen, I’d never seen anyone in my dreams. This was uncharted territory.

Takoda offered up his empty arms in a gesture of goodwill and asked, “May I see something? No harm shall befall you by my hand.”

I was beyond skeptical, but maybe this healer could help figure out what was wrong with me, so I agreed with a terse nod.

Acknowledging my permission, the healer slowly reached inside the netted drapery and hovered his palm a few inches above my chest. He looked much younger than the typical person with entirely white hair; there wasn’t a single wrinkle or crease on his beautiful face.

His eyes closed and his head cocked slightly to the side. “Hmm,” he sounded displeased as his eyebrows pulled together, and he retracted his hand. “You sing of a struggled awakening. Rest here, while I let him know you have roused.”

He turned to leave, but I grabbed his forearm, which was tight, lean, and corded in my hand. I hoped he got the gist that I wanted answers, and I wanted them now. He stopped and turned back at me, his high cheekbones prominent on his long, slender face.

Secretly wondering if this mystery person could be Rowen, I asked, “Let who know?”

“The one who searches for you each night,” he said as if that was answer enough.

“Why is he looking for me?” I asked, hoping I might finally learn something useful.

Rowen mentioned others would come for me and, in so many words, said they would be dangerous, but he had yet to say who or why.

“To make sure another doesn’t find you first,” Takoda said gravely, heaving a sigh deep from his chest.

I swallowed at the lump in my throat. That did not sound good.

Was I in danger? It didn’t feel like it, but it was best to be on my guard anyway.

Without another word, Takoda exited the room through a circular wooden door that rotated around a central shaft. He was so swift and light on his feet that I barely registered the movement, and I sat there for a few startling moments waiting for him to return.

Shaking out of my stupor, I hauled myself out of the bed, refusing to sit idly by and wait for answers to be given to me. I walked determinedly toward the revolving door and followed suit of the healer.

Once outside, I blinked at the dim yellow sun in the sky and marveled at the sight before me: dozens of teardrop-shaped villas surrounded me, sprouting from the ground like a garden of wooden flower buds. Connecting each forest bungalow were stepping stones and spiraling pathways that begged to be walked upon barefoot. Other structures made from fluid branches sat upon stilts or high up in the trees with natural open-air balconies and elevated walkways that dripped with leaves and greenery.

The architecture blended seamlessly with the environment, winding and bending along the natural curves of the earth. It was as if the land hadn’t been disturbed in the slightest as the village melted into the scenery. From the wooden buildings to the evergreen vines crawling up every surface, it all flowed together seamlessly. Even the moss cushioned everything in place, settling the village in a deep comforting sigh.

Tumbled glass sun-catchers and tapestries hung from leafy-covered pergolas, and wind chimes tinkled and swayed with every gust of wind. Tightly woven baskets of all shapes and sizes were stored at the base of every home and seemed to glint with shimmering iridescent thread. Some were haphazardly stacked tall, while others appeared filled with herbs, grains, and vegetables.

Surrounding one side of the village were massive mountains and forest canopies that caressed the top of the sky. On the other, a dark sparkling ocean scalloped the shore, scattered with rock monoliths and vertical sea stacks.

Even though the sun was out, it was subdued and cast the sky in a pale purple glow. But what shocked me most was that the stars were still visible in the daylight. Thousands of celestial lights twinkled like the brightest diamonds against the golden-purple hue. And in the light of day, the glowing plants billowed like translucent fabrics dyed in hues of sea glass.

I had stepped into paradise.

Walking through the village, I passed its inhabitants going about their day, and by now, I’d attracted quite the crowd. I noticed they all had the same beautiful milk-white hair, varying shades of cool under-toned skin, and pointed ears as Takoda.

The villagers were all clad in neutral and earth-toned articles of clothing that blended simple designs for freedom, comfort, and practicality. The attire ranged from fringed and knotted dresses, wrap-around skirts, harem pants, and singlet tops to laced vests, trousers, and scarves with hoods. Almost everyone donned crystal beads around their necks, braided into their hair, or slung around their waists. Many had feathers, flowers, leaves, and shells dangling from various parts of their hair or attire as well.

The Wyn people were free, ethereal, and inherently part of the wild nature in which they lived, but something akin to despair glinted in their eyes.

I didn’t see Takoda anywhere as more and more villagers emerged and gathered around me. Men, women, and children pointed and whispered, and I could feel their dark umber eyes assessing me, questioning me. They all seemed curious of my presence, but they remained at an inquisitive distance.

Embarrassment flushed through me as I became painfully aware of my appearance. My brown hair was pulled into a messy bun, and I was barefoot, wearing essentially only my favorite sweater and a pair of black running shorts.

I continued to search the area, hoping to see someone I knew because this was getting awkward.

Finally, I spotted Takoda. He was much taller than I would have guessed as his long statuesque frame walked towards me with gazelle-like grace, and by his side was an older woman with an ornate walking stick. Despite her cane and age-withered body, she walked with regal authority. The crowd hushed upon her arrival, and I could immediately tell she was highly revered amongst the village.

She wore a plain ankle-length frock that flowed from her thin limbs, but that’s where the simplicity ended. Circling her brow was an exquisite smoky quartz headdress adorned with strands of precious stones. They dangled from one side of her crown to the other, covering her neck and chest in varying lengths of shimmering necklaces. And the sleek obsidian cane by her side stood tall, tipped with an upturned crescent moon.

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