Two beams of light shot forth from the tower. The one at the bottom lit up the forest behind Joseph's hazy structure. The one higher angled toward the unknown sky as the tower began to swell. Lines of light emerged from beneath its grey
surface, widening in brilliance. Within seconds, all of the tower that was seen was swallowed up by that light.
Before consuming Joseph's structure, the ground shook, the light drank up the air, and the sky thundered. Then the light dimmed, revealing a column of fire underneath. A roar went out across the land.
The villagers, their dance frozen, their sights blinded, gawked as the light faded so that they might see the eruption.
From the unknown elevations of the sky came those upper heights of the tower. Now shaped as dark roiling clouds, they reached out over this named land. Writhing within them were orange blasts and arms of fire tumbling down toward the village. As they plummeted, they fanned out to cast a deep shadow that stretched beyond the mountain border.
Lifting the sash from their heads, Joseph opened his eyes to see Tamara's were still closed. With one hand, he cupped her cheeks between his fingers, rousing her from her dream. Looking upon him, she was met with his smile.
"They did it." He said, and moved the sash to the side.
Looking up, they saw the storms rolling across, felt the air vibrating, the ground melting, as that new shadow climbed the mountainside. All the villagers were watching the moment both the shadow and the storms met at the top, slamming into the dip at the gate.
Joseph and Tamara held onto each other as many of the villagers knelt down while others were knocked off their feet. With the gate closed off, the parts of the storm that still fanned out continued to reach in either direction. The part that tried to follow the river upstream met the invisible barrier, halting its advance. The section running downriver had yet to reach the mysteries there.
But Joseph wasn't concerning himself with that. He was looking directly above. The roiling clouds were still descending, boiling inside with blasts and arms of fire. None of the villagers tried to stand inside the darkening shadow and roaring winds. Like Joseph and Tamara, they held onto one another, bearing witness to the sudden change.
Those arms of fire beat at the clouds. Something was peeking between each break, pushing blasts of heat and exclamations forth.
"Look." Joseph whispered to Tamara. "The way the clouds fan out. It's all part of a…"
"Ah new one!" Tamara gasped. "Dee tower! It dies to be reborn!"
That which peeked between the clouds now came forth, dropping a new surface from the angry sky. A slab of stone, reaching from the hidden barrier upstream to a point several leagues downriver from the village, forced the clouds to dissolve. Upon its arrival, the top of the mountain boomed.
The villagers witnessed the dip where the gate was being shut out from this named land. The edge of the slab slid down, digging into the slope. This bunched up the loosened rock and dirt to form a new ledge. There it finally rested when
another boom sounded on the other side of the river.
The slab hammered upon something hidden within the wall of clouds where the base of the tower was before. Already angered, the slab forced them to rage toward the village. The river having long been covered, the clouds were tumbling upon the structures there along the stretch of sugarcane. The wind from the advance pierced the spaces between the buildings and attacked the villagers.
Yet, many of them had already experienced a similar gale before.
That same group of women lined up before the fractured circle of spectators. Having retrieved the sashes they brought into the meeting, they held the ends of them high above their heads. The length of each one ascended, being caught up by the winds. From the women's fingers rose lines of light, marking their way in right-angled patterns up the material. Where they glowed, the fabric stiffened, until the
whole sash stood upright.
With these banners erected side-by-side, the rolling clouds engulfed those structurers along the river and then met this new line. The patterns of light flashed at the collision. The women jerked and braced themselves as the clouds were forced to ascend. As wide as the women could stretch their line, the wall of clouds was wider than the village. The storm carried across the path on either side of them to engulf the houses at the base of the mountain.
The old man with the staff stood in the center of the broken circle. He raised his staff, letting the winds capture the sash. So much of its length was still lying outside of the circle and down the path. The clouds downriver had already snagged the end of it to carry it toward the mountain. The old man began waving the tip of the staff back and forth above his head. The end of the sash followed along while the rest was lost upon the winds.
Still, the old man waved it about, because he knew it would soon obey. Erratic those first few moments, the portion of the sash attached to the staff began to harden. From there, the material was coaxed into shape. This new will ran down the length, bending the sash into a curve. As the old man waved the staff back and forth, the curve twirled around above him. This repeating motion pulled the sash from the winds that clawed at the mountainside. It arrived to become a part of a growing spiral, starting small at the end of the staff and growing wider the higher it climbed.
As it was being pulled into shape, the winds started to come along with it. Their tyrannical forward march stumbled and slowed, going into a roll against the slope of the mountain. Having lost their footing, they slipped backward and was then caught up in a new current.
