Another night dreaming of a place he’d never been, couldn’t identify, and so-so-so desperately wanted to find. Djilbay jo Bikajo was tired. Yet more teasing hints from Irojaku jo Faluji, Sundancer Orange, giving him glimpses of where Her Kawakona would be. Djilbay knew he was destined to find Sundancer’s Kawakona, Her glorious herald long ago foretold. He, Djilbay, would lead the Kawakona to waking their Drazoen. Though, that was a phrase he’d stopped using when a teacher had upbraided him: we all belong to Hunanjanno jo Bikajo, it is what your name means, boy! Only we seekers have taken the jo Bikajo name, do not disgrace Her speaking of belonging to another.

            Djilbay wasn’t perfectly sure, but he thought Windweaver White would not be so angry that he’d been chosen by Her sister. He was still of the jo Bikajo line, seeker ship born and feathered, but he was the one meant to find the orange Kawakona rather than the white of their goddess. Their prophecy said Mikanjo seekers would reveal all nine heralds, one for each Drazoen, and he wouldn’t be swayed from his conviction he was meant for Sundancer Orange’s work.

Bringing him back around to the weary state he found himself in this morning. The dream visions She sent him were never nightmares, but they left him yearning for someone he couldn’t see in a place he didn’t know. Based on last night’s images he had an idea where to start, for once.

            “Mama,” he said at breakfast, putting his hand on his mother’s wrist. Mama Lealli was the more sympathetic of his mothers and might hear him out with this wild hope he had. She was born on the Mikanjo planet Bankiri, rather than this ship, and had always championed his dreams of seeking. Mami – his ship-born mother, Selafina – had never been as confident in his future as the Kawakona seeker. Even though he’d declared himself to be The One from his earliest days.

           Warm brown eyes traced his features lovingly. “You are tired, fledgling. More dreams?”

            Djilbay flushed a bit at the reminder he was no longer a child, but a young man with wings grown. Not to their full size yet, and even now he ached from learning to hold them in compact formation. He couldn’t imagine them bigger and heavier, but they’d keep growing a while yet. Many a cup or touchpad had already suffered due to his early lack of control and muscle spasms, but his sister assured him it had been the same for every Mikanjo. Vailillia always knew how to make him feel better; older and smarter, that was his sister.

            “Yes, mama,” he finally replied to her. “Last night was the most real it has ever felt! Have you heard of a planet that is mostly water, filled with thousands of swimming and floating creatures? Where the lands are filled with even more animals that prowl and screech and roar? And wild greenery! Forests, grasslands, jungles, so much variety it makes me dizzy remembering my dream.”

            Lealli frowned. “This sounds like something new. Several species have parts of these things, but not all in one place. That I know of, I should say. We’ll ask your mami because she’s been on the Eternidad far longer than I have. Maybe a traveler spoke of this planet.”

            Mama referred to how seekers made enough money to keep seeking: ferrying travelers through the Aoni, reaching nearly every peopled destination a ship could. The practice also enabled them to seek Kawakonas in all developed places. Now that the Eternidad was the last of the Seeking Ships, they had to traverse all corners of the Aoni.

Djilbay briefly lamented the loss of the other eight ships, attrition due to loss of faith. While the Eternidad continued to sail through space, performing its goddess-assigned duty, the other eight ships languished on Bankiri. The seekers who had faltered in their quests and left the ship were back on land, but denied the jo Bikajo names they’d had. They’d had to build their lives from scratch, couldn’t remain in frequent contact with any relatives on ships, and experienced both welcome and scorn from planet-born Mikanjo when they rehomed.

A mere one hundred and eighty seekers remained on the Eternidad, clinging to the command Hunanjanno jo Bikajo had given to Djilbay’s distant ancestors: find the Kawakona, the ones who will bring the Drazoen back to the Aoni. So few seekers left, and, he’d begun to fear, soon to be less. Mami’s budding disbelief had been obvious for many tuigs, mama’s less pronounced but growing. Vailillia told him three sals ago that she’d heard them discuss leaving. Djilbay and Vailillia would be orphaned, left behind.

            All of which led him to be wary of involving mami in talk of Djilbay’s vison. He still believed to the core of his Mikanjo soul, and didn’t want the gifts from Sundancer Orange tarnished by anyone’s doubts. “Maybe we could ask Wiremu? As a co-captain he would have spoken to all travelers. And if he doesn’t know, we could ask him to consider taking the Eternidad into uncharted areas.” At his mama’s skeptical look he added in a pointed tone, “He still believes, as strongly as I do.”

            “You really do, don’t you?” Mama smiled fondly and stroked his face.

            “I do. And I know in every filament of my feathers the time of Kawakona is finally here. Twenty-six generations of seekers have passed, and I know this is the moment. If I can just get to where my Kawakona is, I know I will find them”

            Lealli sighed softly, then finished off her cup of strong, black nropita. “Let’s find Wiremu, then. Anything for my dreamer. My newly fledged boy who wants to change the Aoni.”

            Djilbay jumped up, his wings uncontrollably flexing in his excitement, swiping the breakfast table clean.