The Voice of the Doma
---
Deffto floated silently beneath the lake's golden glow,
the reflection of his dream-self still staring at him.
"I tried… everything…"
His voice trembled.
Soft.
Broken.
"I practiced the Fesutor every single day."
"For hours… every day."
"All for this day…
so I could be worthy to stand in the circle."
"But I couldn't do it."
"Maybe… maybe I really am useless."
He closed his eyes.
The reflection dissolved.
The lights dimmed.
And his heart sank.
---
The Push of Grace
Without warning,
the Doma moved.
With a swift, silent burst,
it glided forward,
nudged Deffto gently,
and lifted him up onto its back.
Before Deffto could even breathe,
the Doma shot upward
out of the lake,
out of the realm of light,
and into the open air of Setali Beutell.
With a glowing leap,
it launched Deffto back toward the ground
where he landed on soft, radiant blue soil.
Deffto stood up shakily.
He turned.
And then…
he heard it.
---
The Voice That Could Cleanse a Soul
It wasn't a whisper.
It wasn't a growl.
It was a voice that felt like it had existed since the dark universe
A voice so pure…
so ancient…
that tears welled in his eyes just from hearing it.
It was the voice of the Doma.
Speaking in Deffto's own language.
---
"You could not succeed... because your focus is misaligned."
"Every being holds a unique spark .... a sacred ability."
"And only you can uncover it… and nurture it."
"You must stop trying to be what they want."
"Start seeing what you already are."
---
And then…
Without another word,
the Doma dissolved
into millions of glowing spheres,
each one a whisper of its spirit
fading into the wind.
---
Deffto dropped to his knees.
The world was silent.
But in his mind…
the Doma's voice echoed like a sacred hymn.
---
The Return
Time passed.
Night had fallen.
Or what Setali called "night"
when the trees glowed deep blue,
casting a mystical hue over the ground.
Deffto walked slowly through the quiet paths of crystal and vine,
until he reached his home.
There, waiting by the entrance,
stood Hobo Nor Sibion.
As soon as he saw Deffto,
he ran forward.
"My son!"
"Where were you?
We waited… we searched… for hours."
Behind him, a gentle figure emerged.
Hobo Norl Fiton,
his mother.
She embraced him tightly, her eyes wet.
"We looked everywhere, my child…
we were so afraid."
Then, suddenly…
her expression shifted.
She pulled back just slightly,
and her voice grew soft.
Solemn.
---
"Deffto…"
"Did… a Doma come to you?"