Chapter 20
Is channelling magical gifts any different than channelling emotion? Many scholars have agreed the two are both parallel and perpendicular to one another.
Awake before the sun, I’m left without clothing options that make sense once again.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter as I sift through the clothing options in my room. Sunrise starts shortly and I am left with lace and more lace and surprise, more lace.
Jett knocks before entering, holding a candle in the dark. “My lady, why are you up at this hour?” She walks in and lights a few more candles. I blew out the remaining cess lights last night and usually Avonde or Serene visit to relight them since my magic is out.
“I’m supposed to join the cess this morning for their practice,” I say.
“Oh yes, their practice.” She pads over and looks at the assortment, placing her hands on her hips. “You do have some training clothing elsewhere. Let me think.”
She observes the room before opening the chest at the base of my bed. In the rising light, Jett produces a handful of very plain but breathable garments.
“That will be much more agreeable, I think.”
“I wonder why they were in here?” she asks. Jett and Isadora are new to the castle and thus have little understanding of my ailment or the situation at hand. They never ask, either. I adore them.
“Well, I assume it was due to my absence.”
Jett nods agreeably, batting the shirt and linen pants to get rid of any dust. She hands them to me before continuing her work in unloading the trunk. I quickly disrobe and throw the garments on before running out of the room.
I pause at the door and yell my thanks, which probably sounded garbled with the piece of leather in my mouth that I’ve been using for my hair.
With luck, I make it to the courtyard right when the sun fully begins to rise. Grenn greets me and leads me to a space at the front.
At the front.
“I don’t think I should be up here,” I whisper so as not to disturb the rest of the cess who are already resting, seated with their eyes closed. The morning is peaceful and the sun is slowly trickling over the space. The air is chilled and the dirt floor hard, but I don’t feel cold.
“There is no hierarchy in our practice. Do you see the woman next to you?” Grenn motions to an older cess.
She is one of the few who wears their age and part of me wants to know her story, her upbringing, her life.
Knowing that they can live nearly as long as a vampyr makes me yearn for her wisdom in some way.
“I just don’t want to disturb anyone,” I reply. “I’m new to this.”
“Are you, though?”
“You tell me.”
Grenn chuckles. “This, routinely, was your spot every morning.”
Of course I am not new to this. I sigh and take my place a few feet from the woman. Her greying blonde hair is stacked on top of her head and her ears are adorned in piercings.
Yully enters the space and begins his lesson. “Easy morning, my friends. Thank you for being here. Our community finds continued gratitude each time you return to this space, to your space.”
My eyes are closed but I peek around. No one else is shifting and moving as much so I try to focus on stillness.
“Today’s intention is breath. Breath is the essence of life and our magic is a product of our life.
It runs as a conduit through our bodies and without breath, we cannot wield.
We rarely think about it. Rarely think about the action of inhaling and exhaling.
I challenge you to let your magic live this morning,” Yully says as he walks around the space.
At least, I believe he is walking because my eyelids are closed and his voice is traveling.
He leads us through minutes of breathing exercises.
Sometimes we hold at the top, sometimes we take short inhales and exhales.
My fingers don’t zap at all and I can’t help but feel frustrated.
A small tornado of dirt spins to my right from a younger acolyte whose eyes remain closed.
I pause my own practice and look around.
A web of red light is wrapped around Yully’s arms like snakes and I blink a few times to take it in.
He lets it twine between his fingers and with every exhale I see it brighten.
Grenn’s magic has commanded a cape made of floating leaves to loosely follow him around as he instructs. I try to keep my gaze low but the temptation to see everyone’s powers overtakes me.
Standing, I spin in a circle as the cess of Demis, of Lux, conjure foxes made of smoke, floating arches of pebbles and other beautiful displays of their raw talent.
Their focus and intent could be mistaken for simply living and I look at Yully’s smile because he is truly seeing his people, his sect, breathe in his intention.
“This is practice, not perfect,” Yully chants often. Seated once more, I open and close my palms in a way I saw Serene do but nothing happens.
“Damn,” I mutter.
“You’re forgetting the breath part,” the woman next to me says.
Startled, I open my eyes and turn to her. She’s perfectly still and perfectly executing a flower growing in her palm. I close my eyes and inhale, open my palm, and exhale close it.
“No, the other way.” She taps my shoulder and helps to guide my hand open.
“Exhale,” she instructs. I do so.
“Now, inhale deeply and softly tighten.”
My palm flutters and tickles and when I peel my eyes open slightly, there is a pinch of dirt in the center of my creased hand.
“Oh my, thank you,” I manage to say through my happy focus. I spill the dirt from one hand to another and laugh. “I did it!”
The woman does not respond but Grenn claps silently down the row.
Yully re-emerges and instructs us through our breathing back to the ground for closing.
“My friends, as the air passes in and out of your lungs through your life, remember the way your breathing can propel you forward. Place one hand on your heart and one on your stomach. One big inhale, and exhale. Let us heal and defend.”
I just conjured magic. That dirt found its way into my palm!
Those around me didn’t seem to notice but I can’t stop rubbing my fingers against the grit.
Members of the sect rise at their own pace and begin chatting with each other.
In this moment, I feel the weight of my strangeness.
They know me, but I don’t know them. Only a small portion of their sect is in charge of my healing but I hope they keep their notes to themselves.
Once more, I feel like an outsider.
Grenn and Yully chat with Serene and a few young acolytes in the corner. I can’t help but look around from my seated position. Am I a coward for not getting up?
Yes.
But I don’t want to leave. Not yet.
The sun warms my face through the parting in the vines. While there is chatter all around, I focus on my inner self and inner breath. So much of my self is unknown but the best I can do right now, according to Avonde, is connect with who I am at present.
Inhale.
Exhale.
“You need to warm up,” a voice says in front of me. I jump and lose my focus. The woman from earlier is standing in front of me, observing me curiously.
“Sorry?”
“Heat. Your body needs more warmth to loosen up.”
“It’s a cold castle,” I chuckle, unsure of her tone.
“Your body is too stiff, like it does not move often.”
“You could tell that from my palms?” I laugh.
She shrugs slyly. “Breathing alone seemed foreign to you. Bring more heat to it and you will bring more life.”
I bring my knees to my chest and look up at her more directly. The sun shines behind her head, giving a halo effect.
“Where do you recommend I find more heat? The bath?”
The woman considers this. “Any heat is good, I suppose.”
All right then, keep your secrets.
She moves to leave but I stand, moving into her path.
“What is your name? I didn’t get it before.”
“Fiona.” She bows, her beads dangling beneath her chest.
“A pleasure to meet you, Fiona. I can’t thank you enough for your help back there. Do you think we could do this next to each other again?”
Fiona swats away the compliment and walks around me towards the exit saying “Heat!” once more.
Is that a yes?