38. The Fae Life for Me #3
‘In this instance, everything. Do you want to repeat my mistake and take too much, darkening your soul? Corrupting you and leaving you vulnerable with such limited knowledge and relationship with our Mother Earth?’ He stares at me and raises an eyebrow, and my jaw wobbles in thin air, as I draw a blank. ‘I didn’t think so,’ he scoffs.
‘What happens if I fail to recycle?’ I ask. I’ve never been scared of outperforming or doing well on a task; it's the failure that scares me.
‘Then I’ll have to find a new vessel because yours will no longer be of use,’ he says simply, and talk about a slap in the face for a wake-up call. In a way, I can’t help but respect him a little bit more for being straight to the point with me.
I nod my understanding, and he continues.
‘Now, let’s begin so you may filter out some of this pain and purge this taint out of you.’
A thrill goes through me that I’m actually speaking to and am about to learn from Famine himself, or at least his spirit. I’m not sure how this works, but I’m going with it for now. I quickly put on a fresh shirt, but I leave it open so I can see my wound and tattoo.
‘Feel the earth beneath you, connect with her. Now feel that ichor that does not belong within you. Do you sense it?’
Since going through Hell and becoming stronger, feeling the Earth hasn’t been a struggle at all; it’s always been in the back of my mind. The ease of sensing it is the same as wearing a suit for me, like now. It’s always there.
Now, the ichor feels like an itchy and constant burn against my skin; it’s more of a nuisance than anything else. Like a fly constantly orbiting your personal space when the open window is right next to you.
‘Yes, I feel both,’ I tell him as I fiddle with one of the cufflinks that Rez made me. My corset is lying on the counter, ready to go, but I already feel as if I’m wearing a set of armor, yet I can’t help the small rocking back and forth in my boots from the anxiety riding me.
‘What you will be doing is purging yourself over a period of time and asking the Earth to cleanse you and the magic in return for its cooperation; building a stronger relationship with her. The more taint that the Earth receives and cleanses into herself, the stronger she becomes as she balances herself once again.’
‘That’s a thing?’ I ask, confused. It’s almost like he’s saying the Earth is a sentient being.
‘She is, in her own way. She’s not like the DoorKnights or other objects, but she is sentient.
She does react, she has feelings, and if she wishes, she can even hear this conversation,’ he explains.
‘Now visualize reaching down and pinching off a small piece of that ichor. Not too big, like the size of a pebble.’
‘Why? Will it hurt her if I take too much?’ I ask, worried that I could be hurting the Earth more than a Mage normally could.
‘Mother Earth is resilient, but until you have a better relationship with her, I would not force too much on her. So once you have your piece, wrap your magic around the pebble and plant it into the ground as you pull a small amount of the Earth’s energy into you.’
Following his directions, I magically pinch off the poison that’s in me.
Mentally wrapping it with my magic, I push it into the ground and immediately feel light, crisp, and warm energy flow into me.
It’s as if I took a shot of straight adrenaline as I’m standing in the middle of a small brook surrounded by thousands of trees with the sun beating down on me.
I don’t know how else to explain it except for perfect.
The pain lessens. I even feel a little lighter, and as I look into a shard of the broken mirror, my color seems less pallid.
‘There you go, young stud. This is just one way to work on forging a stronger relationship between you and Mother Earth, and with that bond, you’ll be able to heal yourself of that nasty poison and get your mate back.’
Relief rolls over me at his words of hope. I can heal myself of this shit and fix what I had with Rez? Yes, please.
I hold my breath, waiting for the sharp stab of pain of the thought of her, but it’s a slight pulse, and I almost weep from relief.
‘How often am I supposed to do this until I’m healed?’ I wait for his answer, not daring to release all of the tension in my body. I’m hoping for a quick timetable.
Seeing Famine shrug is one of the most surreal moments of my life.
‘You can recycle as often as you need and as much as Earth allows. But as to how long it will take you to purge yourself? Well, that I do not know, that is up to your stamina and how much Earth will accept from you at a time.’ Famine’s hazel eyes glow brighter, emphasizing his next words.
‘Just remember to listen and trust her. Cultivating a pure and honest relationship will allow you the strongest connection one can have without jeopardizing and tainting one’s soul. ’
The glow from my tattoo slowly extinguishes as his tattoo goes still.
‘Well, that’s great and all, but I do believe I have a fucking timeline,’ I growl in frustration, but I don’t get a response from Famine.
So much for a teacher.