Bound by no restrictions, a string of words forms into a curious thought; “The wren dives beak first into silver waters and emerges as the sun reaches the highest point in the sky.” The sun illuminates the beads of Silver that fall from fluffed Feathers; the wren shakes the excess water and loose feathers float down into the Sea where they glint and glide prettily across her surface. 

Wind pushes the feathers and water into a graceful dance, and, through their fluid movements, birth the Sisters of the Realm of No Restriction: Taji and Plume. Plume takes note of her image through the reflection of water; she admires brown skin decorated in red and white speckling along with the length and sharpness of her nose. 

With outstretched wings and curled talons, she soars higher above the silver waters, raising her arms to command the Sea. The Sea bends to Plume’s wishes easily — taking odd, unidentifiable shapes as she floats pieces of her throughout the realm with amusement. 

Brown wings flap through the air as quickly as the heart pounds against the chest. In excitement, Plume rushes to show Taji how effortlessly the world molds. She reaches shore but has a rough landing, tumbling onto the ground. Unhurt, she jumps to her feet, ready to show her sister what she can do. 

But Taji, sitting among broken stems and squashed fruit, looks at her with a pained expression while bits of pulp and juice stain her clothes and face. Plume can’t seem to keep track of how many apologies she presents her sister with each sunset. She apologizes for illusions and games. She apologizes for recklessness and hastiness. She apologizes for being her authentic self, she notices. 

Plume observes her sister from behind a nectarine tree. She creates structure from clay and light while nurturing plants that bare more than just nectar. Plume never knew they bore more than just nectar. 

Taji harnesses thread to make the dresses and gowns she walks the earth in while Plume keeps nude. She does not understand her sister’s need to cover herself, but Plume is willing to acquiesce if it allows them to bond. When Taji learns of Plume’s interest, a smile graces a pair of full lips, painted with the juice of berries. 

The matching gowns they wear leaves Plume with a warmth in the heart of her chest. She hops over the earth just as a small bird does in excitement. She decides to stay on the land a while longer. A mistake, she realizes, when her chest soon grows cold as her sister’s green eyes overflow with pain over a small joke. The water she loves to float through the air falls, overwatering Taji’s plants.  

They can undo it. In a Realm of No Restriction, anything is possible. 

But then Taji says, “Just because you can undo it does not mean I do not experience the hurt,” even after Plume stands the plants upright and healthy once more. 

She does not understand what her sister means. This realm is changeable and malleable. Objects and ideas come and go.  

Nothing is stable. 

And Plume is tired of pretending to be as well. 

She observes her sister over the course of four sunsets, focusing on the thread and fabric she weaves and stores. Plume eyes the techniques and creates her own fabric thick and heavy. She plucks her feathers, embedding them into the folds of her new blanket. On the fifth sunset, Plume invites Taji out to the shore where silver waters splash and tickle their feet. Plume offers her sister a space in her blanket as the air is chilly tonight. Taji curls up next to Plume, and the blanket wraps around her comfortably. 

Looking out ahead of her, Plume admits to her sister that sharing the space has been challenging. 

“Would it hurt you if I ask that we divide our worlds?”  

It is odd for Taji to think about separating from her sister. Despite their opposing ideas, to separate would be loneliness. 

“But, if you feel it is the best for us, maybe we can find a solution to how we will divide the worlds,” Taji offers.  

Plume, however, already has a few ideas as she pulls what she calls the Fabric of the Sky away from her sister in one fluid motion. 

Taji’s body unravels from the blanket. She sees nothing but fabric obscuring her vision from the Realm of No Restriction. Shock takes hold of her as she begins her unwilling descent slowly, then picks up momentum like a falling meteorite. She is engulfed in flames and a terrible heat begins to course through her body. Taji hits the ground with so much force, she births a giant crater. Although pain sears through her, she stands to her feet immediately. 

With all her strength, she draws her right hand back, manifesting a large bow and arrow with a silver tip. Taji fires one. 

Then another. 

And another. 

In a fit of rage, she litters the Fabric of the Sky with holes until she can no longer do so, marking it the Night of the Shooting Stars. These rips in the fabric, The Stars, she names them, can connect to the Realm of No Restriction. Despite the connection, her powers are limited, as she realizes she cannot create in the capacity she used to. The structures take more effort to raise, and her plants do not grow as quickly as they do in the Realm of No Restriction. 

After molding the clay on a whim, Taji discovers The Stars’ influence on her creation. It breathes life into these creatures who can help her spread flower seeds and fertilize soil. Creatures who can lead. 

Creatures made in her image; with skin colored like Smoky Quartz and outlined in Tigers Eye… with fingers and toes that stretch and curl… with bright eyes and even brighter smiles. Taji adoringly showers them with much love and care. In return, these creatures — people, she calls them– work hard to make sure their world, The Astral Paradise of Taji, is sustained.  

Through The Stars, Plume can see those creatures her sister creates. Those “people”. She wants to create people too, but it proves to be challenging. When she does manage to create people, they never last long in her realm. 

Worried about being alone but she has so many friends at her side, she huffs. 

Angered by this, Plume grants the people below the Fabric of the Sky access to her realm, but not physically. When they fall asleep, she beckons their minds to wander with her and recreate what exists in Taji’s realm. After they awaken, the people grow tired and are unable to perform their duties. What’s more is that when it’s time for bed, they are unable to fall asleep. 

Taji hears of her sister’s schemes when her people complain of dreams, something she’s never heard of before. They describe silver waters and a woman with large wings, and she knows her people have been taken to the Realm of No Restriction. To protect them, Taji plucks her front tooth from her mouth and grinds it to dust. She spreads it over the soil underneath a starry night. 

From it sprouts the Descendants of Stars — beings with shades of hair between the colors of blue and green who are connected to the windows looking into the Realm of No Restriction. 

Plume peers through The Stars and, with a smile, takes a page out of her sister’s book. She plucks feathers from the wing on her left side and piles them into her hand. Like a kiss, she blows them off into the Realm of No Restriction. They float back to her in humanoid forms. Some with wings, some with more appendages than others, all beautiful. She tells them to keep this realm safe, to keep this realm hidden, and to keep it the way she wants to be remembered:

Unstructured. 

With the last of her feathers plucked, she wishes her creations well before sinking into silver waters. 

As instructed, they weave more Fabric of the Sky and stitch dreams together in hopes that they never slip away. 

These are Plume’s descendants: the Dreamweavers. 

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