Not really sure where I'm going with this, I just wanted to write a TF inspired by the Indo valley area. Mix a bit of paki and india mythology with my own interpretation. Kind of an odd one, I know.
As the flash of white consumed us, the sense of something ancient wrapped around our senses. The world that once seemed so resolute unraveled before us as if it were no more than a jumble of yarn. The strands of thought and memory began to extend into a world beyond the five senses. We were no longer in the old park, sitting on a bench; rather, our consciousness was drawn out past the edges of our bodies and interwoven with the memory of something ancient. The air was charged with the roar of a rushing river echoing between two great mountain ranges. Feral cries of things both natural and supernatural erupted from the dark jungles therein. But greater than it all were the voices and bells of song and dance.
We found ourselves at the center of a grand open courtyard of sandstone and polished black marble, intricate carvings covering the surrounding pillars depicting stories of beings neither god nor man. Reliefs of spirits caught mid-motion, twisting and turning in an eternal dance. In the courtyard before us, otherworldly figures decorated in vibrant gold jewelry began to twirl, dance, and stomp. Each footfall carried the chime of a thousand bells and sent ripples out into the supernatural aether. At the center of all the dancers, a raven-haired woman arose, blooming like the petals of a morning flower. She was cloaked in veils of gold and crimson silk. From her headdress that seemed to depict the kingdom of sun and moon to her toes adorned with jeweled rings, her raiment glimmered like the sun. Her skin was the color of the evening sky, speckled with tiny, luminescent constellations. Her eyes were glistening orbs of deep, ethereal blue. She gazed at us with a mix of curiosity and ancient knowing.
I knew instinctively that she was a temple dancer, entertainer, wish granter, and courtesan of something even more ancient and powerful than herself, and yet she was estranged from that life, existing perpetually in this captured memory of what once was.
She too began to dance, but where the other dancers left ripples in our vision, her movements swirled the fabric of reality, releasing sounds and scents, and sights too vast for a mortal mind to hold. The ground itself shivered as she began to stamp out her dance. Her movement told of the binding of creation into the material world and of her kind who danced so freely along the riverbanks until they were subdued by sages, gods, and other beings. Her hands, adorned with bracelets that chimed with innumerable delicate bells, gestured the tale of ritual fire that sealed their might in a small red stone.
Karyn gasped beside me, her voice caught in awe as the realization settled. We weren’t just witnessing a vision but receiving the truth of the stone’s essence, its origin, and the magics that fueled and bound it.
The spirit's gaze locked with ours, and without words, we felt her presence urging us, compelling us to fulfill our own wish. The whispers of the stone, resonating with her song and dance, became louder and more insistent. A deep and resonant voice called out from within. "Become as we are. See as we see."
My hand trembled, but regardless of what I wanted, the wish was made. There was no fighting what was to come. Karyn's eyes met mine, and I knew we were experiencing the same compulsion.
In the material world, the stone was a solid rock, but here it was an oath of fire and a song of water. A hundred voices sang inside the vessel, but two notes would carry the harmony outside.
We pulled apart the stone into two distinct pieces and, against our own will and power, plunged the stone into our foreheads. There was no pain; rather, it was like staring bleary-eyed into the sun in the early morning. We saw EVERYTHING. Before our new, wide eyes, the tapestry of reality unfurled. We saw the many threads of wishes, and we saw the permanence with which they were tangled in reality. They might be plucked, twisted, and rewoven, but never removed. And we saw at last the effect of our final wish. The two stones became one with our skin, stitching into our mind's eye, now visible as glowing red bindis at the center of each of our brows.
The last thing I saw of that place was the great spirit’s parting smile lingering in my mind as an unspoken warning. Power comes with bonds, and the dance we had begun was one that might never end.
As quickly as we were ushered into that unseen world, we were ejected from it, sitting once again on the park bench, holding hands.
I could feel the stone, but it was no longer clasped in our hands. My shard of the stone now thrummed deep in my brow, a third eye into the hidden world. A silent, ancient rhythm tapping at the edges of my consciousness. If that were the only change, I would have been fine.
I looked at Karyn, and gasped. Where once sat my friend, was now an avatar of that ancient spirit. The woman before me had rich blue skin, piercing wide eyes, a large red stone lodged in her brow, and an otherworldly grace. Yet I could also see my friends bewildered expression on familiar features. She was still wearing her black tank top and jeans, and her striking blonde hair still draped over her shoulder unchanged. She was still my friend, but whatever else she was, she was clearly no longer human.
"Jon...?" She stammered.
I blinked, suddenly realizing that she had been gazing at me with the same inquisitive confusion.
"Why are you a blue girl?" she asked flatly.
"WHAT?" I cried out in a voice both shrill and melodious.
