Joining the dance Chapter 1

         Many day pass as the warrior prepares for his first battle of courage. This is no ordinary battle where blood and tears are spilt over meaningless political confrontations, no. This was his one internal battle that manifested itself into the external. Some called him a great sage as he worked his magic, telling tales of past lives that have carried his soul throughout time. Some say that he is a crazed, weak man, looking for people who sympathize with his multiple personalities.
         "The souls that speak through me", the Warrior says,"Are the loved ones that people have lost, and those people come to me, begging to speak to their deceased." With closed eyes and shut mouth, the Warrior can feel himself sweat when he's next to him, his own lost son.
         Years ago, his son, Gabriel, was rumored to be dead, lying on the desert sands, surrounded by dunes who chant for the loss of a young child. He never saw it with his own eyes, but his grand mother had come up to him after many days of searching, in dreadful stride with her cane and shawl, tears silently rolled down her face and gave the news to our Warrior, Amok, who responded with many days of depression and regret.
         He spoke to the dead long before his son's death, everyday he'd see either slow moving orbs of light or pale figures that moved through the sands. And at times, those souls manifested themselves with color, as if they looked like actual living people. He was able to tell the difference however, because these manifestations lacked emotion and the "light" that living beings gave off.
         "Their light rises from the Earth's surface and reaches it's destination towards the sun, at the same time feeding it's energy to the soul of the Earth." Amok made sure to watch, in reverance, each light that moved towards the sun. However, he could not look at his son's soul rise, for he knew that every time he'd glance at the gentle blue light of his son, he'd remember the regretful things that he had done, the things he hadn't told Gabriel, or the things he had yet to teach him. Each day he'd look up to the sky and see Gabriel's light slowly move towards it's destination, and Amok would turn his head away, his eyes red with tears.
          It seemed to be routine, waking and looking at the skies in search of Gabriel only to turn away with morose eyes and regretful intentions.
         "Maybe they are right," Amok said to himself, "maybe I am weak, I do not have the guts to even look at the soul of my son." He could not bring himself out of the hole he dug himself into. He felt that as each second passes, he could feel the soil falling over his head, and he accepted his own internal burial. He wanted death. No longer did he want to feel despair and dread. His family members, friends, and others who wanted to speak with their lost loved ones gathered at his tent, praying for the man's health and soul. Amok only let his grandmother, Zohra, and his sister, Ada, into the tent.
          For ten days and nights the crowd of people that surrounded his tent had meditated and prayed for the well being of Amok and on the last day, Zohra slowly walked through the crowd, kissing the foreheads of all. Ada came out, holding hands with her brother, guiding him into the light. Squinting towards the rays of sunlight he no longer saw his son's light floating through the air; he lowered his head. Ada revealed the news with a stern face, and each person came up to Amok and blessed, him. Not only for the loss of his son, but for the journey he was to embark on. At the last blessing, Amok raised his shaking head. He had lowered his gaze, not to avoid the people's wandering eyes, but to avoid looking at the blue orb that was next to him.