The spiral directed the winds now, gathering them into a spherical body above the old man. He kept waving the staff from side to side, encouraging the spiral. The clouds and winds from the other side of the river weren't finished with this roar of rebirth. The strength from their forward rush was still challenging the women's barrier of banners.
Where it lost momentum in its forced ascent, the currents that whipped to either side were instantly caught up by the spiral's motion. That roar might have rebelled against the will of this named land, but it was feeding the spherical body trapped inside of the expanding spiral. The villagers held onto one another and rode out this argument. The women held their ground, and the old man didn't cease in waving the staff about.
Joseph heard the moment when the roaring began to wane. The pitch dropped in tone just as the glowing patterns on the banners lost a fraction of intensity. The repelled winds slowed their ascent, and the spiral's growth eased into its final girth.
The giant slab rested in place above, but now the clouds that devoured the river were breaking apart. Behind them was another surface. Chiseled and shaped by the arms of fire, this hardened material smoldered in its aggravation. Where
there had been a mixture of windchill and warmth from the roar's tantrum, now there was only heat.
The villagers were faced with a solid wall where once stood their houses of work. The sugarcane and the river were either buried or captured. Either way, the villagers were blocked off from them.
The glowing patterns hushed their efforts, and the women's banners loosened. Together, they stood in their line while the banners drooped and fluttered before them, eventually resting at their feet.
The spherical body had all but dissolved, so the old man stopped waving his staff about. Resting it at his side, the sash relaxed from its spiraled flex to flutter down into the circle of villagers.
They all stared in silence at this new structure that cast its oppressive shadow upon what was left of their village.
Joseph got to his feet and helped Tamara to hers. Others were getting up from the ground, but no one said a word. Already privy to the end of the slab above that rested along the mountain and just inside the gate, now they saw the other end that rested upon the top of the wall before them. There was no observable slope from one end to the other. This wall was almost as tall as the mountain.
Every sash lay still upon the ground. Tamara's hair no longer shivered, but retained its feathery softness. The women's sarongs caressed their legs, and their bandanas sat in place upon their heads.
The absence of the roar gave way to silence. No one moved, just waited, staring at the wall.
Joseph blinked, tightening his fists to keep himself from jolting to the sudden boom. Around him, some of the women gasped, shuddering in their postures. It might have been the resulting rumbling under their feet that tipped them off balance.
As quick as the boom sounded, it stopped, and everything settled back into place. Yet, everyone stood rigid. Others clamped their fingers into fists like Joseph had. The sound had come from the wall. The rumbling wave swept from its base to collide with the base of the mountain.
Now there was silence.
The moment lingered. No one dared turn their head any measure to study some random part of the wall other than the spot they focused on now.
Boooom!
The rumbling wave raced underneath their feet so quick. Some tossed their arms about. Others hunched down to center their balance. Tamara grabbed onto Joseph's wrist.
When he chanced a second to look down at her expression, he saw that her intent was to see beyond the wall.
"Tell me." He whispered.
He snapped back to the wall when there came another boom. The ground shifted under their feet, and the air hissed in their ears. He thought he saw the surface of the wall buzzing.
Tamara was nodding, "Now we know."
Joseph waited for her to explain further. He was already struggling with his evaluation of the truth of things. His lineage, for one thing. Was it ever in danger? Had they all been fooled?
"Hide in plain sight." Tamara snarled. "Dat his plan. Tah wait at our backs while we focus on dah gate. Den benefit off our actions."
Something protruded from the wall. About halfway up and to the right, Joseph counted them. Three petrified swells grew from the surface. They were evenly spaced from each other, but the one in the middle was a bit higher. They pushed outward, absorbing more of the surface around them.
Before they came close to touching each other, a forth one emerged. It was below the others and to the right, growing at the same pace. Joseph studied their arrangement, describing it to himself as an arc, but tilted to the side. That idea was brushed away when the fifth protrusion appeared.
Further below the rest and far enough to the left, it was singled out not only by distance, but by its larger size. Arriving last, it grew and pushed outward faster than the rest.
Reaching out over the village, their tips were rounded while their bodies expanded into cone-like shapes. The stone surface of the wall grumbled during their growth. When they started to slow, the protrusions scraped and whined against the surrounding texture. Once they stopped, the grinding of rock against rock ceased irritating the villagers' ears.
All five protrusions shared the same lengths, but they weren't finished moving. In unison, they bent their bodies, bringing their rounded tips inward to meet in the center of their grouping. During this new transformation, Joseph spotted the hardened bulges along the middle of each one and along their outer portions. They had bent inward from these joints.
Like knuckles, Joseph thought.
