Outcasts of Gideon

Ho'iramai

Houith centered herself on the point of light. She couldn't appreciate its brilliance while seeing it through Dawn's eyes. In that context, she would never understand the nature of the phenomenon. Now in Aitaoperaa, it was still beyond her. She could do little more than marvel at how it warped space like a singularity.

The penetrating nature of the light had little to do with the violation of utaime. For that, another enigma presented itself. It was a device that humans claimed originated with the Atua. Wherever it came from, it was technology beyond the ability of narrow beings. Despite this, humans had been using it to listen to the Atua for centuries.

The dark void manipulated by Leela was yet another riddle. Houith should have remembered this from her travels, an anomaly that warranted study. Encountering it in limited dimensions did not help her appreciate it any better.

Upon her return to the convergence, she recounted all of this to K'rthan and Oonth. "If only these phenomenon were the last mysteries to be solved. Having found the origin of the violation, we are left no means to address it. More importantly, the being Leela has proven that truth lies outside of Aitaoperaa. The Atua have access to only a portion of what is knowable."

A murmur swept through her people. Starting as the slightest reverberation, it became a cry stifled by despair. It was a growing rumble that unsettled their world. The violation of utaime had threatened the Atua. This newest revelation dwarfed that concern, setting in motion something far worse.

Oonth was the first among her party to react. Swallowing herself into a pulsing mass of energy, she succumbed to her sadness. Before Houith could react, Oonth had spread herself like vapor across the cosmos. The loss passed through Houith like a cold knife.

The expiration of his sister threatened to sweep K'rthan away. Expressing his sorrow in a howl, he shook with fury. Houith opened her natua to him, hoping beyond hope to ease his pain.

Around them the news took life after life, the Atua falling to hopelessness. Like dust dispersed by a desert wind, the Atua evaporated before Houith. She was again reminded of the power of imprudent words. Gathering herself, she spread her natua thin across Aitaoperaa. Cloaking the masses from their torment, she summoned the will to speak. "Lo! Hear my words!" Her voice shook the very fabric of Aitaoperaa. "We are Atua, masters of our realm. We need not succumb to fear and anguish."

K'rthan heard her, of that she could be certain. Her proclamation buoyed him, settling his natua. Wrapping himself in the warmth of her thoughts, he redirected his howl to a chant. It crept up from him, rising, stirring. The pulse of his voice built slowly. It penetrated the maelstrom with each beat, every note. It brought calm to those who remained.

Houith took stock of the Atua, their numbers greatly reduced. Choosing her words with care, she sought to reinforce the calm. "We Atua have long embraced the uncertainty of the future. This has not changed. Recently, uncertainty was revealed in utaime. While this presents a challenge, we must remember that uncertainty is the way of things. Those who fear the way of things are lost. Now we must also accept that there are limits to our understanding. That beings exist outside of our perception is a revelation, not a death sentence."

Aitaoperaa became still. Thoughts among the Atua had ceased. All who had not succumbed to despair awaited deliverance. Houith breathed in the stillness, opening her natua to all. "We must find ways to live with these facts, these realizations, for they have always been true. It is only our awareness of them that is new."

A voice emerged from the mass, small and tenuous. It rose through the minds of those who waited, those who stood with Houith against the onslaught. "Lead us, great wanderer. Guide us from this darkness."

In Houith's mind, a singular point formed. Revealed to her were many things she had not considered. Among these were weaknesses in her race. Why hadn't she seen them before? How had they escaped her?

As a wanderer, she stood as one among her people. She alone had explored the furthest reaches of known existence. Their unwillingness to experience wonder was a sign she'd overlooked. It wasn't hidden to her, but it also failed to raise a concern. She now realized that they sought certainty, comfort, safety. She could give them none of these things.

Houith recalled her exchange with K'rthan. Do you remember when we spoke of the form and the formless? she thought.

K'rthan was listening, as he always had been. Ho'iramai, we return to the beginning, he thought in response. Yes, Houith, we discussed how the one precedes the many. Only in the one is there form. Beyond that is the formless, and with it certainty is at best an illusion.

"Hear these words of K'rthan," she said aloud, knowing that the Atua heard her thoughts as well. "Be reminded of the litany. Natuani'a'eravrahi. The one precedes the many. Form precedes formlessness."

She paused, knowing the words would linger. Looking into the natua of all that stood by, she communed with the mass of her people, these few that persisted.

"Together we are the Atua," she continued. "Collectively, we are capable of great things. Those things are beyond our reach if we lose ourselves, our natua. Each of you individually represents potential. Without this, in each of us, we can do little together. I can guide you, as you wish, but you cannot simply follow. Each of you must learn to lead at least yourselves if we hope to survive these challenges."

It was a lesson she'd learned along her travels. It had been woven in each tale she told, each memory she recounted. Despite this, it may have been lost on many of her people. She knew K'rthan and his sister had understood. Now they all must, if they wanted to navigate the uncertain waters ahead.

She turned her mind to K'rthan. "In these humans we may find a resilience we Atua lack. In their limitations, we may find a future."