The Storyweaver

There have not always been dragons in the valley, but because our Storyweavers learned how to control them, we now welcome them.

There is no greater honor than being the Storyweaver. There is also no greater burden. In the village of Slawnic, on the planet Marquawn, the Storyweaver is the leader, the seer, and the chooser. She not only controls the dragons, but she alone chooses how each villager will contribute to society, and who each person is to join in life. The Storyweaver never joins with another, devoting her life to her role. She listens to petitions, and has the final say on all disputes.

Ulay’ has been the Storyweaver for 162 rotations of the planet. Her failing memory and aching joints indicate that it is time for her to search for a replacement. Ulay’ steps out her cabin door. With her mog tea floating in front of her, controlled by her thoughts, she surveys the village below from her home on the highest hill. She was chosen and groomed for her position at the age of five, shortly after learning to speak. She thinks about the four children who are currently of viable age, planning to visit and interview each candidate in the coming days.

_

Aminay giggles as her father, Tora lifts her high above his head. She puts her arms out, squealing, “Wee, I’m flying!” She often wishes she can fly.

Tova sets her down, saying, “Enough, Aminay.” He hugs her and kisses her cheek. “I’m off to the fields. Do your best today.”

Aminay looks at her feet, dreading the expected response. She grumbles, “So says the Storyweaver.”

Her father responds, “And so we thrive.”

Under her breath, Aminay says, “I hate that old Storyweaver.” She secretly wishes she had been born of a waterman or a hunter. She thinks, Farming is so boring and dirty. Then, she runs into the cabin, bounding up the ladder to her bedroom in the loft. She plops dejectedly on her bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. She muses, That mean old Storyweaver will probably join me with Jovah, the bed-wetter. I’ll be forever cleaning up…

“Aminay!” Her mother, Lawra, interrupts her thoughts. “Help prepare morning meal.”

“Yes, Mother,” Aminay sighs.

As she descends the ladder, a firm knock sounds on the door. When she turns around at the bottom of the ladder, she discovers that the Storyweaver herself has entered their home. Aminay immediately gets nervous, thinking, She’s a seer. Did she foresee my negative thoughts and come here to punish me?

After a short, whispered exchange between the adults, Lawra says, “Aminay, go fetch water from the trough.”

“Yes, Mother,” Aminay nods to the Storyweaver and rushes out the door, grabbing the water pail on the way out. She thinks, Whew, she must be here to choose an occupation for Thoma. I hope my brother gets to be teachmaster, like he wants. He’s so good at explaining things.

When she walks back in, her mother and Ulay’ are sitting at the table. No sign of Thoma, but Aminay isn't concerned. Thoma likes to head out early for school. Ulay’ beckons, “Sit here, Aminay. I must talk with you.” When she complies, Ulay’ continues, “I offer you this tea.” She floats a steaming cup of something toward Aminay that smells minty and quite tempting. “You are to drink this tea with your morning meal every day for five days. Your mother knows how to prepare it. I will talk with you about the results during your midday meals at school, starting tomorrow. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Storyweaver.” Aminay’s mind was racing back to punishment. Do I dare drink? Will I become mute? Lose my hair? Break out in spots?

The Storyweaver smiles and says, “Please, Aminay, call me Ulay’. We will be getting to know each other quite well.” She pats her legs twice and stands up with a slight groan. “Thank you, Lawra." She turns to Aminay. "See you tomorrow,” and then she leaves.

“Mother, what is this stuff? It’s not bad, is it? Why do I have to drink it?"

Lawra lets out a puff of air, in a half-laugh. “No, Aminay, I promise it’s not bad. I’m not supposed to tell you anything, so just drink it. I’ll get you some bread and cheese.” Her mother is unusually chipper. Curious.

Aminay sniffs the tea again. It is as if the drink is calling to her, “Sip. I taste wonderful. I will give you what you need.” Aminay sips. The warm liquid feels smooth and tingly going down. It tastes even better than it smells. She downs the contents quickly.

“Can I have more, please Mother?”

“No!” her mother practically shrieks, hastily taking the cup. “No more than one cup per day. The instructions were explicit.”

Aminay eats her food and then rushes off to school. She is not surprised to find Thoma there, waiting by the door. He’s flirting with the marketkeeper’s daughter, Naya.

“Kiss her, Thoma,” Aminay teases. Thoma’s face turns bright red. Then, he actually does it. He kisses her cheek. Now, Naya’s face is just as red. Aminay gets a sudden vision, like a daydream, of Thoma and Naya grown up, with three children. She shakes her head, trying to focus on the here and now.

The door opens and Teachmaster Gonda calls, “Good morning. Let's all do our best today.”

The students respond, “So the Storyweaver says, and so we thrive.”

During their lessons, Aminay gets another sudden vision, this time of Teachmaster Gonda being welcomed into the afterlife. Students pile farewell notes onto his funeral pyre before it is lit on fire.

Teachmaster Gonda picks that moment to call on her. She blushes and guesses, "Seven?" making everyone laugh loudly.

Teachmaster Gonda says, "Pay attention, Aminay. I asked you where the best dolla mushrooms can be found." He lets someone else answer.

Moments later, a third vision shows Thoma becoming the new teachmaster, the students hanging on his words. Aminay wonders, What is going on with me? I’ve never done so much daydreaming. I have to concentrate if I want to make good marks.

