The Colorful Chrysalis

Gonyaul kept asking questions regarding the Astigani style tent construction, occasionally distracting the Astigani man's perpetual attempts to capture the sexual interest of Voah. He wanted to make sure he understood the construction of the structure inside and out. This was going to be their new home for the interim, if it were to fail, he would need to know how to fabricate and mend it. He needed to know how to quickly setup and takedown the tent in order to be prepared for the inevitable unexpected. Gonyaul added the design to his every growing cultural tent palette.

He was aware that the man was interested in Voah. Why wouldn't the man be attracted to Voah? Gonyaul would logically concluded that almost every man they came across would be attracted to her. Gonyaul was sure he wasn't the only person in existence that had the observational skills to see she was absolutely breathtaking, naturally graceful, and radiating sensuality. Gonyaul didn't feel threatened at all and was not even a bit jealous. He chose to trust Voah unconditionally and if she had given her love to him, then why should he have to fear that she would give her love to another?

What perhaps Voah didn't quite grasp was that Gonyaul had lived an extremely sheltered life up until he was 18 years of age. It was a life that was saturated, forged, and developed in Vauxian culture. His culture had a very different process and perspective towards relationships than the mainstream versions commonly mishandled. The Vaux trained to be the salt of the world and the light on a hill. They were to be in the world, but not of the world. Petty games, skewed versions of love, selfish bents were alien to him. Was it purely the training that formed a Vaux to be so resistant and resilient to such things, or was there something more? As if the sins of this world seemed to be more indifferent to them, just as magik also seemed to.

As Gonyaul wrapped his eyes and took a seated position outside their new home, he couldn't help but notice Voah deep in thought about something. There was a shine of worry in her eyes as she looked up into the heavens. There was much to be concerned about. Perhaps she would share it with him when ready?

As he moved into a deep meditative state, Gonyaul bounced from one thought to the next. At the forefront was Tiponi, her family and the Red Hand tribe. He hoped that they were safe; however, he had this foreboding feeling that evil and ruin was fast upon them. As his thoughts shifted, he hoped with every fiber in his being that goodness would flow despite if malice seemed victorious. His next thoughts were more palatable, dealing with images of curiosity woven together of what the desert and this holy city would look like. His imagination even had a parade down a make-believe environment with a donkey dressed in robes being honored. As always, his thoughts went through memory lane back to his childhood and his people.

In his subconscious, his mind began reciting the words all over his body taking him deeper and deeper until he was beyond thought, beyond feeling, beyond everything except being. He had reached the void, or the El (which meant 'home' in vauxian), as his people would say. It always felt like coming home when he was able to get there during a meditation. It was an exciting place, never the same upon arrival and always unexpected what one would experience while there.

Gonyaul was in darkness, but that darkness was punctuated with subtly growing colors. It was the hues of autumn leaves and their staccato presence in the void brought with it a feeling of sound; not the type of sound one hears with ones ears. He surrendered to it, and noticed those colors whirling about as if leaves on the wind. It created a melody that was most pleasing. Within the forming music were shimmering thoughts...

"If she gives you her heart don't break it. There will be days where the whole world might cave in. Stand side by side and you'll make it. Your arms must be a place she feels safe in. Kiss her with passion as much as you can. Run your hands through her hair whenever she's sad. And when she forgets how wonderful she is, remind her over and over so she never forgets. Bring beauty into her life. Stand up when she can't. Don't ever leave her hungry for love or chase after things that you can give up. Show her you are willing to fight and that she will be the love of your life."

As these words made themselves known, the colors formed a surreal looking illusion of a chrysalis; the kind that metamorphosizes a caterpillar into a butterfly. And suddenly, without warning, Gonyaul snapped out of the meditation. As he took off his eye wrap, Gonyaul pondered his experience in the void. He had a feeling that he needed to undergo a metamorphosis. For whatever was to come, he would need to gain the wisdom and understanding to be more capable and better equipped to serve others.

Gonyaul talked to Hoi and Cambena briefly, mainly giving them an update on what they were doing and he hoped they also had a good day, before entering into the tent.