The eagle spread her wings around my head and listened me, not to me. I could listen her too. The drone, that conversion of all sound purely and sincerely cast to the wide universe since the cradle of time, at once, it grew broader as the eagle's song sang to me. She gifted me with oversight and the power to destroy boundaries. Even between beginning and ending. The shifting started, and as the moon, not our moon, a moon sized as a star, moaned her howl, feathers turned to fur and claws to paws, the wolf now stood before me. His eyes cried their loneliness to mine, its face marked with the only wounds that could be inflicted by lack of those to wound them. He listened and sang me with the sorrow that the eagle's majesty could not retain. His glimpse was the one that touched me the deepest. I felt like I did the same to him. The aggression in his gestures kept us apart, but our souls matched and mixed, never again would either be sole wolf or sole human, for ever the very border in between.
The wolf grew a mane and his claws bursted out of sown paws, the raging lion was before me. He flamed me, he made my arms feel like no shot from Orion's bow could break them; my legs stand with the bounding of Hercules' gateways; my fingers bolt as olympic lightnings. His song was one of change. He triggered my soul and set it in motion with such fire and explosion that I was burdened to shapeshift to eternity, while eternity twisted to never match me. The transgressor. Only after infusing me with the certainty and pride of true spirited kings and humility and honesty from pure hearted artisans did the lion turned his back on me, and like a whirlwind, turned into the entity that it really represented. As it hugged and destroyed me, the drone suddenly vanished, only to return when the desert's storms calmed and the razoring hurricane dismantled. I was flesh once again.
At last, the four riders came out of the galactic farthest end and presented themselves to me, in a silence that was only broken by the drone's onipresency. Hooded, their mufflers seemed more like the braces of destiny than mere cloth. All equal, and yet irradiating these purely contrasting harmonies that could shape entire worlds. I bowed as they took word, one by one. "The world has rocked you, my son, and now it is time to rock it back"; "You will fly from the highest cliff and hover, hover where all of us downfell"; "You will break the bound between matter and ether, you are the matter that creates, instead of transfigurating, and never again will harmony mean staticness"; "We gave you rage, power, emotion, abstraction, the raw, the polished, the combined, the separated, the all and nothing, humanity itself, and now you only have to give us the universe in return". I knew who they were by their faces. Father, God, Rover and Mage. Their blessing was now my endurance. Back to existence.
And was it all just a dream? Sparks of infinity, may you light my way. Everlasting. Ever.