Dream Magic: Awakenings (8 page)

* * *

Eric stuck his head out of the water, breathed air deeply, then walked out and away from the lake.

He liked the way water and sand danced around his toes. Ever since he was a kid, swimming wasn't his strong suit, but he had fond memories of turning over wet buckets of sand and proclaiming them to be sandcastles. When a larger wave would come and wash the sweat of his brow away, he could pretend to be angry at the destruction of his magnificent art in the sand.

Rose and Lucy were sitting on a blanket-size towel spread across the sand, tugging at the edges of the towels they themselves were wrapped in. Maeve was sunbathing next to them, but she noticed Eric and stood up to meet him.

Maeve wasn't a petite woman. Eric's impression was that her crimson one-piece swimming suit wasn't exactly flattering to a woman of her age and curvature. Her grey-black hair was disheveled and fastened together haphazardly.

"Here you go," Maeve said, offering him a neatly folded towel.

"Thanks."

Eric dried himself and slumped down next to the girls.

"Finally you're not first at something!" Lucy said, grinning.

Eric didn't say anything, just smiled and shrugged.

"By the way, I'm still mad at you two for not waiting for me. What was so urgent about going through fire attunement that you couldn't wait?"

"Sorry, we just got carried away," Eric said.

"Yeah, Kyle and Lyle were so happy dancing in the fire, we didn't think it would be quite such a big ordeal. How about you choose the next class? I don't want you to be mad at me..." Rose made an overly sad face.

Lucy nodded. "Fine. I'm a little bit less mad at you, then."

"Hotheads," Maeve muttered. "You really should think some things through. I don't know why that numskull Joe is so irresponsible to leave such dangerous toys lying around... then again, we have an airhead throwing kids off a cliff to see if they fly and I too have to take time off to oversee reckless youngsters deliberately drown themselves... I need a drink."

Maeve turned around to her bag, rummaged through it, and retrieved a cocktail shaker, a cocktail glass and a tiny umbrella. She filled the glass with a translucent liquid from the shaker and stirred it with the pointy end of the umbrella.

Rose was eyeing the glass. "What's in there?"

"Gin-tonic. Do you want some?"

"Yes." Rose licked her lips.

"Well, you can't have any."

Rose frowned. "Why? Because I'm too young to drink?"

"No, because I intend to drink it all myself. Ha!" Maeve took a sip. "Besides, your elemental harmony is messed up. I don't want any of you eating or drinking anything before you complete the water attunement." Maeve lifted a metallic container out of her bag, rattled it, then put it back. "I do have some home-made cookies I'm willing to share with you after. Oh so delicious, mmm!"

"Didn't we already complete the water attunement?" Rose asked.

"What do you mean? Ah, the water-breathing; it's just a nice trick. I guess it qualifies as a minor attunement, but it's not enough to offset the fire you have. We need the real deal for that."

"Oh. So what do we have to do?"

"Have you heard of what we psychologists call a 'sensory-deprivation chamber'?"

"I did," Lucy said.

Rose shook her head. "You're a psychologist?"

"We'll use the lake in a similar fashion, and the water will show you its secrets if you listen." To Rose she said: "I keep several papers on my wall that say so, just in case I run out of toilet paper."

"What do we have to do?" Eric asked.

"Nothing. And believe me, that's not easy. I bet Joe gave you the head-through-wall speech, did he not?" They nodded. "It's a nice speech that breeds hotheads and airheads. It also makes my work more difficult. You can't will yourself through this one; no force or action will help you."

"I don't get it," Eric said.

Maeve sighed. "'Getting it', as you say, is optional. Understanding will let you down, especially if you wield it as a hammer to which everything is a nail. You have to be prepared to cast it aside. Trust yourself, your feelings, your subconscious, the parts of yourself you don't even realize are parts of you."

Eric looked at Lucy, hoping she had some more sensible information, but she just shrugged.

"Go into the lake, feel the waves, and let go. Whenever you're ready. This box of cookies and I are waiting for you."

* * *

Eric was swimming in the lake. He didn't know what he was supposed to do,
or not do
, so he just splashed around. He found that diving was easier with lungs full of water, but there wasn't anything worth diving for.
Like a big pool,
the lake had no flora or fauna, just water and the sandy bottom.

