Happy Friday, Enjoy the new graphic for Children of Legend as I kick your Leisure up a notch!
Chapter #5: Holistic and Connected
April 8th, 2020-CE
A despondent eleven-year-old walked into the Holistic and Eclectic shop in the downtown area of town. She had done this every day for years but in the past two months, since her mother passed away, she lacked the usual excitement that she used to. When she opened the door, she saw her grandmother, her black hair had started to fade to the same gray that the young girl’s eyes had become in recent years. She was talking to a young woman with brown hair and green eyes. The eleven-year-old recognized her right away, “Hi grandma, hi Sylvia,” The girl greeted with a sigh and walked to the back of the store and sat her backpack on the floor next to the stool she sat on.
“Hi Angela,” Sylvia smiled, “I was telling your grandmother about something interesting that happened yesterday. Apparently, a telepath is going to teach my son how to control his telepathy.”
“That’s nice,” Angela stated as she glanced around the shop. It seemed so empty without her mother there. She would have thought that after the last couple of months, she would have gotten used to it but there was a hole that could never be filled.
“I was going to suggest that maybe it would do the boy some good to go through some druid meditations as well,” her grandmother suggested, “What do you think about that, sweetie?”
All three of the people in the room had been through the process of learning how to meditate in the fashion her grandmother suggested. The process was fairly simple; start off by laying on a flat sturdy surface like a wooden or stone floor and relax. Eventually that will not feel so uncomfortable. After that was the “red dot” treatment. The process was sitting in a wooden chair with no padding and staring at a folded sheet of paper with a red dot on it. The red dot would be the universe and one would think of nothing else aside from the red dot.
While the first part wouldn’t take a lot of time, the second part did. That was because a person couldn’t simply stop thinking about everything during their time with the red dot. If they thought about something else, they would have to trace back the source of the thought and address it before proceeding with their attempt at meditation.
Sylvia chuckled and grasped her triskal in a circle pendant, “I don’t think he could sit still long enough during the second phase of learning how to meditate. I would like to see him try. Maybe knowing Angela is telepathic would entice him to try.”
Angela glanced up. She tried to envision a young telepathic child sitting there, trying to ignore everything around him and concentrating on that damned red dot. It was hard enough for a normal person to focus on the red dot. She was a telepath and could hear the thoughts of those immediately around her which made it harder. She couldn’t imagine someone with the power that Sylvia had trying to focus on the red dot. Yet, Sylvia had managed to do just that. She wondered if her progeny could also manage it.
Before she knew it, both of the older women were glancing at her, “Do you have any advice for the junior member?” Her grandmother questioned.
Angela blushed and shrugged, “What always helped me with the voices in the beginning was playing music loud. Invest in a good MP3 player and ear phones. Let him walk around playing his favorite music at full blast.”
“I don’t want him to go deaf,” Sylvia shook her head.
“Better than him going crazy from the voices,” Angela protested softly, “What did you do when you were his age?”
“Played music at full blast,” Sylvia stated in response with a flush rising on her face.
“What does a seven-year-old listen to?” Her grandmother questioned in response?
Angela shrugged, “Give him a copy of my library. It has punk, goth, metal, rock, new age, pretty much everything except for country and rap. There will have to be something in there that he likes.”
Sylvia shrugged, “Between your library and mine, there has be something there for him. I will take it.” She walked over to the incense rack and pulled some lavender incense rods from their holder, “And I will take some of this too. I feel that smell tends to help me more than most things anymore.”
* * *
It was late at night when it felt like something had crashed down on her bed. She sat up and glanced around. There was nothing there. Slowly, Angela rose and crossed to the door for the light switch. As she crossed, she glanced to the window. There was a dark image sitting in it glancing back at her with one gray eye and one blue eye. She screamed but she found her voice didn’t carry. She also noticed that she did not have a reflection in the mirror, “what’s going on?” she asked, “What are you?”
“A spirit, not much different than you,” the thing in the mirror spoke with a feminine voice. It pointed back to her bed.
Angela glanced over to her bed and found that she was still sleeping in it. She shook her head to clear it but found that she was still resting soundly in her bed, “What happened to me? Did I die?”
