Dyami and the Gobi Crystal: An Allegory and Fantasy Adventure

By MM Hoshaw

An award-winning fantasy adventure riveling The Chronicles of Narnia

Dyami is a junior angel, assigned to a planet as watcher where magical beings teach the gentle Dukán fantastic abilities. Like a reporter, she must document events onto her gobi crystal to save them for eternity. She wants to be the p

• Language: English
• Publisher: Yetzirah Press
• Release date: Aug 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798987991701

Book preview

Dyami and the Gobi Crystal

An Allegory and Fantasy Adventure

MM Hoshaw

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Yetzirah Press

Copyright © 2023 by MM Hoshaw ISBN: 979-8-9879917-0-1

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [e-mail].

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

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Yetzirah Press

First edition 2023

Contents

Dedication

Epigraph

1.The Sending

2.Radella

3.Dídean

4.The Gazing Glass

5.New Beginnings

6.Votting and the Dragon

7.Visiting the Mine

8.The Nahyim and Theli

9.Changes and Skyboards

10.Nazaat's Speech

11.Breakfast Surprise

12.Deception

13.Pastries

14.The Ouroboros

15.The Confrontation

16.Sahéle's Wonder

17.The Visitor

18.Forced to Assist

19.The First Assignment

20.King Vratt's Obsession

21.The Trident and Theli

22.The Sorcerer's Staff

23. Zehava the Fire Dragon

24.Nazaat's Dream

25.Free-DOM

26.The Mining Revolt

27.Queen Adira's Lie

28.Radella's Visit

29.Assistance

30.Preparations

31.Rescuing Nazaat

32.Nathrach Rebellion

33.The Trial

34. Fresh Start

35.Challenge One

36. Challenge Two

37.Challenge Three

38.The Return

About Author

Afterword

Acknowledgments

For my brother Mark, who views the world with child-like innocence.

Everyone, from the cruelest to the gentlest, shares two common desires: to have a meaningful life and to be remembered. Yet each of these goals requires emotional mastery. No one wants to be forgotten and discarded like smelly fish bones wrapped in old paper. — Watcher Instructor

1

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The Sending

Dyami, a junior angel, sat on the sparkling white sandy beach, listening to the sound of waves striking the shoreline. Itihasa, the vast ocean of her native planet, was a massive repository of dreams and experiences. Every myth, story, and inspiration in the universe was stored in its shimmering depths. Like everyone her age, Dyami wondered what she would be someday, as every angel had an important responsibility. For her, someday was quickly approaching.

She admired the guardian angels, standing strong and confident in their flashy uniforms, brandishing weapons at their sides. Her mother, Lana, often disappeared for weeks at a time on mysterious assignments. Dyami assumed her mother was a secret agent gallivanting across the cosmos.

During her time alone, Dyami immersed herself in stories, as she longed to understand everything. Itihasa was a wondrous library. She loved otherworldly adventures, such as exploring deep oceans or flying with the birds.

The Council of Masters monitored the galactic records and ensured they were properly maintained. They presided as justices, keeping the realm operating efficiently. They also conducted aptitude tests and placed junior angels in suitable careers.

During the athletic tryouts, Dyami had narrowly missed shooting her instructor with a bow and arrow, then tripped on a cloud while doing the obstacle course. Clearly, becoming a fighter was not her destiny.

She had joined the angelic choir because she loved music. But during rehearsals, she daydreamed about dragon stories and then lost her place during intricate melodies. The choir director quietly dismissed her. She had tried being a messenger as well, but she had struggled to memorize long passages and detailed instructions.

She didn’t mind that she had been turned away multiple times. It allowed her more time to sit near Itihasa and explore other worlds while the other junior angels studied their specialties.

The Council had sent her to watcher training, which required her to observe and record activities without interfering. They thought Dyami could handle such a simple but important role.

Watchers ventured into the cosmos, capturing everyone’s experiences in clear gobi crystals. When they returned, those records became the sands of Itihasa.