"Calarapan." Tamara hissed.
Hardened into a claw-like shape, the protrusions jerked forward and then were yanked backward. The surface of the wall went with them. All the villagers fought for their balance when the ground jumped, shoving their legs up into the rest of their bodies.
The upper corner of the entire wall cracked and collapsed inward. Thousands of lines raced toward the epicenter, creating a blurred web that reshaped that section of the wall.
Joseph's feet melted along with the dirt of the village path. The air attacked his face while colors he saw blended into one another. His heart rattled against the rest of his body, but he wouldn't let that deter him from keeping his focus on the wall. He tried to dig his toes into the path, but he couldn't feel them.
He did feel Tamara's hands upon his wrist and forearm. He was about to check on her when he spotted something new upon the wall. The quake from the collapse had almost subsided when three more protrusions appeared halfway up and to the left. Like the first set, the one in the middle was slightly higher than the other two. Soon after they emerged, the forth one came.
Joseph glanced between each set. The first was still anchored there at the epicenter of the collapse. They remained bent inward, having grabbed onto a point on the wall, now holding this new shape in place. Over to the left, the fifth and biggest protrusion emerged, hurrying to match the length of the others. Tamara was already tightening her hold on his arm, but before the expected disfiguring of the wall's surface, Joseph studied the distance between each set.
He didn't have to see the buildings that used to stand along that side of the path to know that two or three occupied the space between the sets of protrusions. Taking that into consideration, and assuming the size of each digit that made up either set…this Calarapan did not match that which he saw in Chantale's vision.
The five new protrusions matched one another in length. Then they bent inward, taking a hold of the wall. There was the quick jab, and then the collapse. The ground threatened to shove the bottom halves of all present into their upper halves once more as that section of the wall shattered like glass. The resulting web blurred in Joseph's vision as he tried again to anchor his feet upon the liquifying ground.
This power, this ability to manipulate so much here in this named land, how much had Calarapan accomplished? What was he able to claim?
Rediscovering some of the path's texture under his feet, Joseph saw the first set of protrusions uncurling and slipping back inside the wall, leaving the collapsed section as it was. He threw his eyes over to the second set to see if they would do the same, but he was then taken back to the right. Not as far in that direction this time, and a little below the first appearance, three protrusions emerged, followed by the forth. When the fifth one appeared, Joseph braced himself.
The set to the left remained in place while the other set curled inward, grabbing ahold of the wall. There was the quick thrust, and then the booming collapse. More lines raced toward the new epicenter, breaking the surface, throwing the
village path up into the villagers, and stinging the air about them.
Three large craters marred the once flat smoldering surface of the wall. Each one differed in size, each one being as large as the houses on the other side of the path.
Joseph saw there was no time to rest. The second set slipped back into the wall only to emerge again closer toward the center. Three protrusions. Then four. Now all five. They curled inward, feigned their forward advance, only to collapse that section of the wall.
Several of the villagers knelt to the ground, unable to keep themselves upright. As the set of protrusions centered themselves among the blurring web of broken rock, Tamara dropped to one knee.
Joseph bent down with her, grabbing onto her shoulder. As they rode out the ground's anger, she looked past him. When she came into focus, Joseph saw her pointing. Noting she wasn't pointing at the wall, he looked past the right edge of the wall.
And he gasped.
The river had been broken. A slice of the land had been taken away. The waters now tumbled over an edge. The riverbed on the other side of the gap was forced to give up its contents as well. As though a giant knife had carved into the ground, the gap stretched into the village, tapering off in the middle of the
path.
Joseph looked back up at the wall just in time to see that one set of protrusions had disappeared. Within seconds, it reappeared within a section of webbed rocks. No matter the wound already being present, Calarapan grabbed ahold and yanked it inward.
There was no point for any of the villagers to stand. Even if having every one of them kneeling was a part of his plan, they relied not on their pride. Instead, they chose to ride this out. One crater now birthed another in its lower left section. There wasn't much left of the wall's solid flat surface.
Still, Calarapan clawed at it, pulled at it, shook the ground with each collapse. Webs of lines were cut off by new ones, blitzing the patterns so each rumble sent ripples across the wall's broken surface. And still, Calarapan wasn't finished.
He grabbed and clawed and yanked at the wounded rocks, collapsing them further.
Having knelt at Tamara's side, Joseph, no longer concerned for his balance, merely observed this process. Each consecutive boom took the wall further away. As it receded, the split in the ground along the right cut that much closer to the base of the mountain.