The lives of the Slawnics are dependent on good marks in school, social standing, and most importantly, having the ear of the Storyweaver.

Just before school is over, Aminay looks over at Jovah, the bed-wetter. She gets yet another vision. This time, she sees him grown up and very handsome. She sees her hands grab him and his arms wrap around her. They lean toward each other, as if to kiss romantically. She shakes her head and bites her lip. She starts hyperventilating and then consciously slows down her breathing. That must have happened because I was thinking of him earlier. Still, this is all too strange.

The next morning, Aminay drinks another cup of the tea and heads to school. She has several more visions about various classmates, but never says a word to any of them, lest they think her odd. Well, odder.

At midday, just when they are about to break for their meal, Storyweaver Ulay’ appears at the door. She says, “I need to see Aminay, please, Teachmaster Gonda.”

There are murmurs of wonder, and all eyes are on Aminay. The teachmaster says, “Of course, right away, Storyweaver.” He turns to Aminay and whispers, “Well? Don’t keep the Storyweaver waiting.”

Aminay walks with her head held high. It is a moment of glory she is certain will only come this once, so she isn’t about to rush to the door. Some students are gaping. Some have their hands over their mouths, as if to keep themselves from calling out her name. Aminay is eating this up...until she trips on a floorboard and falls face first at the feet of the Storyweaver. She quickly gets up and out the door, snickers following, even as she shuts the door. It was good while it lasted.

Ulay’ leads her to a spot near the river where kids have put up a swinging rope on a giant tree. She sits on a root and invites Aminay to sit also. Ulay’ tells Aminay, “I know that you have had visions. Do you know why?”

Aminay shrugs. “Well, you’re the Storyweaver, so I guess you saw.”

“No,” Ulay’ laughs gently, a musical sound. “I mean why YOU are having visions.” Aminay shakes her head. Ulay’ says, “Aminay, you are to be the next Storyweaver. You are the only one who saw visions, with the help of the mog tea. You will take my place after training for one rotation.” She studies Aminay’s face.

Aminay's eyes go wide. She stands up and yells loudly, “NO!” and she runs. And keeps running. She runs to the edge of town and beyond, past the farms. Luckily, she doesn’t see her father. She keeps running, beyond the farthest homes. She slows to a walk, panting. She realizes that she is about to surpass the farthest distance she has ever been from home. The path is barely visible now. She continues. After a long time, she stops to think. She knows she doesn’t want to be the next Storyweaver. What choice does she have? She doesn’t want to be feared and revered, but mostly, she doesn’t want to be isolated. Then, something occurs to her. She asks aloud, “Why did one of my visions show me with a young man if I am to be a hermit?”

She hears a voice, “Are you speaking to me?”

Startled, Aminay sees a boy, approximately two rotations older than herself, leaning against a stump, a bucket of berries next to him. She asks, “Who are you? You’re not from Slawnic, are you?”

The boy shakes his head. He puffs up his chest. “I’m Sevon’, from Vinton." He crinkles his eyebrows. "Why are you here?”

“I ran away because I don’t want to be the next Storyweaver.”

The boy’s mouth drops open. “What? Why not? It’s the best job you can get. I would do it in a heartbeat if I could. If you don’t like something, can’t you just change it? That’s what our Storyweaver does. We love her.”

Aminay rubs her hand through her hair. “I never thought of that.” She thinks of all the good she can do. The first thing she thinks of is getting rid of the silly, "So says the Storyweaver, and so we thrive" statement. A good start, she muses. She can also make it so that more people can choose what they want to be and with whom they will join. She can make it so that there is more contact and exchange with their neighbors in Vinton. She can reward people for inventing things which will improve their way of life. Maybe someone will even invent a way to fly! She can make it so that the Storyweaver can be joined. She won’t have to be alone, and her fledgling visions will come true. She looked at Sevon’ and said, “Thank you for the talk. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

Now that she made her decision, Aminay hurries back toward Slawnic. She alternates jogging and fast walking. She is so tired that she’s not sure if she can make it back before sunset. She hears wings beating and looks up when the sun is blocked by a beautiful, black dragon. His scaly skin glistens in the late afternoon sun. He lands in the field and bows to her. He speaks into her mind, You wish to fly?

Aminay stands, mouth a-gape. She snaps out of her stupor and says, “Oh, yes, I’ve always wanted to fly.”

The dragon speaks again, My name is Pomog. It will be my honor to fly you home. Climb on and hold onto the leather straps.

As Pomog takes off, Aminay can’t help squealing for joy, “Weee!”

Pomog flies her in some low circles so she can get the feel of it. Then he shoots up high and does some fast turns. He dives down and flies through the trees. Aminay instinctively leans with him and he turns. She knows Pomog is enjoying showing off, and she's delighted. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.

By the time they get to Slawnic, she knows by the position of the sun that school is over, so she asks the dragon to take her to the Storyweaver’s cabin on the hill. She thanks Pomog and climbs off. She nervously knocks, knowing she may have messed up her chance to make a better life for her and her people. She is about to find out what future she will weave for herself.

Ulay’ smiles as she opens the door and says, “I’ve been expecting you. Shall we begin?”