CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
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Phases have passed since my trip to The North Hold and since I've completed the conference. The constant feeling of anxiety continues to engulf my body and chest. It drops to the floor abruptly without reason and slowly, with time, I forget about it and recover, only for it to do it again when my mind is farthest from the concern. When I close my eyes and the short relief washes over my cheeks, a state of brief leisure carefully unwinds my stiff limbs. Then, they strain once more in response to the sudden sense of falling in my chest and I wonder again. Why? It had started in the train and why did it? For what reason?
I have quickly finished the book I was reading, so I shared it with Ann. We shared laughs. It stole my cluttered mind for a moment, releasing it to fly away in nostalgic thoughts and memories of childhood, only to be caught again. I didn't mind it, being the leader. Yet with that responsibility, comes the heavy weight of the burdened mind and the sleepless nights. I have developed a love for it, nonetheless. It warms my soul to see smiling faces and tranquility, even if it means heavy eyelids.
Madam Liesel said that my shoulder has healed. Taking it slow will still play a role in everything I do now and I rarely use my left hand anyway, so this will not be too much of a burden. The soldiers often ask me as they catch me on the stairs on the way to the city, "How are you feeling today, Madam 18?" Or they smile and say "I ask for you, a quick heal in my prayers!" And I thank them. I feel as if, besides Ann, the soldiers are my family also, always making sure I am feeling alright and worrying much for me, more than they do themselves at times. It must be their nature. A kind and heartwarming nature that the Mortems carry upon themselves that will never grow cold. It is found anywhere in the Tier and that is something that brings me joy wherever I visit, through all of my troubles.
I had concluded the city announcement. District Unem was nothing but itself. Strong, full of courage, full of willpower and radiating patriotism. They listened with every intention of gathering information. Their eyes spark a fire in me that only will spread. As they watch and listen I feel both one with them and I feel like an enlightening individual. At times, its as if I am them, and listening to myself speak gives me hope to hold in my heart as I trail back up the steps to the mansion. I spoke with power and nothing will stand in our way. Peace and tranquility will hold our hands and walk with us and we will walk along with them and protect them. I have gotten word that the Fives have arrived in The Hominum Tier. In the mind of a human, the world revolves around their beliefs. "They are the smartest and most intelligent race"
These words are according to themselves. This goes by time as well. They think us fast. They think that we move by the speed of light. One moment, we can jump from plain to plain, realm to realm in less than seconds, but this is according to their time. For us, it is like any other feat. For them, the performance is thought effortless, because our time does not comply to theirs. It is just what it is. Time. And it does not comply to anything but itself. I read of these things in The Tier Head Archives. They speak of much truth. Their words are solely wisdom and experience.
Another trip is scheduled in exactly three phases to be. There are no words to express how genuinely excited I am to finally see The West Hold and all of its people. The research I've done about it, gathered with rumors, make my heart skip. They say Mortems walk the walls there, for the gravity is thrown off allowing them to throw stairs out of mind when it comes to reaching the next story up in a building. I hope that I can share many things with Ann when I return, but until then, I shall attempt to rest. This will be the last I intend to speak.
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I had thought that I spoke for a final time, but I can only continue. I took the liquid from the vial. A powerful Mortem potion that could turn the lights out in any human in a second. Even that couldn't stop the drop. My eyes were heavy and my limbs were only comforted in the embrace of the blankets. I would close them, and the serenity of sleep would prance around me like fresh clouds that rolled in the sky and crowded me, blanketed me. My mind rested, stopped. Unconsciousness took me and flew higher as everything fell around. I was sleeping almost soundly, but even the grip of a Mortem potion couldn't sustain the drop that snatched me and pushed me off. I felt it in my chest, awaking like I hit the ground from the drop from the height of a clock tower, I swallowed my heart and my eyes opened in synchronized symphony with a gasp deeper than the North abyss. The ceiling was nothing near dull when I stared and my heart settled back like a rabid animal. Inside, my head throbbed with pain, but I lay on my back with nothing but a straight and tired face, watching the dancing glow of the chandelier outside the door. I settled back and forgot. I would be lying if I said that I didn't try to. When I turned to my side, the walls creaked with my bones. I just watched. Watched the wall. It's stillness that I envied. The potion took my wrist again eventually, and again it led me. It's fingers shut my eyes and I did not fight. Again I was gone. Gone into the sky. The sleep embraced me once more with warm welcoming arms. Walking among the nothingness and taking step after step, the stars were my stepping stones. My body weighed nothing. That again changed. There, stepping on a star, my head fell heavy. I fell, myself. Again I found myself awake. The drops weren't merciful. Neither was I. Working around them is not fulfilling and if they weren't allowing me to sleep, I will fight not asleep, but awake. Reading in the library will be my first attempt. So by that, my legs were thrown over the bedside and my aching body migrated weakly to the large room full of tools to steal my mind from concern. The glass case was the first I longed to visit. May it hold words that explain what rages in the air. The feel of the old pages were comforting, smoothing them out and reading faded ink.
It's spoke of the sights they behold. The bursts of light that trail from every living being and the beauty of purity. An aura. They speak of seeing not by face or body, but by aura, the trail of the soul. This is the purest essence of any life and through the lies the tongue may tell, the aura only speaks the truth.Those that are powerful may affect many, let it be negatively or positively. It is deep inside your thought as and actions. This is what will warp the waves. It speaks of it being like light. Like waves that vary in length and when one receives these waves they are affected and it staggers theirs, making them feel subconsciously the same.
I find these words very interesting. Perhaps helpful in some sort of way. With that, on cue, another drop pulsed through my veins. My hand flew to my chest. I swallowed, took a breath and continued my study. It will not prevail.
The page turned and I continued.
"What one projects into the atmosphere, be it positive or negative, the same energy will return in abundance.
MTH 9"
These words also spoke of truth, much like the rest.