“In my time, we called it spirit flight. I believe your mystics now call it astral projection.” The darkness in the mirror stated in response. “Spirit flight is a dangerous thing to do without adequate wards in place. At the moment, you are anchored to your body by only the flimsiest of Nwyfre. Someone could cut that string and you would find it hard to get back to your body. Your body would live on but you would be lost to find your way back to it.”
“Are you here to harm me?” Angela shivered as she asked.
“On the contrary, I am here to teach you. Your first lesson, you need to assemble a set of spirit stones. They will aide you in spirit flight, provide you with an anchor and a way back if you are ever severed or lost from your body, and ward you from unwanted spirits near your body and in your living space.” The spirit replied.
“If you are an unwanted spirit?” Angela questioned.
“Then the stones will keep me away but I don’t think I am an unwanted spirit,” it replied.
“What makes you say that?” Angela asked in reply.
“You summoned me. It must have been something you heard in the day,” The spirit answered.
Angela thought about it for a moment. She didn’t think anything particular would have caused her to reach out to a spirit. She had been morose and depressed since her mother passed. If anything, she would have wanted to see her mother again. She would have preferred it would have been her mother in the mirror as opposed to whatever was facing her now. Her mother never learned how to be a druid like her grandmother. Her mother also did not possess psychic abilities like her grandmother. The power seemed to have skipped a generation. Her grandmother told her that it happened in their family. Angela’s great grandmother was normal also. The talent was taught to every other generation for the past six generations now.
The only thing that was different about this day was Sylvia talking about possibly having her son learning how to meditate like she and her grandmother meditated. She wondered if that somehow called the spirit. She didn’t know why that would have called the spirit. She actually thought it would have been funny to see a powerful psychic with out of control powers try to sit still and stare at a red dot for an hour and think of nothing else.
It was when she really focused on it that she could see what the spirit was talking about. Angela took to meditation easier than most children did. Her psychic powers were more sedate than those of Sylvia. While she revered the woman, and had to admit that she found the young mother good looking to the eyes, she felt like she was being measured up to against her son. Her son who had powerful psychic powers. He couldn’t control them and one resort was to train him how to control them using a family technique.
The Spirit offered her the same thing that was offered to the boy and no one could tell the spirit no except for Angela. This gave her a power over her destiny that no one else had. She nodded, “What spell do I need to cast to make these stones?”
“Silly girl, you aren’t a witch or a mage. You are a druid by training, you are a shaman! These aren’t things that you enchant with a spell and force your impression upon the world. These are tools that provide a focus. With repetition and patience, they will become spirit stones. You just need three ordinary stones.”
“Which stones?’ Angela asked.
“You will need a lump of coal as a base, silver as a middle step and gold as the top step. Think of them as stepping stones. Once you get them. Set them in three separate spots in your room and do not move them. They will serve as a foundation. If you keep them in their mind in order of black, silver, gold as bottom, middle, and top then you will be able to attain flight easier and return to your body easier. They will also start to influence spirits to leave your space,” The spirit explained.
“Coal shouldn’t be too hard to get,” Angela stated, “But the gold and silver are a problem. They are rare elements and hard to get. Gold is very expensive.”
“They don’t have to be those elements but they won’t have the same effect immediately. It will take longer for them to have influence. You can substitute Iron pyrite for gold and a silvery metal for the second stone. If you have trouble finding coal you can also grab obsidian or another black stone. Just remember that since you moved away from a primary element that you won’t have the same effect immediately. You can also paint ordinary rocks but the effect will be weaker. Just something to remember if you get in a pinch someday,” The spirit suggested.
“I will think about that,” Angela nodded.
“Think about this when you think about that,” The spirit replied, “I will not return until you get the stones and set them up. If you want me as a teacher then you will have to follow my instructions.” With those words, the spirit snapped its fingers and the entire world went dark.
Angela opened her eyes and sat up in her bed again. It was dark just like the last time. She raced to where she was just standing and glanced back at the mirror. Whatever was in the mirror was now gone. She glanced back at the bed and did not see herself there. She raced to the light switch and flipped it on. She glanced around and couldn’t find any sign that anything had been in her room. She would have to go downstairs to talk to her grandmother in the morning. Angela had to get the stones. That was, if it wasn’t a trap and her grandmother could get her the stones of correct color.