She was thrilled about learning specialized skills. She quickly mastered creating portals into other times and places, which came to her as easily as breathing. When she became a watcher, she would witness stories firsthand and understand each being’s emotional responses.

She vowed to let her mind rule her heart because she wanted to be as confident and successful as everyone else. She believed that expressing emotions like fear or sadness would make her weak and cause her to lose control, two things she hated.

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The Sending day arrived. She visited Itihasa one last time while waiting for her summons. Holding a grain of sand in her palm, she drew a portal window to examine the memories stored in the tiny shard. Graceful, iridescent fairies flew around a gigantic tree while a blue creature played a carved wooden flute. She smiled, knowing that soon she would capture such records.

The vision dissolved as someone called her name.

Dyami! It was the sweet sound of her mother. It is time for the Sending. Her ebony face radiated the glorious light that was common to their kind.

I’m coming. Before slipping her feet into her sandals, Dyami brushed the sand from between her toes. Each tiny granule contained unique memories.

Lana handed her a white cloak. Here. Wear this.

Dyami pulled the cool, silky cloak over her head. Her heart was pounding. Have they picked my assignment yet? she asked as she tucked her many long braids under the hood.

Yes. Her mother’s voice was gentle. The masters have decided. She walked to the base of the cliff that touched the shoreline. Come now, she said, climbing a narrow sloping path toward a cave opening high above their heads. They’re waiting.

Dyami’s eyes adjusted as she entered the cavern. Nine robed beings stood in a semicircle, while a tenth stood in the center. Millions of stars and constellations hovered overhead, illuminating the chamber. From that sacred space, watchers were sent and received.

A master’s face radiated a blinding light; his words were calming. Come here, Dyami. We are ready.

Confidently, she stepped into the circle.

Meet Sahéle. For two thousand years, he tracked the Dukán. He’s here to deposit his records.

He looked only twenty-one because angels did not age unless they wanted. She welcomed the sight of another watcher.

Sahéle winked. He held a huge crystal containing thousands of tiny lines and sparkles.

Is that a gobi crystal? she asked as Sahéle passed the crystal to a master. I have never seen one filled.

Yes. The master held the crystal up in the cave’s light, and hundreds of miniature rainbows flashed across the walls. He placed it into the curved stone bowl. A massive pillar descended and then struck the crystal with a thunderous grinding sound. All that remained in the basin was a pile of sparkling sand.

Another master handed Dyami an empty silk bag. Please fill this.

As soon as Dyami touched the granules, she saw flashes of curious beings laughing, singing, or dancing. A woman with delicate light blue skin and green hair sat at a potter’s wheel, crafting an orange bowl between her fingers. A purple man with tiny crystals embedded in his face played a harp and sang to a group of young ones with fair skin who were dancing in the air.

That’s amazing!

I have the best job in the universe, Sahéle said. The Dukán are a gentle, gifted people.

They look so different. Are they all the same race?

Pigment does not define them. They are born pale. As they grow, they choose their looks, which they may keep for life.

Dyami found the Dukán curious and inventive. She loved their energy, gentle nature, and creativity.

You will watch two species who have agreed to establish one society, a master said in a high tenor voice. The Dukán have advanced powers that allow them to live simple, enchanted lives. The second group are the Naga. He used tweezers to pick up a single grain of sand from a miniature silver dish and held it out to Dyami. Here. This is your first introduction to them.

The instant the shard touched her palm, the entire cave dissolved, and she found herself in a wooded area near dusk. The acrid smell of smoke burned her eyes, and she heard a commotion in the distance. Several beings raced near her in the shadows.

Where am I? She was rattled, wondering what happened. A person carrying a small chest of coins plowed right through her.

A master’s soothing voice spoke in her head. Everything is fine. You are votting, viewing outside time. These Naga records are over five hundred years old. You are invisible to them, as you’re not really there; you’re still in the cave.

