It was always like this...startling...whenever Dera completed the merging with another. It required that she lose her identity in order to open the cosmic space and returning always left her feeling slightly ruffled...as if she had returned to her body too abruptly and there was a moment of surprise as her cells completed the orbit and folded back into time and space. Always it was surprising...even though this had been her work for millennia and, before that, she had spent millennia preparing for her role as priestess of Gaia.
Sometimes she missed walking on the Earth...she missed the rhythms of Gaia pulsing through her, moving her to open her mouth and let the song flow through her. She missed the movement of her body dancing beneath the stars on a wind swept shore...feeling the shifting sands undulating to the flow of her movements, the movements of the Earth, and the pull of the moon tides.
But these were fleeting moments...Whenever she joined with the soul of another, mending the fabric of wholeness, there was enough sensation, enough emotion to satisfy ten lifetimes and it was always unique, like snowflakes forming in exquisite patterns.
Dera was particularly good at folding into the spaces of no space...those moments when someone is faced with the certainty of death, the cessation of their organization and knows this...is aware that there is no place to go. It is these moments that Dera had trained the young priestesses to watch for as they monitored the rolling wave front of Gaia, seeking within the discipline of their Order just those moments, those collapsing wormholes in the soul space through which dimensions dissolve and lives are altered in inexplicable ways.