Suddenly, the air itself omniously draws her off her feet. A telepathic call from the Living Land itself warns her, beckons her, in its 5th dimensional hyper language: this pocket is of otherworldly origin. But where does it lead? She sits and meditates: nothing living seems to go beyond that strange null zone.
Outside the caves, she draws her steed Aya-Anda to her side. She walks the creature cautiously to the amethyst opening...and casts a pebble into the void. The rock seems to spin without regard to natural laws, but is otherwise unharmed.
A call for help! Is this real? A flaming arrow point floats before her, wavering in the non-void. Is this an audible call...or simply part of her thoughts? Yet, its urgency whispers to her. She sets up her communication device within Aya-Anda's cybernetic circuitry, to send relays back to the Dome Tribe, the quasi-technological nomads for whom she has ranged so far afield.
She takes a reading of the bizarre environment...and hears the call again. The language is an ancient Danish dialect...some of the words, she does not recognize, but its intention is clear...and now, she faces a choice. How can she simply walk into a trap without regard for her life, or those who love her? She tries again to reach some kind of animal life, with which to establish rapport. Nothing.
Her own mortality, and its place in the web of her soul group, shines brightly in her mind before the void of non-existence.
From deep within, her own spirit guides offer her the strength, to leap empty-handed into what lies ahead.
Vado Bujinka closes her eyes, a thread of silver seeming to connect her belly to the path of fate. Her own destiny awaits, as the air itself shimmers around her...and symbols, ancient runes, light the darkness of her mind. She stands atop one of three pillars...and about her, a green light to the north...and a red light, to the south...and a woman, haunting her from the blue light of the west...
A blast of wind, chill as the North Sea, makes every light about her dance...and suddenly a body of black water seems to rise all about her...she counts each breath, recognizing her own body, recognizing the essence of her own life.
She identifies symbols, tries to connect them to her memory, some rational activity to center her as she and her horse seem to sink...deep within the unconscious mind...
...and when her eyes open, beneath a dark purple sky, she smells a flower unlike any she's ever known...and hears a mighty bird, whose strange call fills her body with animal fear...
"Where..AM I?" she questions, as she counts her breaths...slowly assimilating to the byzantine geography that emerges in the twilight.