Screams and wails filled the air. Dyami discovered several small buildings ablaze, as not everyone had survived the operation. A woman with piercing yellow eyes raced past her, carrying an armload of silk fabric. Dyami followed the being.

Why did the Naga attack the village? she asked telepathically.

They are a militant species, desiring wealth and power.

She followed the Naga and saw the last one board a cube-shaped vessel. Seconds later, the door closed, and it rose into the darkened sky.

Did the Naga master interstellar travel? The Dukán had no such technology.

They lacked the creativity to build their own vessels. They stole all their technology.

Are they space pirates? She had never encountered that in her reading.

They were long past, as the Naga live over twenty thousand years. A hundred years ago, they were shipwrecked on the planet Assiya and lived on their vessel deep under the Bahari Ocean. Only recently, they went ashore to create a new village for themselves and the Dukán.

The scene faded, replaced by the cave. Her mind raced, knowing the record provided vital information. Why do you need a watcher for just one village? Dyami wished she’d receive a larger assignment.

Considering how much the groups differ, this situation is unusual. The Dukán delight in serving others; the Naga wish to be served. For that reason alone, this warrants a dedicated watcher.

What if the Naga overpower the Dukán, being a warrior race? Dyami wondered. What happens if someone gets hurt? She quickly blocked anyone from reading her mind. She needed to remain calm and not show any hesitation, so she stood like a warrior prepping for battle. How many inhabitants are there?

Two hundred Dukán join thirty-three Naga. He pointed to Sahéle, who had remained quiet throughout the conversation. Sahéle will introduce you to them. Now, we must attend to a matter of business. He handed her a rolled parchment and a pen.

Dyami opened it and read the first paragraph:

I, Dyami, am commissioned to serve as a watcher over a community of Naga and Dukán, on the planet Assiya. To the best of my ability, I shall record their experiences and dreams onto the issued gobi crystal. I may use freely any watcher skills needed to perform my duties. At a predetermined date, I shall return the filled device to the Council of Masters for processing.

Dyami thought that was straightforward. She could officially practice her recently acquired skills. She looked forward to traveling through portals without adult supervision.

The second paragraph was more ominous:

I shall never violate the oath of non-interference. I shall never move objects from one time or location to another. Violating either may produce catastrophic outcomes, including death. If the Council learns of such actions, I shall be extracted, tried, and face consequences proportional to my infractions.

She quickly signed the contract and returned it to the master. She intended to follow her responsibilities perfectly, just like Sahéle.

The master handed each a package draped in silk. Here is your gobi crystal. Take heed, and use it well.

She unveiled the heavy object in her hands. It was the size of a large potato, wrapped with golden wire and hung from a long leather strap. It was luculent, with no markings, ready for service. When do I start? she asked.

As soon as you want.

Her eyes met her mother’s. She broke from the circle and hugged her mother one last time. I’ll miss you, she said with a lump in her throat, fighting back tears. I must stay strong, and mustn’t show any weakness.

Lana gave her a loving, maternal look. She heard Dyami’s thoughts but didn’t comment. I’ll miss you, too. Before you know it, you’ll be here in this cavern, requesting your next Sending.

After she stood surrounded by masters, they touched her head. Her body tingled as golden energy coursed through her. Her clothes transformed into a simple white tunic with the crystal attached to her waist. She examined her hands and was surprised they no longer glowed. She forgot she would lose her luminance when shifting to a heavier, slower density.

The masters disappeared, replaced by thin wafts of smoke. Where is everyone? she asked in a concerned voice.

We are still here. Your senses are adapting to the heavier density. It’s necessary to walk among people.

Dyami scanned the empty cave. Where’s Sahéle?

A moment later, he appeared at her side. He, too, was minus his angelic glow, and wore clothing like hers, plus a pair of bright red socks.

An unseen master waved his hand, and a rectangular shape grew to become a doorway. Beyond the opening was a small stone cottage next to a quiet river with a set of wind chimes above the door playing gentle tones. Birds sang in trees while chipmunks scurried near the river’s edge. Sahéle’s home was moments away.

