Around her, a myriad of glowing orbs blink into being. Thousands. Millions. Unimaginable numbers. A sphere for every living being: every bird, every person, all beasts, all fish, every individual tortoise, every scorpion and blood-sucking leech, all bats, all beetles, all lice and trees, all herbs, all grasses, every individual plant. The life-light of every living being here connected according to contact and association, and each formed to a web. The grasses to deer, the deer to the hunters, the hunters to wives, the wives to the herbs and the berries they gather, the herbs and the berries to the clans for sharing. Unimaginable, the numbers of webs within webs within this Otherworld Web. But familiar, for many times she has entered there.
Above her aches Sky Man’s domain. Through its glittering ceiling, she glimpses a higher dimension, that of the divines. She sees them—she swears that she does—traversing the night sky, sees them as colours ever changing, sees them as untrammelled light. Intense, as fierce as the sun. Soft as the whisper of wind-stirred grasses. Strident as the high glare of summer. Delicate as rippling waters. She has no names for these colours; colours she never has seen beyond this Web.
And the sound of them! Songs without voices—beyond the lark, beyond the spring-warbler, beyond the night-triller: carolling choruses exalting their being. Beyond sweet, beyond melodic.
‘The truth of them?’ she said to the brothers whose hide-and-bone dome she shared. ‘Beyond our imagining: ethereal colours, joyous singing.’
An excerpt from Asaric Axis (Book 2 Asaric Tales) prompted by Weekend Writing Prompt #48 (See Sammi Cox)