The Ancient Book of Power

Chapter 8: Dalbreath's Soul Adventure

Dalbreath was very lost in his own thoughts on the way to school the next morning. He didn't even bother insulting Neena when they caught up to her, which he always loved to do. He couldn't believe Deearo punched him for being rude to her the night before. Secretly he liked her too, but he didn't dare say so, because he could tell that Deearo liked her a lot, and there would be a big fight if Deearo ever found out that Dalbreath actually liked the girl a little.

No, he was thinking about the dream he had the night before, and he wondered what would happen when he tried to meditate in class later that morning. Meditation had become a regular part of the curriculum of the Introduction to Magery class. He was both worried and excited. He felt so young to be having all these adventures, but have them he did.

"What's the matter with you, Dalbreath?" asked Deearo. "Quiet at breakfast, and quiet when Neena joined us. What are you up to?"

"Nothing, it's nothing, just a silly dream, but I can't get it out of my head," said Dalbreath, kicking a rock as an exclamation mark to what he was saying and feeling.

"Tell us about it," said Neena.

"Well, there was this shadowy figure in my room telling me all sorts of crazy things I don't remember. We meditate today, what if he shows up in my meditation. I'm scared of him. He's very powerful."

"You mustn't be afraid, Dalbreath," said Deearo. "If you do he'll pin you to the wall like a bug and put you in his collection."

"Very encouraging," said Dalbreath.

"I wonder if he's that old Curmudgeon we tangled with on the Isle of Eslor?" said Deearo.

"Could be," said Dalbreath after careful thought.

"Well, whoever he is, Dalbreath, you mustn't let him boss you around. Tell your mother about this dream. I have a feeling she can protect you. Or better yet, tell Bekma."

They walked on in silence and soon were at the school.

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In class, professor Doaleen did not waste any time getting them to meditate. There was no lecture, just a planned meditation for an hour followed by a discussion. Dalbreath was apprehensive at first, but then he remembered his soul guide Adrianu, and suddenly he felt stronger, more focused. Soon after he levitated off the surface of his desk two feet he entered a deep meditative state. When he reached the "other side" as he liked to call it, there was Adrianu waiting for him.

"Greetings Dalbreath," said Adrianu.

This time Dalbreath found himself in his own body. "Greetings," he said. "What are we going to do today?"

"I want you to meet a great artist of the Sheiwezaa along with his wife."

"Why?" said Dalbreath,  always curious about everything.

"Arthooa has an important message for you," said Adrianu.

"Okay," said Dalbreath, giving in to the adventure.

"Take my hand," said Adrianu, so he did, and they flew to Sheiwezaa, which is where the Sheiwezaa live, deep in the heart of Niland. They flew over the village until they came to a beautiful hut at the edge of the village, and they landed there. A tall black man with a balding head and eyes that lit up his smile came out to greet them.

"Hi Arthooa, I want you to meet Dalbreath. He needs to know what you know.

"Hei, Hei," he half laughed. "He does, does he. Well, come inside, we'll have a nice cup of tea and talk a bit."

"About what?" asked Dalbreath.

"What else, but the importance of having art in your life," said Arthooa.

"I'm a mage," said Dalbreath dolefully.

"How old are you, Dalbreath?" asked Arthooa with bright white eyes and an even whiter smile.

"I'll be six in a month," said Dalbreath haughtily.

"My my, five and you already know everything," said Arthooa.

Adrianu laughed, but Dalbreath kept quiet after that.

Inside was a lot of wonderful art on the walls. It was all so colorful. There were sculptures too, done in a style that we would call distinctly African. There was a woman too, very beautiful. She was old like Arthooa but she had such a lightness of being.  Dalbreath looked around in amazement at the art and the woman, who had a unique quality about her. "Who did all this art?" asked Dalbreath, truly amazed.

"I did, does that surprise you?" asked Arthooa.

"A little," said Dalbreath sheepishly.

"Honesty, I like it," said Arthooa, then he turned to the woman and said, "Get us some tea woman."

"Oh shush, it's done already," she said, in a melodic tone.

He smiled at his guests. "See, I have her trained right," said Arthooa.

"Oh shush, or you'll be getting no sweetness from me tonight," she said, her white hair seemed so radiant Dalbreath thought.

"Hei, hei," said Arthooa, almost laughingly. "She knows how to shut me up too. Come, meet my wife Lilee. Let's all have some tea and chat."

Lilee poured the tea, as they all sat down at a beautiful ebony table with intricate enlay along the oval edge. Then she sat too, across from Arthooa, with Adrianu and Dalbreath sitting in the middle. "It's important to have some sort of art in your life," said Arthooa. "Without art we flounder and succumb to the darkness inside us."

"How do we?" asked Dalbreath, curious.

Arthooa smiled and his white teeth almost seemed to twinkle. "Art is a bridge to the soul, little man. Without art we are cut off. Look around in the darker streets of any city, low life people have no art inside them."

"Magery is an art," said Dalbreath.

"True," said Arthooa, "but it expresses something different than art."

Dalbreath suddenly felt uncomfortable under the heavy gaze of Arthooa and Adrianu. "Wnat do you do, Lilee?" asked Dalbreath.

She smiled, grateful to be included in the conversation. "I write short stories," said Lilee. "I've had several published in literary journals all across Avalon."

"My father is a book publisher," said Dalbreath. "He prints many books every year."

"Then you must know how difficult it is to get published. It requires skill and artistry," said Lilee.

"Art huh? But what could I do? I can't draw or paint like you Arthooa."

Suddenly he felt someone shaking his body, and he began to come out of his meditative state. The last thing he heard Arthur say was: "Try music." Then he opened his eyes to the whole class including their professor staring right at him.

"I said an hour," said professor Doaleen, "not an hour and twenty minutes."

"I was talking to Arthooa and Lilee," said Dalbreath, indignantly, but no matter how he argued his point, everybody agreed that an hour and twenty minutes was too long to meditate in their class.

"You've upset the principals I'm trying to teach, Dalbreath . That's why I called an old friend to have a talk with you." Just then Bekma stepped forward into the classroom from outside. "We need to talk, Dalbreath. Come with me."

Dalbreath looked around in confusion. "But I didn't do anything wrong."

"Let me be the judge of that. Come I'll buy you lunch at my favorite Asban restaurant."

"Hey, what about me," said Deearo.

Bekma smiled. "We'll wait until you're going too fast in one of your classes. Yes, I already talked to your other professor, Dalbreath. Let's go."

Deearo looked on jealously as Dalbreath and Bekma left the silent room. 'Since when did students get rewards for doing poorly in school,' he thought. It was a tough rest of the day for Deearo and Neena. Was Dalbreath in trouble, or wasn't he? They didn't know, nor would they for some hours.