She stepped into the portal. In that instant, colors and nondescript shapes shifted around her, exploding like silent fireworks. Moving her arms in the viscous liquid, she realized she was submerged deep within Itihasa. Is this a mistake? She wondered. Am I going to drown? For a minute she swam frantically, not knowing which direction led to the surface. She wondered if her assignment was ending before it began.

Feeling her insides burning for air, she had no choice and inhaled. Light and energy flowed into her. Exhausted from moving, she floated, suspended in the liquid. A massive shape brushed past her, tumbling her in its wake. It was transparent, filled with thousands of tiny sparks. She heard it say, Hello, before it disappeared.

Dyami glimpsed a light, dim and distant. She was pulled toward it, like a moth to a flame. In moments, she was standing mere feet from Sahéle’s rustic entrance as the evening sun set behind her, casting everything in a warm, inviting glow.

Sahéle emerged from the portal moments later. He studied her, assessing her reactions.

She felt an eerie silence inside and realized her connection to the angelic realm was severed. Experiencing loss for the first time, she bit her lip to keep her from grieving the separation. The pain in her mouth overshadowed that in her heart. I must be strong.

Another sensation welled within her, which was difficult to put into words. Before, she had been as large as the moon. Now she felt she had been stuffed into a thimble. No one told her how constricting it would be to be in physical form. She felt disconnected, tiny, and weak, which brought her to her knees.

Sahéle anticipated her response and helped her to her feet. You need to rest. The experience is exhausting the first time.

Dyami struggled to stay upright. Why didn’t anyone warn me about that?

Sahéle balanced her weight as they walked. We must discover it on our own. It’s difficult to prepare someone for the transition. His voice brightened. How was it for you, passing through Itihasa?

That was my favorite part. I learned I could breathe while submerged. She paused. Something else happened when I was there.

Sahéle raised an eyebrow. What was that?

Something brushed past me.

What did you see? he asked, surprised.

It’s hard to explain. There was no form. It was just millions of tiny swirling sparks.

Sahéle nodded. Congratulations. You have met Theli. He rarely presents himself.

Theli? Who’s he? Dyami yawned, straining to stay awake.

An etheric dragon. He visits Itihasa, scoops up life seeds, and then deposits them to form new worlds. You couldn’t see him just as you couldn’t see the masters.

How do you know Theli? No one told me about him.

We met some time ago. He was intentionally vague.

Dyami frowned in curiosity. When did you meet him?

I encountered him the same way you did, in Itihasa. He helped her enter the cottage.

She had many questions, but her immediate thought was her physical condition. Why aren’t you exhausted?

He shrugged. I let the current carry me to the other end.

What was it like passing through her? Her legs felt wobbly.

Sahéle gave her a sideways glance. The first time I went through Itihasa, I held my breath and passed out. When I woke up, I discovered I was lying in a manure pile. It was not a pleasant experience. He noticed how weak she was and led her to a small bedroom.

She grinned, learning that she had fared better than Sahéle. Plus, she had encountered a dragon. Both were signs of things to come. Before she drifted off to sleep, she recorded her first memories onto her gobi crystal.

2

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Radella

Awakened by cardinals, Dyami opened her eyes. Golden sunlight flooded her room, and her stomach rumbled unexpectedly. To begin her day, she stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and stretching. Her head felt like it was filled with cobwebs, and she heard Sahéle talking in the distance.

Fair day! Thank you. Sahéle entered the kitchen and removed a checkered covering from a basket. Steam and pastry smells filled the air. How lovely! They made a dozen blueberry scones. He carried a steaming pot to the kitchen counter. Fair day, Dyami. Could you put them on a large plate?

Dyami inhaled the sweet fragrances and followed his instructions. Who made these?

The bakers, of course. Every morning they make sweets for the entire village as gifts.

The table had four place settings with four chairs. What’s all this?

