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A Quiet Crossroads (Lake Baikal, Siberia)
#44
The subtext that she was afraid bothered her. She was afraid, and she would admit it, but she disliked the idea that she should be more calm simply because he’d half-told-her what to expect. In the most fantastical and twisted way, no less, knowing that she was only entertaining the idea because of the way he told the original tale. Kemala could hardly look him in the eye anymore. It was just too damn hard. Instead, she blinked and turned her attention to the surface of the water with a frown. It had settled back to glass by then, completely impervious to the disturbance. Nay that anything swam beneath them at all. Were there more down there? How many? The lake was flooded with rumors and tales. It was why she came to Baikal at all, chasing the legends of snakes and fantastical creatures and hoping to find another nest of the Naga that had saved her so that she could deliver them from hiding.

The boat rocked a little when he sat, but it was a soothing movement. She breathed a sigh of relief, but the lowered proximity all but forced her to meet his eye again. They were so light. Like he was some sort of albino fish tentatively testing shallower waters for the first time. But like the surface of Baikal, their lightness was hard and accusatory. Anger rimmed them, which inflamed hers in turn.

”I did stare down a tsunami. There were innocent people behind me, and I was protecting everything that I love. What is here for me to love?” The words spilled before she understood the meaning. She didn’t mean that there weren’t innocents or anyone else that captured her care, but the Energies came out of defiance and anger. She had been afraid, but most importantly, stubbornly refused to lose what she loved most that night.

A silence plugged her voice as she searched for the right saying.

”…This is just fishing,”, she muttered. He clearly didn’t love the creature that he sought. Nor show any attachment to the people, land, or anything else except being tall and wet. Bangsat

She tried to remember more of what they discussed at the hostel. He talked of a talisman that aided him in the previous encounter. Other than generic suggestion of helping him, she had suggested to accompany him for the spectacle first and foremost and for the company second. The journey from Bali was lonely, and Kemala enjoyed a storyteller. Oh how foolish she’d been.

His question went unanswered but for casting her dark eyes toward the distant shore, finally summoning the pride to meet his light ones again. She was tempted to explain nothing. That if he couldn’t figure it out, they would have to sit there until they drifted to shore.

Instead, she decided she didn’t want to sit in the boat all day simply to prove a point. She drew a cleansing breath and tried to put the emotions behind her. It worked a little. “I will explain, but you must tell me what we are doing here. Why do you want that thing? And why do you want me here?"  Her feelings bubbled up annoyingly that moment.

"Am I bait or am I something ... else?”

She went on to explain how she did what she did. “To harness the power of tenaga dalam, you must quiet the mind and focus the breath. Be satisfied with the moment, stop moving and remain still. Once you do, you can sense the five powers: Jasmani, Rohaniah, Batin, Dalam, and Gerak, and embracing these powers was how I faced the tsunami and moved the boat. Sweep the boat with the power of dalam, the power of breath,” she said while making a motion with her arm like it was obvious what to do.

Of course, it took her years of practice and meditation to master tenaga dalam. Sören, on the other hand, seemed the opposite of the type to meditate and turn inward. He was action incarnate.
 
∞ Kemala ∞ Oyá ∞ Dewi Ratih ∞ Kekura ∞




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RE: A Quiet Crossroads (Lake Baikal, Siberia) - by Kemala - 04-06-2023, 09:58 PM

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