Slowly, the man opened his eyes and, to his surprise, they were in the same position from before leaving to the Web. It was like they had blinked and everything occurred in a time interval that was impossible to calculate.

- My dear, can you make a little more tea to accompany our friend’s stories? - Asked Yala, gently, breaking that weird sensation of just waking up for a dream. She waited for the girl to be distant enough to address the boy. - My sister was following us, but I was only able to realize that when we were close to here. - Before he could make any reaction, she completed: - She doesn’t have permission to walk among humans, don’t worry. - The witch seemed more preoccupied than she showed, but the guy knew that, if it was needed, she’d talk about the sister. - You know, to someone like me, it’s not hard to confuse the senses of a mortal. Her, for example - she pointed to the girl at the counter -, in the morning, she’ll think that everything is just a dream, unlike you.

- But we’re not sleeping. - He pondered. - Are we? - Yala smiled as an answer, while lighting another cigarette. The smoke filled the space, confusing his senses.

- No. But she will believe so. Working late at night helps with that. Why do you think she’s taking everything so naturally? Unlike you, this young lady is not prepared. But after she saw my memory, I’m not sure anymore… Today’s experience has changed her forever.

  The man remembered what Yala said when they arrived there, and realizing something, he said:

- You mentioned that you always come to this cafeteria late at night… - The witch smoked undisturbed, already predicting the course of the conversation. - How long have you fooled her senses?

- Very perceptive of you, but I don’t do anything that is too much. I cherish a lot for this young lady and there’s no other way to help her but that. I promised myself that I would never directly interfere in your lives… casual talks in your dreams are an indirect way of helping.

- And what do you talk about?

- Your individual right of knowing about things ends when the privacy of others start, my dear. Only she could tell you that. - For the first time, the guy felt uncomfortable in the presence of Yala. - What I can tell you is that her life is not easy at all, compared to yours. - She put out the cigarette and completed: - She’s coming.

  The girl placed some clean cups and a pot with jasmine tea on the table, its sweet aroma mixed itself with the rest of the smoke that came from the ashtray. He looked at her, directly. Until then, he had treated the girl in the same uninterested manner with which attendants are always treated. He noticed her delicate features, her red hair tied in a bun and the little net that held it, but what intrigued him the most was the masculine black polo shirt and the badge that said “João”. She noticed his strangeness expression and smiled.

- I’ve tried everything, but they don’t let me use my social name here. I even thought about quitting my job, but this income is important back home, you know? - She sat next to him and continued: - Some friends have suggested that I should sue them, but you know how it is, we get burnt in the market when we sue our boss. - She poured tea in all the cups and smiled at him again. - Please, continue telling your stories. They are wonderful!

  He was a little dizzy with the information, but he didn’t have time to digest it, because in his mind he heard Yala’s voice: “it’s for people like this that my existence is for. People that need courage to face a world that doesn’t accept them. Do you think you have what’s needed to follow my legacy, boy?

- Once - taking a deep breath, he fished for an old dream in his memory from when he was only twenty-something years old -, he was walking through a place totally devastated by war. The sky was heavy and projected a dense shadow, cold, on the ruins of what was  once a city. But the floor, unlike the air, was very hot, almost glowing. As I walked down the streets, I saw my hope of finding what I was looking for vanish, until I turned a corner and saw a very simple wooden house, untouched in the middle of all that destruction. It was elevated about a meter from the ground by thick trunks and, on the little staircase that led to the entrance, a black woman, sitting quietly in her white dress, peeled what I supposed were roots. Standing and leaning against the door, her husband smoked a pipe, wearing a suit as white as his wife’s dress. - The young man took a sip from his tea. Somehow, this dream messed a lot with his emotions and left his mouth very dry. - The old man ignored my presence, but his wife, without looking at me, spoke: “ya took too long... but perhaps there’s still time, a’right?”, and pointed with her knife to a glade in the middle of the destroyed hovels. She muttered something in a language I’ve never heard before and, I don’t know if it was her or just chance, a weak light beam touched the glade, where she had pointed.

- What did you do? - Asked the young lady.

- I walked there and positioned myself in the center of it. There were many marks on the ground of things that were dragged in order to clear out that small space. The old lady’s voice echoed in all directions “all is destroyed, but always possible to rebuild it is. All the pieces are in ya hands and the space’s very fertile.

- You found a couple of Pretos-velhos! Yala seemed really glad. - They’re very important figures in Umbanda, spirits of people who were cruelly enslaved, but that, happily, ascended and, today, help mortals with their love and wisdom. For some reason, they decided to point a way… I hope that you thanked them properly. - The man’s expression indicated the opposite. - For your luck, they are very patient, symbols of faith from a people that have suffered one of the biggest massacres of all humanity’s history. As soon as you can, thank them!

  He agreed with a firm nod, but his mind already divagated, trying to remember similar dreams to the one he just told.

- There are some things that always get repeated in my dreams, Yala. - he pondered for a moment before continuing. - Black and starving clouds, advancing and eating everything at their range, are one of those things. But they showed themselves for the last time, to me, in august 2012, precisely. - When she heard that, the witch's face stiffened.

- You found the opposite of Movement. Every Weaver has a mirrored image, so to speak.

- Like an alter ego? - The girl asked.

