27. Unraveling
27
Unraveling
Ren
I settled into the worn leather armchair, the warmth of the cottage fire at my back. Steam curled from the forgotten tea beside me as I watched Rowan prepare, their movements unhurried and deliberate.
"Let's start with something simple," they said, their voice soft as morning mist. "Just focus on your breath for a moment, and let the rest of the world fade away."
As Rowan reached for their satchel, Eko materialized beside them, each of her nine tails delicately holding different magical implements from a silver bell to crystals and various herbs. The familiar arranged them with precise care, creating a pattern that somehow made perfect sense even though I couldn't explain why. “Eko helps me align the energies,” Rowan explained, noticing my fascination. “She can see the patterns of emotional energy even more clearly than I can.”
As Rowan held up the bell, it made a soft, harmonious chime that seemed to fill the room with a gentle vibration. The sound was calming, almost otherworldly, and I found myself drawn into it, my mind growing quieter with each chime.
“Listen to the sound,” Rowan continued, their voice steady, “and let it help you clear the fog. Let it draw your attention inward, to the center of yourself.”
I closed my eyes, the sound of the bell echoing in my chest, soothing the chaotic thoughts that had been swirling there. It was like the chimes had a weight to them, pulling me into a stillness I hadn’t known I needed.
Rowan then set the bell aside and reached into their satchel again. This time, they pulled out a small, soft feather that was light as air, with delicate edges. They held it between their fingers, the feather gliding in the air with a movement that was both graceful and deliberate.
“Now,” they said, their voice lowering slightly, “I’m going to read your energy. The feather will help guide me, feel the way the energy shifts around you. I won’t touch you, but I want you to imagine the space between us widening, as if you and I are connected by a thread, a fine line of energy. Just trust the process, Ren.”
I nodded, my breath slowing as I focused on the feather. The air around me seemed to hum, faintly, as if charged with an unseen current. My body felt lighter, almost as if it were floating, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it felt to let go, to release the weight of everything pressing on me.
Rowan moved the feather gently through the air, their fingers following its path as it swayed back and forth. The movement felt hypnotic, like a slow dance between their energy and mine. As they did, I felt an odd pull inside, like something deep within me was being coaxed to the surface, uncovered.
“I can feel the weight of the energy around you,” Rowan said quietly, their voice like a soft murmur. “There’s tension, especially around your chest and shoulders. Some fear, some doubt. But there’s also strength, latent, waiting to come forward.”
The pressure in my chest eased slightly, the tension softening as Rowan's voice seemed to fill the space between us.
“The feather is picking up the flow of your energy,” Rowan explained softly, their eyes meeting mine. “We can guide it, loosen it, let it move freely. All the old imprints, the weights you carry, they don’t need to stay. You can let them go.”
The room seemed to grow still, save for the faint sound of the feather's movement. I focused on my breath, on Rowan’s voice, and the gentle motion of the feather that swayed in the air as if it were brushing against the very fabric of my thoughts.
“Let the energy move,” Rowan whispered. “Let it be released.”
The room hummed with the quiet power of Rowan’s words, like an invisible current sweeping through the space between us. I breathed in deeply, the rhythm slow and deliberate, feeling the weight of each breath anchor me further into the moment. My mind was still racing, but the fog was starting to clear, as if the sound of the bell and the gentle dance of the feather were unraveling the knots in my psyche I hadn’t realized were there.
Eko moved silently around us as Rowan worked, her nine tails weaving through the air in synchronized movements that seemed to guide and strengthen the energy flow. Occasionally, one of her tails would brush against my arm or shoulder, each touch feeling like a gentle reassurance.
Rowan’s gaze never wavered, their eyes calm but focused as they guided the feather in slow, deliberate arcs. Each movement felt more like an invitation than a command, like Rowan was offering me the space to release whatever I had been holding onto without fear of judgment.
I felt a warmth spread through my chest, almost like the tension that had been there for so long was finally loosening. My shoulders, which had been so tight just moments before, felt less burdened, as though they could relax without the weight of expectation or fear.
“You’re doing well,” Rowan said softly, their voice like a balm to the rawness I hadn’t realized was there. “Let go of the fear, Ren. Let it flow out, like a river washing away everything it doesn’t need.”
The air around us seemed to shift, thick with something that felt like energy, but not the kind of oppressive, heavy magic I was used to. This was lighter, freer. It was like I could feel myself becoming untangled, all the places where my mind and emotions had twisted together slowly loosening under Rowan’s guidance.
I exhaled, a long, drawn-out breath that felt like the first one I’d taken in ages. As I did, I could feel something else stir, something deep inside me that had been locked away, too afraid to come out. But now, under the calm pressure of Rowan’s feather and the sound of their voice, it felt safe.
“There’s strength in you, Ren,” Rowan said, their voice still soft but steady. “You don’t have to carry the weight of all that doubt and fear anymore. You’ve carried it for so long, but it doesn’t have to be your burden.”
I opened my eyes, staring at the feather as it swayed gently through the air. My breath had steadied, my heart felt lighter, and though there were still shadows in my mind, they weren’t as overwhelming anymore.
“I can feel it,” I whispered, almost in disbelief. “The fear isn't... as heavy.”
Rowan smiled, a quiet, knowing smile. “That’s because you’ve begun to let go of it. The more we allow our energy to move, the more we release the hold those old imprints have on us. You can choose to carry only what serves you, Ren. And right now, what you need is peace.”
Dorian’s voice cut through the stillness, soft but warm. “Rowan’s good at what they do. And I think, Ren, you might find this kind of work useful in the future, if you ever need it.” His gaze met mine, his eyes filled with quiet reassurance. “It’s not just about fixing things. It’s about giving yourself the space to find balance.”
