I’m not sure how long I sat in that position: Cassandra stopped asking me if I was all right after the third sunrise. Time blurred, and the outside world disappeared into a fog. I stopped concentrating on Christopher, and let my mind wander until it landed on the smudgy form of a white wolf, blanketed in white mist. Her eyes lightly reflected light, glowing yellow and blue. If I hadn’t noticed her eyes, I would never have seen her … I wonder how long she had been standing in front of me.
I have a feeling; she has been here the entire time I was traveling in the mist. I sat down and she did the same. We must have sat and stared at each other for hours; until she finally got up and walked back into the fog. I missed her presence almost immediately, but she didn’t return for the rest of that day. My excitement at her return surprised me. While she was away, I had been wondering where I knew her from; and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in some way answering my plea to return home.
We follow the same routine of staring, and then separating, which left me longing for her company through two more cycles before it finally dawns on me, “You are Christopher’s dream companion, aren’t you?”
She just cocks her head, and for a moment I can see Lune inside her. “Yes, I do believe you are Christopher’s companion. I can see that you are very special, or at least, you remind me of an extraordinary friend.”
She crawls forward on her belly, and gently lays her head in my lap. As I drag my fingertips through the bushy fur around her neck, a scent is released into the air. Christopher! I bend over and nuzzle her face and mane, bathing my nose in Christopher’s aroma. A person’s sense of smell has the perfect key to unlock memories, and curling up with this strange visitor brings me closer to Christopher than I have been for over a year. She lies very still while I curl up behind her; and she forms an expression of ecstasy as I run my fingers down her flank, releasing more fragrance into the air with each pass of my hand. We lie there for hours, until it is time for her to leave again … but this time she leaves the gift of crystal-clear memories of my beloved in her wake. Christopher's visitation, weeks ago, was genuine; I can feel the difference now that I recognize the wolf. I rest my head against my arm, not bothering to move from the position I have held with the wolf. Slowly closing my eyes, I hope to dream of Christopher.
He stands before me, scruffy and aged, but as beautiful as always. I can tell right away that this isn’t the same as when the wolf called me to his side weeks ago. This one is a shadow brought to life by my memories. My feet start walking to him with a mind of their own: my body has always reacted to his presence as if he had control, not me. There is the same compulsion to look into his eyes; I can always read him through the whispers of his beautiful eyes. The irises are still filled with the iridescent aqua that makes my butterflies dance … but this phantom doesn’t smolder with the same intensity; leaving me dancing without music, clumsy and false.
Reaching up, I brush the outside of my fingers across the rough beard that surrounds his chin. My thumb strokes the outline of his bottom lip, and although their fullness asks to be kissed … they have no heat. This is wrong; I can’t feel his emotions, or life.
I reach up and touch the wetness on my cheek and start to feel angry, but I don’t know why. Screaming at the ghost before I can even understand my outburst, “YOU’RE NOT REAL … GO AWAY!”
I could pretend that he is real. I could use this false man to fill a small part of the gaping hole in my chest. I should let him ignite the butterflies into glorious dances. If I could just allow him to give me a moment to catch my breath … maybe I could pull together the strength needed to return to the bloody messed-up world outside my mind. That damned world where leaders’ egos kill babies, and innocence … where nothing is fair and we have to work ourselves to exhaustion just to find a bit of balance.
I jump when I feel pressure on my shoulder; I don’t realize I am on my knees until I turn to find Christopher standing above me. There at his side is the white wolf … it is him! The real man…
“I love you, Christopher.” My voice comes out in quiet sobs.
Looking into that enchanting face full of compassion, makes me smile … puny and puffy from crying, I smile nonetheless. He crouches down in front of me and takes my face into his hands, then places a soft kiss on my forehead. With his thumbs he wipes away my tears, and cocks his head with a quizzical expression.
I shake my head in response to his query as to why I was crying.
Reading his lips, I watch him from the words, “I love you, too.”