- No. It’s more complex than that. It’s literally a mirrored image, something complimentary to your existence, in order to keep balance in the Web. - Both stared at her, waiting for an explanation, and the witch, patiently, placed both hands together up high and drew a circle in the air, but instead of just stopping the hands when they got lower, she kept drawing circles that would overlap each other endlessly. - One doesn’t annul the other, instead, they complement each other. Moving my hands like this, we see a movement starting from opposite sides, but finding each other, eventually, but always overlapping each other.

  The two mortals looked at each other wrinkling their noses, clearly with no clue about what was being said, but, in a flash, the girl said, excited:

- Every light projects shadows, so, every movement also projects something?

- Yeah, that! - The witch exclaimed. - And this “something” is not your opposite, but a fundamental part of it.

- Like destruction is fundamental to nature? - inquired the man.

- Yes. Those dark clouds that that emerged at the exact moment when the Movement Weaver was born and moved in the opposite direction of his. They are not negative or bad, but they can be interpreted as the projections of an act’s consequence, do you get it? - She made a pause to have a sip from her tea, giving time for the attendant to complement.

- Are they… the inertia?

- They can be. The problem is the things that hide in them. Children, generally, very bad things… - She turned to the young man: - But keep on with your dream.

- Me, my mother and an uncle, whom I don’t have good memories with, were at a very large kitchen, with a panoramic window. The view was of a flower field and the sky was clear and blue. While I set the table, my mother was cooking lunch and my sister and my uncle were sitting at the table, waiting. Everything happened too fast: these dark clouds came from the horizon and advanced faster than my ability to warn them. When they touched the glass of the window, smithereens flew through the air with a deafening noise and the atmosphere went black.

“When I was able to see anything, I felt that we weren’t home anymore or anywhere familiar. That dark cloud hid another dimension and, when I looked around, I came across a huge ship. Many smaller ships surrounded us, but, curiously, they only captured me and my sister. As we were getting closer to the shipwreck, I noticed that its base was full of cells, some empty, some with lone prisoners. When we landed on the deck, they took us to separate places.

“I was more pissed than afraid. I still had no idea of what was that place, and as they carried me to my cell, I could only get more and more worried about my sister. I tried to distract myself by focusing on my surroundings and I noticed that, as we went down, the floor and the walls were being replaced by raw rock. At each new corridor, more guards dressed in black and with covered faces would come up.”

- Those bastards… - Yala babbled.

- Do you know them? - The young man altered himself in such a way that he got up, leaning over the table. - They appear in my dreams since I was four!

- You’ll be surprised when I tell you what they are, but, for now, calm yourself and keep on with your story, child.

- Alright… - He settled in this chair again, took a deep breath and put his attention back to the details of his dream. - Many hours passed, really a lot, and I knew that it was already night when all the prisoners were forced to sleep. To my amazement, a little after the guards had retreated, my sister appeared at my cell and freed me. When I asked how she managed to get there, she explained that she’d been taken to a very luxurious room and invited to be their ally, whoever “they” might be. While we ran through the dungeon, she explained to me their goal, but I was never able to understand or remember any word said on that occasion. When we finally reached the ship’s area where the tripulation’s dormitories were, I couldn’t not notice the decoration rich in details, chandeliers, very old paintings and a tapestry that should exceed a hundred years and belong to different times over history. I could never remember what was represented in these images...

“Close to the exit, my sister reminded me that we still needed to save two other people, a boy and a girl, trapped in the dormitories on the opposite wing from the we where. After finding them, we ran to the bow of the Ship in order to escape from that place. The whole top of the ship was a gigantic wooden courtyard  there was nothing but masts and hoisted sails. But, if you wanna know, the scariest of it all was that we were navigating in the darkness, probably, inside the dark cloud. When despair threatened to take over, we were surprised by a point of light that came up just in front of us and turned into something that looked like an egyptian god. His body disappeared as it got closer to the waist, until completely vanishing. He carried a golden spear and his face was covered by a golden helmet.  His body was black like the cloud and emanated a friendly aura. He didn’t speak, but I’m sure he warned us not to jump from the ship, otherwise, we’d fall into forgetfulness. He asked for patience, because help was on the way.”

  The attendant performed a long whistle and commented:

- I’d neve be able to dream something like this…

- Don’t underestimate yourself, dear - intervened the witch -, but, sometimes, it’s best not not have access to some things. This dream of yours… probably one of your doubles was captured by what we call The Unnamed.

- These men in black…

- Let’s say that they’re “flaws” in the Web, something that the Weavers were incapable of sewing. Entities that roam in the Inertia and do all kinds of atrocities, like this one you watched happening, my kid.

- And there’s no way to stop them? - The young lady got concerned. 

- Once they don’t belong to the Web, it’s impossible to figure out where they’re going to attack… - The witch’s look stared at an empty point on the table. - My biggest fear is that they put their hands in one of my runes. With this power… They’d have access to the web.

- And how do you know they didn’t find it yet? - Asked the man.

- For this while, all the runes are distributed in different worlds, but I can only go after them when my material body dies in order to, in such a way, reborn in my original form, or something close to it. I could even go after them now, but this body is too debilitated, kids.

- Does it mean that you need to respect the rules of each dimension you incarnate in?

- Yes, boy. And I only took so long here because… it was where I learned to exist without my horns and to directly connect to the Web. Happily, I didn’t need to prolong myself in this way in the other dimensions.

- This takes us to the story of how you got this rune back… - Provoked the attendant.

  Yala faced the lady’s look hoping that she’d deflect it, cornered, but she overflowed such an innocent curiosity that the witch felt compelled to share this story.

- My time to leave is coming, so pay a lot of attention, children, because this will be the last thing I’ll share with you all.