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Sun Weaver. Part IV in the Rings of Fire Series.

For an eternity Giiwedin lived in the small circle house at the edge of the river. Invisibly cloaked to most humans, the river connected all the universes. It flowed from a single origin deep in the cedar forest. The source of the river imbued the water with the life force that binds everything, everywhere, together.

She and Kiitag built the house. The frame was constructed from long fallen branches of the most ancient of the cedars. Like a fine basket, it was covered in layers of birch bark and long braided grasses intricately woven together. At the top of the conical shaped roof was an opening that let in the sky.

She kept a flower and herb garden just outside the front door. The scents of jasmine, sage, rosemary, and mint, mixed with the aromas of the forest and clean river water. Emitting a sense of warmth and love around her home.

Inside, jute mats covered the earthen floor. Neatly hung along one wall were baskets filled with dried herbs, flowers, berries, and magical spices. A sunken hearth pit sat in the heart of the house. Just beyond it, weathered wood shelves reached high towards the roof. Dividing the house into two living spaces.

One side was for greeting guests and sleeping. On the other, sat a weaver's loom with an angled table attached to it. Controlled with foot pedals, treadles raised and lowered the top to different angles. Allowing threads to evenly flow from a spindle wheel into the loom.

On the table top Giiwedin generated the harmonic frequencies that would eventually become time. She spun them onto a spindle, forged glyphs from fire, and wove them together into threads. Like a spider's web, the threads would eventually spread out from the cultivated soil of Giiwedin’s garden, reaching into all the universes.

Long ago, when the house was new, Kiitag planted the garden. He set large boulders of moonstone within it. The stones offered seating around a small hole dug deep into the ground. In this pit Giiwedin kept a fire hot enough to open the divide between Nagamon and all the other universes. Including Bezhig: the outer dimension she came from. She called the hole the Evercross. If needed, she could use it to open the gate at the end of the pine trail. But that would cause a disruption in Ahki’s gravity. So it was only to be used for the greatest of emergencies. She never had opened that gate, although she wanted to. Just to search for those who went missing so many eons ago, during the war. Just to see Kiitag one more time. If only from the ethers of invisibility.

Sun weaving is a craft learned. Taught only to those whose life force was cast from the original sun of Bezhig. Weaving time is a skill passed down through genetic coding. The code can only align within an immortal sun; and they were born only once in an infinity. Giiwedin carried the code.

This was her bliss. The weaving of suns. Her whole heart went into each one. They were her prayers, her love, and her connection to the greater universes above, below, and all around her. As she wove the frequencies into time. She connected her heart to the center of the light. Entwining her knowledge and all the knowledge of the sun weavers who came before her, into the lifeforce of the infant suns. Finally, she centered the light inside where it would grow into a whole heart.

Giiwedin spent her summer days in the garden, rolling the threads of time into small balls of light. When the balls were complete she buried them in the soil surrounding the Evercross. At midwinter she would begin weaving them into suns. By summer solstice they would all be complete.

As the vernal equinox approached, long thin lines of light would appear in the sky at early dawn. The lines came from deep within Nagmon’s universe. They dipped low over Giiwedin’s house and then back up through the sky. Dropping down into the human realm and up into the space beyond, spreading out in every direction. As each sun was completed, she attached it to the light lines. In midsummer, when the entire cluster was complete, the suns moved along the lines, disappearing into the vacuum between the universes. Finding their ways into galaxies, creating solar systems, and lighting the night for the planets below.

Giiwedin sat listening to the sound of the river. The water was raging, swollen by the first snowmelt. She was deep in the sun weaving ritual when she saw double lightning crack open the gate at the end of the pine trail. The rays of a pulsar lit up the forest. She quickly placed the young suns in a hole in the ground, covered them with cedar leaves and ran towards the gate.

Nenoo saw Giiwedin before she saw him. He flew at her in his most iridescent form, overjoyed to be home. He circled her head a thousand times and flew into her hair. For a moment he was tangled in it and Giiwedin laughed loudly. Sparks of light rose from her hands and engulfed him as he fluttered around her. Then she saw Lotus, in her full form.

A warrior come home.

“Sister!” Giiwedin burst out in the harmonic tone that was the voice of her heart. Hugging her so hard that Lotus wasn’t sure she would be able to maintain her physical shape. It had been so very long since she had taken her true form.

Lotus looked directly into Giiwedin’s eyes to make sure she was not dreaming. Tears poured down her face and in a quiet voice she said.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

“Nor did I,” said Giiwedin.

She held both of Lotus’s hands in her own and asked,

“What's happened?”

“There is no time, we must make the offerings for the oracles,” Lotus said.

Giiwedin’s eyes narrowed,

“Which oracles,” she asked.

“The black with white spots. You know the time has come. That’s why you sent Nenoo, isn't it.”

Giiwedin was silent. Sunlight filtered through the cedars and the nature spirits glittered in the daylight. Unnoticed by Lotus or Nenoo, she removed the spell that cloaked the pathway to her home.

Rings of Fire copyright ©2025 By Rachel Tribble™