Wyt Azul

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Well, here's hoping they are right- it might just be the only thing to save me if I cannot fix what I have done, or to put it more correctly, the only thing to offer some respite until I fix what I have done because I must.

I do believe with more certainty now that the beings of any realm are capable of a misstep. Once set down firmly with good intentions and finding momentum in the blinding only right of those intentions, that single step becomes a treacherous pathway to unimagined destinations.

I am sitting now in the middle of that unimagined, and surely, disastrous, destination- surrounded with screams of every sort- the guttural, the piercing, and the plaintive- screams filled out with cries and whimpers, moans and trickles of exhaustion. I am horrified to know my part in creating this soundscape.

My name is Elosha and I am part of the Govoran strand, existing in the Restoya realm. We Govoran are known throughout the Taz, that part of the universe cognizant of one another and at most times, working together, as communicators. We have over the milennia acquired knowledge of the languages used throughout the Taz and beyond, including not only a good number of the rebel realms but also those simply ignorant of the countless strands existing in the universe. We have several libraries housing the best works of any strand known to us, especially those relating to, even if unknowingly, the Zavest.

I work with a team. Nahli is an Ohyb, and as such, skilled in folding; and Jick, being an unusual mix of Koguma and Chinja, is both a gatherer and a synth. Together, we travelled the universe and sought out expressions of experience and knowledge, and in rare cases (simply because most strands assimilate experiences quickly), an identifiable stimulus that seemed to be affecting the Zavest in ways the Taz could not understand.

During our last project, we were tasked with going to the Wyt Azul, a planet in the farthest arm of the Milky Way. The Taz had visited this planet only twice before- many millenia earlier when it was a cold planet, seeming to be in some sort of regenerative stage and again, a mere couple millenium ago. At that time it was much warmer and had a countless number of strand existing, for the most part together, but in the most primitive of ways known to the Taz- that of a feeding chain. It was determined then to be infantile and in need of builders. The builders were not there long and little attention has been paid to Wyt Azul until recently. The swirls common to the surrounding atmosphere of a primitive planet have suddenly begun to change colors and become denser there. They increasingly reach out into space and are able to retain themselves in travelling at least through their own galaxy. There have been several rebel realms reported to now have swirls that are growing and changing colors, and even a nearby realm of the Taz has begun to emanate a violet hue.

Nahli folded us easily to a hover above Wyt Azul and then began the process of folding the time passed over the last five hundred years there. It lay piled in front of us in accordian pleats that Nahle then unfolded. I listened carefully as Jick picked and gathered experiences. There were a few strands, the whale, some of the birds, and the bees, that had a knowing connection to the Zavest; however, we decided quickly to concentrate on the human strand, noting that it had an increasing, and most often adverse, effect on the other strands. I became particularly struck with, not only the number of languages the humans used, but the fact that music seemed to be the only universal language present. This was obviously a strand unable to come together even in the necessity to communicate. It was also obvious that the strand was held hostage to emotion, especially those relating to pain, fear and anger. As a Govoran, emotion is a presence I can access only in limited ways, and often times, only in a cerebral fashion. This is true with most of the strands in the Taz, yet I and Jick and Nahli were, for the first time we had experienced in our added ten millenium plus years of existence, springing water from our beings. We were, as suddenly, laaughing, and in an instant made the decision that we must not only learn how this related to the Zavest, but that our strand had to share in learning and knowing these experiences. At that time, it seemed the greatest good we could to do.

Well, as I said, missteps set firmly down with good intentions.... We unfolded chosen bits of sound and experience before our respective strands. The water was not followed with laughter, rather with, screams, and then more screams as the sounds of such could only spur on more. Nahli, Jick and I are headed back to Wyt Azul with a much larger team, filled out with shifters, explorers, healers and the best of the Zavest scholars. I will fix what I have done.