I wrap my arms around him with such yearning that I knock us both to the ground. There, lying on top of him, I press my face into his chest and let out my sorrow, all at once, drenching his shirt, and lying in an awkward sprawled position. He simply strokes my hair and holds me close … letting me cry myself out. I am hiccupping through the last dredges of tears, and gulping in his aura at the same time. Running my hands down his shirt, I can feel that he is even leaner than when I saw him last. Looking at his arms, I lightly touch the veins that stand out of his skin. He is so warm underneath me that the pressure of my skin against his thaws the chill brought on by my depression. This time, when I draw my thumb across his lip, I can feel the fire there. He quickly sucks his in his lip, and starts scratching it with his teeth. I have to laugh, understanding that I’ve tickled him, and laying the way we are I am pinning his arms.
He grins with a mischievous look in his eye, and he flips me over; then he gently places his lips on mine and gently blows until he has the desired effect. The prickle starts in my lip and quickly takes over my teeth and chin. I am sputtering and trying to free my hands that are held firmly between us. I suck on my lip, biting down on it with my teeth, squirming and laughing the entire time. The outside world is completely forgotten, while I am there in his arms. My butterflies beat against my stomach, making my skin tingle and pulse. We smile, never speaking a word, just enjoying each other's presence.
Laying there in his arms, I finally feel secure enough to poke timidly at the soft underbelly of my choice to withdraw from Cassandra, and her memories. Damn these gifts; why would anyone want to experience the bliss and weight of carrying a child just to have them taken away. I don’t have the year that Cass and Agamemnon had with their babies; and I hate my existence for not allowing me to know the complete and all encompassing love that a mother has for her child; the love that I would have for my child. Living vicariously through someone else is a lie, and there is no worse crime than lying to yourself.
Before I can acknowledge them, Christopher feels the sobs shaking through my body. He holds me closer, and I bury my face on his chest again. I want to be alive, to be married and connected to him … I want to have his child. While I drain the dredges of my self-pity out onto Christopher’s shirt, he just holds me tighter as if he is squeezing out the sorrow. I can feel his desire to make things right, and his frustration at not knowing what is wrong.
Even if he could hear me … what would I tell him? I experienced what it felt like to have life growing inside me. I now understand what it feels like to love someone before you even meet them. With that unconditional love, comes a price … losing them is a fate worse than death.
In this place, where mute words are spoken to deaf ears, I gain understanding just by speaking them out loud. I tell him about Cassandra; her heart inside Agamemnon, and her soul inside the babies. I tell him what I felt, the power of the emotions … the inconceivable power of Cassandra’s love. I smile and leisurely entwine my legs around his as I explain the joy of having a child, and knowing that babies come from a place of unquestionable devotion…
“Oh Christopher, how could I have been so dense? Cassandra gave me something I will never feel for myself. I was so caught up in the jealousy, anger, and bitterness that I didn’t think about how precious a gift she was giving me.”
The realization is every bit of a shock, as my anger with Cassandra, had been in the first place. Something warm filled my body and I could feel the pulse of energy flowing through my skin. I let go of the pain; I let go of the sorrow, and bathe my mind in the understanding that I have given my love and friendship to someone special … and in doing so, she repaid me with the most precious gift one person can give another. Cassandra shared the essence of her existence; she gave me a glimpse at what made her Ho Thanatos … at what made her so wise, so grounded, and so magnificent. I draw strength from the fact that she is still here, when there shouldn't have been anything left to pass through the veil in the first place. I think maybe, we come to ethereal mist not because of our purity, or gifts, but because of our essence. Cassandra is a manifestation of endurance, just as Zuvan is the manifestation of commitment.
Christopher pulls away with a surprised look on his face. He is staring at me, and then looking at the skin on his forearms. His eyes speak volumes as he smiles playfully and mouths, “You win … I can’t do that.”
Confused, I look at his arms … all the hair is standing on end and his skin has goose bumps that only a shock of electricity can make. A turquoise-green glow pulses out of my body, making Christopher shiver and shudder -- the light show reminds me of Zuvan’s white-hot glow, which flows out of his hands in order to control fire. I start to laugh at my success in paying back Christopher for tickling my lip, and the glow shifts to a bright yellow; in response Christopher starts laughing uncontrollably. When his twisting breaks the connection between us, he finally regains control, and the light surrounding me fades. We tentatively touch hands, and confirm that whatever has just happened … it has passed. His expression mirrors my own … “What was that?”
