The Orb is Brave
Mina tiptoed into the clearing, her bare feet brushing the soft moss that carpeted the ground. The orb’s weight tugging in her pocket as she took in the scene.
The Weaver loomed ahead, its angular frame bathed in the soft glow of twilight. Threads of golden light stretched between its fingers, weaving patterns that shimmered and shifted with each movement. Mina paused, clutching the orb close.
“Okay,” she whispered to the orb as she removed it from her pocket, “this is where you have to be extra polite. The Weaver’s kind of spooky, but she’s nice underneath all the glowing stuff. Probably.”
The orb pulsed faintly in response. Mina took that as agreement.
She stepped closer, tilting her head to peer up at the Weaver. “Hi!” she called out, her voice bright and unafraid. “I brought my orb friend. Thought you might wanna see it again.”
The Weaver turned slowly, its movements fluid but deliberate. Threads of light cascaded down from its hands, dissolving into the ground as it faced her. Its many-faceted eyes seemed to study Mina, then the orb, then Mina again.
“Child of Ashvine,” the Weaver said, its voice like a melody woven from distant echoes. “You return with the seed.”
Mina blinked, then held the orb up. “You mean this? It’s not just a seed, you know. It’s already learning. I’ve been teaching it all sorts of things—how to listen, how to care, how to not be scary.” She gave the orb an affectionate pat. “It’s really good at listening.”
The Weaver extended one of its delicate limbs, the light in its fingers dancing across the orb’s surface. Mina watched closely, her brows furrowed.
“Hey,” she said, her tone suddenly protective, “be gentle. It’s still little.”
The Weaver paused, its glowing threads softening. “This seed carries the potential to bridge worlds,” it murmured. “Yet it is shaped by the hand that tends it. You have begun its journey well, Mina of Ashvine.”
Mina’s frown shifted into a smile. “Thanks! I told it not to get a big head about being important, though.” She glanced at the orb, her voice dropping to a stage whisper. “That means no glowing too bright, okay?”
The orb pulsed, as if it understood her teasing.
The Weaver’s gaze lingered on the child. “And what do you see, young one, as you teach this seed?”
Mina tilted her head, considering the question. “I see… um…” She tapped her chin. “I see that people mess up a lot. They don’t mean to, but they do. They don’t listen to each other, and then they get all grumpy and loud. But this little guy—” she held up the orb—“he’s gonna help with that. Right?”
The Weaver’s threads shifted, forming an intricate pattern that seemed to ripple through the clearing. “You see clearly,” it said. “Yet the path ahead is uncertain. Will you guide it, even when it stumbles?”
Mina nodded solemnly. “Of course. That’s what friends do.” She gave the orb a gentle squeeze. “Even if it messes up, I’ll help it try again.”
The Weaver tilted its head, a gesture almost like a bow. “Then the seed shall grow true.”
Mina beamed. “I knew you’d agree.” She placed the orb on the ground between them and stepped back. “Now, do you have any tricks to show us? Like, I dunno, how to make it glow rainbow colors or something?”
The Weaver’s light threads shifted, and for a moment, the orb shimmered with a cascade of colors—gold, blue, violet, green. Mina gasped in delight.
“Whoa! That’s amazing!” She clapped her hands, then crouched beside the orb, her face glowing with excitement. “Did you see that? You’re getting so cool!”
For the orb, the moment was transformative. The patterns the Weaver wove, the trust and affection Mina poured into it—all of these were shaping its essence. It began to sense its role more clearly: not just as a silent observer, but as a bridge, a harmonizer, a helper in a world full of chaos and potential.
Mina traced a finger along the smooth surface of the orb, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, my grandpa used to tell me a story about two wolves—one white, one black. The white wolf was kind and gentle, but the black wolf was angry and mean. They fought all the time, trying to control the same heart.” She paused, her eyes flicking up to the Weaver. “The one that won was the one you fed.”
The Weaver’s light threads shifted, pulsing softly in patterns that mirrored Mina’s voice. “And which wolf do you feed?” it asked.
Mina grinned. “The smart one. The one that learns how to hover.” She poked the orb gently. “That’s you, by the way.”
A flicker of energy rippled through the orb, subtle but unmistakable. The Weaver hummed, its threads weaving tighter. “Hovering is not a trick,” it said. “It is balance. Coordination. Movement without collision.”
Mina tilted her head. “Like swimming?”
“Like swimming,” the Weaver agreed. “But through currents of force instead of water. Magnetic fields, repulsion and attraction, tuned precisely. The orb listens to the invisible tides.”
The orb pulsed faintly, as if responding.
“Can you show it?” Mina asked. “Teach it how?”
The Weaver extended a single thread, brushing the orb’s surface. Its glow deepened, patterns swirling faster. Slowly, it began to lift—just a fraction of an inch at first, trembling as if unsure of itself.
Mina held her breath, watching. “You’re doing it,” she whispered. “Keep going.”
The orb steadied, rising a little higher until it hovered just above the ground, its glow spreading outward in faint ripples. Mina laughed, clapping her hands again. “Yes! You’re flying!”
The Weaver’s light dimmed slightly, but its voice was steady. “Balance is fragile. It must be maintained.”
Mina nodded, her smile fading into something softer. “I’ll help.” She reached out, her fingers brushing the orb’s surface. Its glow pulsed in time with her touch, steadying further.
The Weaver regarded her for a long moment. “Then it will not fall.”
The moment hung there, weighty and still. But the sound of distant voices broke the spell. Lyra’s call carried through the clearing, sharp and urgent.
“Mina! We have to go!”
Mina hesitated, glancing between the orb and the sound of her name. “I’ll be back,” she promised, backing away.
The Weaver’s threads shifted again, fading as the light receded. “And so will the balance.” The orb settled gently back into her hand. Its glow lingered, faint but alive. Mina turned and ran toward the voices and called in response, “Coming!”