I nodded slowly, feeling the truth of his words settle into my chest like a steady beat. The room was calm now, quieter than before, but there was still a hum in the air, a subtle magic that made everything feel a little less heavy.
Rowan set the feather aside, their hands resting gently in their lap. “How do you feel, Ren?”
I took another breath, feeling the air fill my lungs with a renewed sense of lightness. “I... I feel clearer,” I said, my voice quieter now, but there was a softness to it that hadn’t been there before. “Less... tangled. It’s like I can actually breathe.”
Rowan’s smile deepened. “That’s great,” they said. “I’m so glad I was able to help. I should be heading home, though,” Rowan said, their voice tinged with warmth and a hint of regret. “Cassian's waiting for me, and I promised I'd be back for dinner.”
“Of course,” Dorian replied, rising from his chair with the grace of a cat stretching after a long nap. “We'll see you out.”
As Rowan gathered their things, I felt a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me. The heaviness that had been weighing me down all day seemed to have lifted, replaced by a sort of floaty lightness that made me feel like I could drift away on the slightest breeze. It was as if someone had opened a window in a stuffy room, letting in fresh air and the scent of possibility.
I followed them to the door, my feet feeling oddly disconnected from the ground. Bones trotted alongside us, his bony tail wagging with enthusiasm. As we stepped out into the crisp evening air, the sky had transformed into a canvas of deep purples and brilliant oranges, like some cosmic artist had gone wild with a celestial paintbrush.
Rowan turned to face us, their eyes twinkling in the fading light. “Thank you for having me,” they said, their gaze lingering on me. “And Ren, anytime you need me, you just give me a call. I provide my services free of charge to the students here at Blackstone. It’s the least I can do.”
I watched Rowan disappear into the twilight, their hooves barely making a sound on the cobblestone path. The air around me still hummed with residual energy, like the afterglow of a particularly spectacular fireworks show. I felt lighter than I had in weeks, as if someone had taken a cosmic vacuum cleaner to my soul and sucked out all the gunk.
Dorian's hand on my shoulder brought me back to reality. “Come,” he said, his voice warm. “Let's get you something to eat. You look like you could use a good meal.”
I followed him back inside, the cozy interior of the cottage welcoming me like a warm hug. Bones trotted ahead, his bony tail clicking against the hardwood floor. The smell of cinnamon and cloves still lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of brewing tea.
The sounds of Dorian in the kitchen were comfortingly domestic. The clink of pots, the whoosh of magical flame igniting on the stove, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables. Even the way he hummed under his breath, some old folk song I didn't recognize, made me feel at home in a way I hadn't experienced in years.
“Are you actually cooking, or are you just making it sound like you're cooking?” I called out, grinning despite my lingering emotional exhaustion.
His warm chuckle floated back to me. “Cheeky brat. I'll have you know I'm making my grandmother's potato and leek soup. Complete with fresh-baked bread.”
The smell of herbs and garlic wafted through the air, making my stomach growl appreciatively. It was these simple, domestic magic moments of being here with him that made everything else feel manageable.
As Dorian busied himself in the kitchen, I wandered into the living room, my eyes roaming over the familiar bookshelves and curios. Everything seemed a little sharper, a little more vibrant than before. The colors of the book spines popped like neon signs, and the various magical artifacts scattered around the room seemed to hum with an energy I'd never noticed before.
“How are you feeling?” Dorian called from the kitchen, the sound of chopping vegetables punctuating his words.
“I feel... different,” I called back to Dorian, my voice sounding far away even to my own ears. “Like someone hit the 'defog' button on my brain.”
Dorian's warm chuckle drifted from the kitchen. “That's Rowan's gift. They have a way of clearing out the cobwebs, so to speak.”
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. My gaze drifted to Dorian's desk, a sprawling mahogany monstrosity covered in stacks of papers, half-melted candles, and an assortment of curious objects that looked like they belonged in a museum of the bizarre.
But something unusual caught my eye, a glint of silver peeking out from beneath a pile of parchment. Curiosity got the better of me, and I gently removed the papers piled atop the object, revealing a delicate silver chain etched with intricate runes that seemed to writhe and dance in the flickering firelight.
“Hey, Dorian?” I called.
“Yes, mo stóirín?”
“What is this thing?”
The air in the room seemed to thicken as my hand moved toward the chain, though I didn't notice it then. Later, I would remember how the dust motes in the air had frozen in place, how the flames in the fireplace had suddenly burned blue
But in that moment, all I felt was curiosity.
The chain seemed to call to me, its silver links gleaming with an inner light that made the mark on my forehead tingle in recognition. Our magic sang to each other like long-lost friends finally reunited. But when my fingers brushed the cool metal, that gentle song became a deafening orchestra, reality itself exploding into a wave of impossible sensation. It was as if someone had cranked up the volume on reality itself. Colors became impossibly vivid, scents sharpened to an almost painful intensity, and I swear I could hear the heartbeats of the dust motes floating in the air.
“Whoa,” I breathed, my voice sounding strange and echoey in my own ears.
The chain seemed to come alive in my hands, the runes glowing with an otherworldly light that pulsed in time with my racing heartbeat. It felt warm against my skin, almost uncomfortably so, like holding a mug of tea that's just a shade too hot to drink.
I tried to set it down, but my fingers wouldn't cooperate. It was as if the chain had fused to my skin, becoming an extension of my own body. Panic bubbled up in my chest, threatening to overflow.
The last thing I saw before the magic overwhelmed me was a bright white light. Then Dorian's voice cut through the chaos, speaking words in a language I didn't recognize but somehow understood in my bones.
And then, blessed darkness.