The white wolf, which has stayed by our side, not interfering, just watching with a tilt to her head, comes to us now and nudges Christopher’s arm with her nose. He nods solemnly, and turns to kiss me one last time. This isn’t playful, or even passionate … it is all encompassing, pushing out any other feelings. It must be time for him to leave. His relationship with the wolf is confusing, but she has brought us together again. And, I am thankful.
I am not sure how long I was sitting at the twins’ grave, stuck in my trance; but when I open my eyes, I am greeted by the sunset and Cassandra sitting about twenty feet away.
Speaking softly, with more than a touch of concern, Cass says, “I’m sorry, Ellie. The idea that I would make you feel the pain of losing a child, on top of losing the love of your life … well, I had no idea how powerful your gifts must be. I hope you can forgive me.”
I see her with more sympathy than I thought would be possible, it still amazes me how much your perspective can change when you understand someone else’s hardship. “Thank you for allowing me to know you that intimately, Cass. I learned more inside your story than I could have learned through years of instruction.”
During my time in the dreamscape, many things came to mind. The reach of my gifts and the inescapable need to find a way to block my mind from other readers seems to have great significance for my survival. If I am going to continue growing stronger and learning new levels in my abilities, then I need to learn how to protect myself from being affected like this again. And, I need to figure out what exactly happened with Christopher.
“How long have I been sitting here?” I can almost feel the stiffness in my limbs.
“A little over two weeks…” I stare at Cassandra in astonishment, “Trust me, if needed, a Ho Thanatos can sit still for centuries. Although, I am pretty sure that is why some of our kind have faded away, from a lack of movement, a lack of life.”
Feeling the pressure of not wanting to waste any more time, although apparently all I have is time, but Christopher most certainly does not … I start telling Cassandra about what I had accomplished, while she was telling me her story.
Her expression is mildly confused, but her emotions are a mixture of excitement and concern. “I agree with you, Ellie, we need to work on your defenses … and I need to try and figure out a way that your talents could be used to possibly protect you.”
“I wasn't sure what I could do offensively. Existing as a reader; I could pick up on emotions but I can’t invoke emotions … or can I? Before what had happened with Christopher, I was sure my gifts were purely passive; and I liked to think of them that way. I am not comfortable with the idea of forcing anyone to do anything, it feels too much like interfering with free will, and I’d rather die than do that … even to my enemies.”
Cass just continues chatting, ignoring my objections, “You said that you could influence people’s mood by touching their painful thoughts and reinforcing the positive, right? You’ve already told me that while you were inside Christopher’s waking mind, you were able to absorb his anger and stress. You physically removed the anxiety from his thoughts and body, and then released it. I think that your potential for offensive could be very dangerous, given the right circumstances.” Her excitement continues to grow the more she speculates.
“Yes, I did tell you I could do that … but Cass, you have to remember, pulling emotions from a human, leaves me incapacitated for hours. Please, tell me how am I supposed to defend myself, if I am unconscious?”
I want to understand more about my light demonstration with Christopher, before I tell Cassandra about it. I have the sneaking suspicion that she will see that as a weapon. Given my issues with controlling others, I am not prepared to accept that aspect of my gifts just yet.
“You’re right; of course ... you’ll be struck down before they even formulate an attack.”
She looks momentarily defeated, and then a new glow comes to her face, “If we can find a way to take away your suffering … maybe you would be able to withstand entering a mind without side effects. Have you tried to do that with a Ho Thanatos before?”
I shake my head. Why haven’t I thought of that … I can absorb negative feelings with humans, why haven’t I tried with Ho Thanatos? I wish I had thought of that when Zuvan was showing me how to read ethereal creatures. The ease of interaction with my own kind may be the answer we are looking for … a way to save me from the suffering.
“First though, Cass, I want to learn how to deflect, and protect, my mind from intruders.”
“All right; that will have to be our first lesson. I think that you probably already know how to protect your thoughts and feelings. You need to recognize that ability, and put it into action.”
“What do you think I should do, to discover this ability?” My mind is filled with questions, and searching desperately for answers; the simple act of following Cass’s ideas is eluding me. Focus, Ellie; damn it, focus!
