Not-So-Random Writing Prompt 14: The Weaver, Pt. 4

Baetylus tried to contact the Elders, but he found the meatform he inhabited wholly unsuitable for the task. The technology of the planet was too primitive to be used for the task, and his skill set did not include creating transdimensional communications arrays from the dross of sentient apes. Depression set in.

The days and the nights passed. The vegetation on the hills he could see far from the city went from brown to green to gold to brown again. The lesser organisms procreated, birthed young, passed away. The ambient temperature increased and decreased. Condensed hydrogen and oxygen precipitated from the sky.

Baetylus awoke one morning after the planet’s axis had tilted away from the sun and felt an urge he hadn’t since he had been back on Somnos.

He wanted to weave.

There were locations on Somnos that facilitated the process. Drugs that could be ingested that aided in envisioning a weaving. He had access to none of these things, but he wouldn’t let that deter him. He consulted the meatform’s memories and decided that the best he could do would be to go to a “park” and perform the weaving there. There would be other meatforms engaged in a variety of activities, and he could tap into the various energies flowing through them to weave. So he went to the park, and he found a vacant bench, and he began the intonations and the hand gestures that began the weaving process.

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