The Call of Home

CHAPTER 13

The tea house quieted down over the next couple of days as the townsfolk spent time with their friends and family for the impending Ciris Day. For the first time in a while, I had time for myself, though I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. I figured it would be a good idea to do some of the homework Carina had assigned me. Maybe that would help me make sense of everything going on.

I decided to head to the clearing Carina had taken me to before. My skepticism about the whole "waiting and listening" thing had been ruining my chances to properly examine my powers and refocus on the task at hand. But today, I was determined to give it an honest try.

With that, I planted myself down, crossed my legs, and closed my eyes.

I started by assessing the sounds around me. The babbling of the brook gradually shifted into the steady rush of a river. The rustling of leaves as a gentle breeze wound its way between them, carrying whispers of the forest's life. And...something new. A low hum, almost like the distant resonance of the aurora above. I wasn't sure if it was real or just my imagination, but I welcomed it.

Next, I turned my focus inward, checking in with my physical senses. The wind kissed my wings and played with the strands of my unbound hair, while the warmth of the late afternoon wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. I tried to concentrate on building energy behind my mind's eye, just as one of the many books Carina had lent me instructed.

Balancing all of this—listening to the world, feeling the elements, and focusing on the inner workings of my magic—wasn't easy. My mind kept drifting, pulling me in every direction at once. What was Seren doing right now? What would I eat later? Idris' hand entwined with mine the other night...

Push it out. Close the door. Throw away the key.

I returned to my breathing, forcing myself to listen again after the interruption. It was frustratingly hard to stay present, but I tried to visualize my powers, imagining them as an aura surrounding me. That image felt right—a rainbow screen of colours, shifting like the fractals I often saw in my visions. It shimmered and pulsed, like light filtering through a crystal.

I stayed with the image, letting it grow clearer in my mind. The rainbow aura expanded outward, slowly, as if testing its limits. But the more I focused, the more tangible it felt, as though it was tethered to something beyond me. My energy didn't feel chaotic anymore. It was flowing, purposeful, reaching for something just out of sight.

Then, something shifted. Ringing sounded in my ears, and I felt a faint but undeniable surge of power. My heart skipped a beat. This was new.

For a moment, the world around me seemed to blur, the clearing and the forest fading into the background, leaving just me and the energy. I opened my eyes, half-expecting to see something different, and there it was—the fractals, swirling in my vision again. My heart leapt, but I quickly stifled the excitement. I couldn't afford to scare this fragile control away. Maybe that wasn't even possible, but I didn't want to risk it.

This vision felt different, though. I saw beasts weaving through the forest, and birds scattering from the treetops in a frenzy. Then, the gruesome sight of a bear-like creature appeared, lying on its side, ribs exposed, entrails spilling out. It looked like something had torn into it. The vision shifted again, showing a spot on the far side of the clearing, where a large rock was firmly rooted. And then, just as quickly, the images faded, and I pulled back into reality.

This time, there was no emotion attached to the vision. Normally, I would feel everything—grief, joy, and fear coursing through me as I experienced these moments. But this... this was just a stark, empty showing. Still, something pulled me, a sense that I needed to follow through.