He dumped two spoons of herbs into the teapot. We have guests this morning. He covered it with boiling water.

Brushing her tunic, she smoothed out wrinkles, having slept in her clothes. She wanted to be presentable. Visitors? Here?

Sahéle carried a serving tray with cups to the table. I often have tea with Sheema, the Dídean sextant.

What’s a sextant?

A spiritual leader. Villagers bring their questions to her. She finds teachers anywhere in the universe and helps each develop their talents.

How do teachers get here? The logistics sounded incomprehensible when it involved other planets.

Sheema creates a portal, bringing teachers to the village.

Dyami frowned. Sextants have watcher powers? I thought we were the only ones to travel through portals.

Sextants can move between places at the current moment; we can go anywhere in time.

Why are there four chairs? You only mentioned one visitor.

Sheema is bringing the sextant who will join you in the new settlement.

Dyami was fully awake now. Have you met this other person?

No. I believe she arrived last night. I decided we could share breakfast before visiting town.

Dyami looked puzzled. You said you often have tea with Sheema. Why is that?

We’re each village outsiders. She was appointed their spiritual guide and needs to live separately. As you know, watchers are similar, so we naturally became friends. I believe you two may form a similar relationship.

They heard knocking on the front door.

Sahéle, fair day! someone called in a friendly voice.

Sahéle walked briskly through the house. There they are now.

Dyami followed, wanting to meet both. In particular, she liked the idea of a new friend.

Two women were standing on the stoop. One was tall and appeared to be in her early thirties. She wore her lengthy golden hair neatly braided and sculpted like a crown and a long sky-blue dress. She looked beautiful and wise—the ideal sextant.

Fair day! Sheema said as she embraced Sahéle.

Sahéle conducted the introductions. Dyami, this is Sheema, our sextant.

Dyami found it curious that Sahéle referred to Sheema as our sextant, not because it sounded possessive, like saying my hat or my shoes. Rather, it was endearing; she was a leader worthy of respect.

Fair Day, Dyami! Sheema said with a hearty embrace. How lovely! I’m certain you are perfect for the job. Her words were sincere and supportive.

Thank you, Dyami said, noticing a girl who was at least three heads shorter than Sheema.

Sheema stepped back. Dyami, let me introduce Radella. Radella, this is Dyami, your watcher.

Dyami greeted Radella enthusiastically and noticed they both were the same age. Radella was short and heavy set and wore a dated dark blue dress with white polka dots. She had thick, long ginger hair, worn in braids, and tons of freckles.

Fair day! Radella said with a broad, sincere smile.

Fair day! Dyami replied. However, she was confused. The Dukán could change their appearance. Most chose an athletic form, toned and muscular. Radella was short and plump and looked like she didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. Under her stubby fingernails were traces of dirt.

She probably dug potatoes and didn’t bother washing her hands, Dyami thought. She doesn’t look like a sextant to me. Dyami was quick to judge Radella, a stark contrast to Sheema.

Dyami didn’t know sextants were telepathic. They needed that to communicate with magical beings.

Carrots, Radella said. I was digging up carrots, not potatoes.

Dyami blushed. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have judged you.

That’s fine. It’s true I can change my appearance. I could be taller, thinner, and more beautiful, but I’m not here for attention. I want others to be comfortable with me, so I can help them.

Dyami felt her face flush. Sorry if I offended you. I guess I didn’t make a first good impression.

No offense taken. I tried several forms before picking this one. Radella winked. Besides, wouldn’t you prefer someone who wasn’t afraid to get their hands dirty than someone beautiful who couldn’t sweep their own floor? She glanced at Sheema. Of course, I wasn’t meaning you.

Sheema gave her a warm, elegant smile. I know you didn’t.

I wanted to be approachable and unassuming. Radella lowered her voice. Do I look as I intended?

Oh yes. I think your appearance is brilliant, Dyami said. When did you arrive in the village?

"Last night. I began training when