He wondered what would happen once it arrived. Would it split up the slope of the mountain or go underneath, totally dismantling the foundation altogether? If so, the heavy slab above might fall. It should have already lost its purchase upon the top of the wall. The center of the disfigured surface had recessed the deepest, yet Calarapan's process was taking from the outer edges, exposing more of the slab's length.
Joseph wondered how far it had stretched. Would the mountain collapse first, finally giving this heavy ceiling a slope?
Despite that, the wall had been pulled back to a point that should have exposed those buildings along the river bank. Yet, Calarapan continued to claw and pull at the surface.
"Is he trapped?" Joseph finally asked.
"No." Tamara answered, shaking her head, "He builds."
The only shapes Joseph could see were the results of each collapse. If there was a plan, he couldn't discern it. All there was to observe was destruction.
"Dis his stronghold." Tamara added.
How far had the wall recessed beyond the river? Joseph's structure stood in its path. He wasn't ready to accept that it had been claimed or, worse yet, buried underneath Calarapan's stronghold.
The spirit realm worked by the rules of truth. Still, the manifestations of results were translated according to one's knowledge. Landscapes could be warped to fit the dimensions of certain elements.
Parts of his named land were falling to levels he had yet to excavate. Only huts and wooden structures with thatched roofs stood upon this land. He had yet to accomplish what he already established in the lands of his lineage.
Calarapan was not just cutting him off from his future plans. Joseph was losing what he had already established here. He looked to the left. The land on that side remained intact. Perhaps that was because of the barrier. Calarapan hadn't
taken it upon himself to worry with the boundaries, only what was Joseph's.
To the right, there was still land he owned on the other side of the gap. There were no signs of it, but were the mysteries standing their ground? They needed routes in the spirit realm to move. Despite their nomadic lifestyle, the ground where they rustled through was sacred to them.
"He believes he's already won?" Joseph asked Tamara.
She sneered at the receding wall and answered, "Maybe. Or maybe he intimidates."
Joseph glared at the wall, defiant. Would he be made to wait? Was Calarapan in the process of creating an entrance for his stronghold? To have it empty his vileness right out in the middle of this village?
Out of spite.
Watching Calarapan's destructive pattern, the powerful gesture of curling his fingers around a portion of rock and then using his might to reshape what was once a wall, Joseph was reminded of his time with Ernie and Henry.
Now, he saw the web patterns in the receding wall as seams in Calarapan's stronghold. Whatever those two men did, they were able to unbind what appeared to have no building blocks at all.
He wondered: even if this was the truer form of this building, did the fact that there were seams make it vulnerable to his own fists? Was Calarapan unknowingly giving that away by using his?
Either way, he wasn't about to just stand here in his own land while the enemy prepared themselves at their leisure.
Tamara was startled by Joseph's slow rise. She tightened her grip upon his wrist, "What you do?"
"It's my job to invite others to my land." Joseph answered. "I'll be the one to open a door. It won't be the other way around."
A loud crack pulled his attention to the right. The gap had already crossed to the other side of the path. The end of it disappeared between two of the buildings at the base of the mountain, but Joseph had looked just in time to watch a chunk along the river side fall into the ravine. The jagged edge left behind pointed up the path. A new crack spit off from the tip, promising a new avenue of destruction.
Joseph's sudden urgency stalled when his eyes drifted closer to the degraded edge of Calarapan's wall. This whole time, he had assumed the gap in the land came from the stronghold itself, but now that he was paying attention, he saw there was a stretch of his land between this building and the gap. It was a narrow stretch, but wide enough for a person.
"Another way around." He whispered.
"What?" Tamara asked. She couldn't hear him over the thunders of Calarapan's hands.
Joseph studied this new possibility a moment, and then he looked down at Tamara. Dropping low enough to speak to her face-to-face, he said, "Whatever happens, make sure you meet him with force."
"And you?" she asked.
"I'm going to try something." He answered.
"It not much longer." Tamara warned.
"I know." Joseph responded. "But if this happens like I think it will…" he looked toward the right bottom corner of the wall. The more it receded with the rest, the more of that narrow stretch was revealed. "…then you won't meet him at all."
Tamara's frightened visage relaxed, and she searched Joseph for an explanation. Yet, he didn't give one. He straightened and slipped from her loosening grasp. Then he
dashed away from the rest of the villagers who were instantly aware of his deviation. Before anyone could ask after him with their backward voices, Tamara got to her feet and started forward.
"Ready ya-selves!" she announced, pulling their attention away from Joseph. Steadying herself against the thunders and the rolling ground, she marched toward the women still lined up in front of the others. "Ya banners will rise again! Dat
or Joseph will draw Calarapan away!"