Something Wild Calls You Home

Prologue

If only I'd understood what I'd seen in the bathroom floor tiles all those months ago, I could have been a whole hell of a lot better prepared for what was to come.

***

Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Mira. I'm twenty-seven and until about a year ago I lived in the heart of San Francisco where I worked as a manager in a vintage clothing shop. It was a fun place of employment, but the pay was lacking substantially. To make up for it I got into NFT art, it made a comfortable difference in my bank account.

So, the floor tile thing. Apparently, my source of scrying is green marble floor tiles. Twelve inches by twelve inches. Just normal flooring most likely purchased from Lowes or Home Depot.

Bathroom floor tile scrying? Is that even a thing? I've never heard of it. But as I soaked away one particularly difficult day in the suds, my gaze wandered down to the floor, and that's exactly what occurred for the very first time. It became the subject of my art.

So, I'm relaxing into the lovely eucalyptus, cedar and bay scented bubbles, head resting back on a towel to save my neck from the tub edge, and as I melt into the comfort my head lolls to the side, and my eyes come to rest on a square of marble that's peeking out from the edge of the bathmat.

I see defined shapes. As if I'm looking at photographs. There are distinct edges, depth, not just white veins travelling through the deep green. The first image I see is a leafless tree, growing in a lush, unmown meadow. A trail, a crooked path, leads to the tree. Fog hugs the ground, travelling in rivers between the clumps of wild, shaggy grass and scattered, protruding rocks. A crow sits on a branch of a closer tree. Storm clouds are above. At the foot of the tree is a substantial hollow, nestled darkly between the roots. I know it's the opening of a tunnel, a cave beneath the tree. A rugged embankment of soil, rock and roots are to the left.

The tile above that first one shows a crow, or it might be a vulture, with its back to me, sitting on a gnarled, winter branch. It appears ready to take flight. In the distance, on a hilltop, is a stag with enormous antlers.

Leaning forward, I flip the rug away. These tiles have my full attention. I turn my body and cross my arms on the edge of the tub, resting my chin on my arms.

My gaze drifts to the square below the first. This one has the most details. I see a horse, moving down a trail. Astride it is a woman in a hooded cloak. Her arm is held aloft, a falcon or hawk perches there. I know she is royalty. I just know. To her right is a guard, a warrior. Armor covers his body, as does a cloak that's blown to the side by the wind.

As I watch, I see a procession emerge. More guards, more cloaked figures. I see actual movement. But it's so insignificant my eyes can't stay locked on it. It's a mere hint of movement.

To the far right is a tree, and from the lower branch, a creature is hanging from its feet upside down, grinning. Another tile shows a closer look at a guard's face. Stubble shrouds his jaw, and he's kneeling. It's a profile view. But then his face turns and he's looking at me. His head moves back to its original position, and in front of him is a woman—it might be a woman, it's unclear—and she's handing something to him, resting it in his hands. Or maybe he's giving the object to her. My eyes travel quickly over other tiles. In them all are creatures, beings I know but don't know. It's all unnerving. Shivering, I sink beneath the bathwater. I emerge, wiping the water from my eyes. They won't be there. The images will have gone or turned into something else when I look back, the usual kittens or rabbits or bears, because that's how seeing things works. Right? But when I look, they're still there. Sharp and clear as if I'd spread photographs all over my bathroom floor.

What do they mean? I don't know. But somewhere in the recesses of myself, I do know. I just can't remember what I'm supposed to know. Does that make sense? Normally I'd see innocuous everyday stuff. This wasn't. I could feel it wasn't.

After all the years of trying to broaden my abilities via scrying—mirrors, fire, orbs—it ends up being marble bathroom floor tiles.