Recombinant Bridgehead

Blossoming

Kiri skipped down the petal-covered lane under swaying boughs beginning to flower and up the spiralling roots into an elevated cavity surrounded by ancient trees, where she met with the Tawkami elders; among them was Mireya. Kiri was nervous but bowed her head to the seven.

|"We are glad to have you with us, young Kiri,"| an imposing woman spoke. |"Since we have no tsahìk to teach you, we, seven, of the ways of healing shall remember our friend, Mo'at, and pass on to you our knowledge. Come, sit."|

She signed her thank you and obeyed.

|"The place you are now in is one of the oldest groves in the world. The memory of these trees extends far, far back. They were saplings during the Time of The First Songs."|

Kiri gazed around the still meadow of pxayzìsìt with new, adoring eyes. Their stocky blue trunks were pimpled and withered with age, tapering into boughs that curled without restraint. Its maroon leaves could be mistaken for ribbons, draping over the branches in scant places like the hair of a balding elder.

|"To ensure their survival, we, Tawkami, have always trained the next generation on how to care for this grove. We feed the trees. We water the trees. We scribe their wounds and prune the death. But the most crucial task of all...is that we sing to them."|

Kiri swayed her head curiously.

|"To sing to them is an integral part of this caregiving. The same reason a mother would sing to her baby. We nurture our charge by speaking life into them through song. We shall teach it to you."|

Kiri waved her arm no and bunched her hand before her mouth, reminding them of her disability.

|"We will still have you learn the hymn so it is not forgotten. Listen well."|

The seven closed their eyes and calmly breathed themselves into a deep meditation. Their relaxed bodies—not resistant but flowing—synchronized with the energy seeping into the cavity, letting themselves be as the branches and their ears, as the leaves. Kiri awaited with building excitement for the song that had already begun. It crept from the bottom of their throats in a hum so subtle she mistook it for the wind, and just when she thought she understood what was happening, their rolling voices dug even deeper, and her whole body trembled. All seven maintained the same resonating note until one began the first psalm. The visitor could not decipher the words or determine if they were words at all as they rose up and married the whistling breeze. When the sweetly spoken verse concluded, the singer returned to humming, and their neighbour succeeded them with the next verse.

Kiri could physically feel the energy move within her as they sang. Chancing to look upon her arms, she discovered her bioluminescence was pulsating; the light of her freckles were dimming and increasing in waves—a miracle not of her doing. She was so fixated upon this phenomenon that she did not register right away when her glowing limbs began to levitate. By no mental command, her opening palms were pulled, like the heliotropic sunflower, towards the morning star when, all of a sudden, they dropped, and she was once again in control of herself.

The elders had finished.

⊕

"It was strange, Grandmother!" Kiri was sitting before Mo'at in the village centre for the day's midmeal. "My arms began lifting—like this. The glow of my aysanhì kept changing—like it was breathing! Has this happened to others?"

|"Not to my knowledge,"| Mo'at answered, handing her the spartan fruit Kiri pointed to. |"Have you ever experienced other strange sensations before?"|

Kiri took a large bite out of the messy delicacy that exploded with juice, then wiped her mouth. Her answer was a default shake of the head but stopped the motion when thinking it over. Setting down the fruit, she signed, "Yes, once. When the clans went out to fight the ground eater—when we were praying."