As I listen to Cassandra running through different ideas, from trying to force my way through her defenses, so that I might see for myself how to deflect a reader … to finding a reader that will be willing to test me until I am able to block the intrusion. She continues to vocalize her thoughts, and her voice takes on a rhythmic droning quality as she starts listing the Ho Thanatos that might be able to help us. The more I try to focus, the more I hear the cadence of speech rather than the words, and my mind drifts back to my time in the fog.
My defenses sent me to a place to meditate -- a place to concentrate on delicately acknowledging Cassandra’s pain, as it became my own. The emotional torment invading my thoughts was nothing new; I had tasted the bitterness of losing children before, especially during World War Two. Cass’s agony wasn’t as incapacitating as the human mothers’ minds that I’d touched when I was human.
The difference must lay in the fact that she is Ho Thanatos, and my ease at forming a connection. I am hoping it doesn’t have anything to do with me forming an emotional detachment; as much as I hate the suffering, the idea of not feeling the weight of emotions, would steal away my appreciation for the experiences. No, I am not going to allow myself to become callous. I don’t know if I can grow to escape the physical response to suffering; but in my coming lessons, I cannot allow my mind to ignore my instinctual need to understand and provide comfort. I think my intimate understanding of feelings is the essence of my existence … and losing sympathy and compassion would wipe me from the mist entirely.
Before my lessons are to begin with Cassandra, I need to test my detachment; I need to find out if I still feel humans with the same intensity. Recognizing the restrictions that Cass has put on my reaching out with my mind over long distances, I decide that I need to actually travel to a highly populated area and interact personally with humans.
Interrupting Cass’s musing, I tell her, “I think I need to fly … I mean, I think I need to stretch and wake up. I have some thinking to do, and it might do me some good to get away from this place for a little while.”
Stuttering a bit as she stops her present train of thought, Cass responds, “Ah, all right … would you like for me to join you?” I can feel her concern and curiosity, but she doesn’t press because she still feels bad for allowing me to experience her misery.
“No … I think I need some time alone.” I try to smile to alleviate her guilt, but she nods with her eyes lowered in shame.
“Cassandra, this isn’t because of anything you have done … as I told you before, you gave me a gift in sharing your life. I just need to get away for a bit … that’s all.” I don’t want to tell her about what I really need to do, knowing how much she disapproves of my touching the minds of Mortos.
With a touch more of her old confidence, she says, “We shall meet back here the day after tomorrow then, shall we?”
“Yes, I think that would be perfect. In the meantime, maybe you could try and find those readers you have mentioned, and see if one of them might be interested in helping us.”
She rises to leave as she speaks, “That sounds like a good plan … I will see you back here in two days.” With that she flies to the south, and leaves me to search for minds to touch, and emotions to experience.
Turning to the north, I decide to fly in the opposite direction of Cass. I am not sure where I am heading; at that point, I am more interested in just flying. Letting land pass smoothly below, I start mentally developing a checklist of what I have learned about myself.
During my time with Zuvan, I realized that I could sense, and use my gifts on other Ho Thanatos. I don’t see my tendency to unintentionally manifest parts of my body, as solid in the Mortos realm, as a problem anymore … and learning how to shift from specter to solid will definitely help with Christopher at least. I can pass into Cassandra’s visions, and touch the minds of the creatures that exist inside the apparition, no matter what time period the mental picture represents. I suppose that could be very useful as a source for reconnaissance. I seem to be able to do something similar to that within memories … actually sensing the emotions of those around the individual whose mind I have entered. It seems that not only do I feel their emotions as my own, but I inhabit their body physically, and retain my ability to be empathically aware. Most surprising, and somewhat alarming, is the fact that I seem to be able to share my own emotions with another person, whether they want the feelings or not. I still don’t want to acknowledge that talent; I have developed a knee-jerk reaction towards the idea of forcefully sharing anything with anyone.
"Whatever I am … I am not a monster, and manipulation is just not an option." I mutter, absentmindedly speaking to myself.
I have to consciously compel my mind back to the task at hand. Finally noticing that I am unintentionally following the pull of Mortos, I look down and realize I have entered a major city.