Eric went back to the shallows. He liked to play a little game: he would fall to the bottom while breathing out completely, hug the ground, propel himself out of the water, breathe in, and slowly let it out again. It was fun.

He experimented with breathing air and water in the same breath, but it was a yucky feeling; not pleasant at all.

Another game he liked to play was to see how long he could hold his breath. He crossed his legs and dropped to the bottom. Since he didn't have to rise for air, the game was simpler, but also less exciting.

Eric's mind wandered, and the tension in his muscles relaxed. It felt good to be in an environment that opened its own world of magic. Eric fished for a word to describe this state to himself, and the word 'meditation' turned up in his mental net. He was slightly revulsed with the word his subconscious presented - after all, meditation is something boring for old people with crunchy bones.
Well, they must be doing it wrong!
Eric overcame the revulsion and accepted the word as his own.

Hmmmmm... breathe in... breathe out...

Time passed, without hurry.

A voice came muffled from above.
Why do you interrupt my meditation?
Yet, he could hear the voice clearly in his mind, and it swirled in his awareness until the sound crystallized into words he could understand.

"The uninterrupted surface of the lake is clear and at balance. When you enter the water, you disrupt that balance. Listen to the waves and align yourself so that the lake is clear again."

Now you tell me...
The words 'listen', 'clear' and 'balance' made sense to Eric, but the sentences on the whole did not. He resumed his meditation and focused on listening.
What do I hear? Nothing...

A while later it occurred to Eric that the 'nothing' he was hearing was actually a static-like background noise:
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Where did that noise come from? Eric noticed the sound of his heartbeat. It pumped not only the blood in his veins, but it also caused small vibrations in his body that went out and came back to him as tiny waves of water. He heard the sound of his underwater breath - water whooshing in and whooshing out.

The more he listened, the less he heard. The sounds became feelings on his skin; gentle touches of waves and vibrations.

He recalled the image of his will from the fire attunement ritual: the vision of a great, burning flame. The water around him threatened to extinguish that flame, wave by wave, touch by touch. For a moment he was tempted to lash out, let the flame loose and burn away the whole lake and evaporate all the water in it. He wasn't sure he could do it, but he wasn't sure he wanted to, either. He let the temptation wash away.

The fire became enclosed by a bubble, and the bubble turned into a wave. This strange fire threaded upon itself, and became a texture of waves Eric could touch with his awareness. The fabric felt smooth, sometimes a bit rough with a loose thread here and there. He still felt he could torch the fabric if he wanted to. As he traced the surface with the touch of his awareness, the threads and waves extended up from the two dimensions of the plane and exploded with movement in all directions - shattering the awareness that observed them.

Eric panicked - his own inner thoughts came back as sensations of touch. The gentle waves of water were not only assaulting his bodily form, but also his mind and sense of identity. He felt himself outside himself; it was alien and terrifying. The waves no longer echoed and bounced back when they hit his form - they went right through.

Where am I?! Who am I?

The questions echoed back recursively with no answer. Stronger than the panic of having no answer, was the echoing annoyance of having asked the question.
Clarity,
Eric thought.
Clear surface of the lake.

Eric, whoever that was, started punching waves in the multidimensional fabric to clear out the echo: a wave gets cancelled out by another wave. Action-reaction.

There was only the undisturbed water and its perfect symmetries.

* * *

"Wake up, water child! Or should I say, young elementalist."

Eric opened his eyes. He was sitting on the sandy beach of the lake, legs crossed and hands resting softly upon his knees. He noticed he was no longer breathing water, but air.
Did I fail?
He felt every touch of the light breeze on his skin, pulling and pushing gently.

"Can you stand?" Maeve offered her hand to help.

"I think so." He reached for her hand and pulled himself up. His legs wobbled a little and he kicked out to stretch them, one after the other. There was something tangled on his foot; he reached to pick it up.
My boxers!
Eric was stark naked - and embarrassed. He fumbled to put his shorts back on right away.

Thankfully, Maeve made no comment.

"Did I fail? How did I get out the water?"

"No, you didn't fail." She laughed. "Did you get out of the water, or did the water get out of you? You have withdrawn from each other - how else could we enjoy this beautiful lake?"

Compared to before, Eric felt like his will waved back and resynced, reverberating from the edges of his form. Or perhaps he was just more secure in his identity with his boxer shorts back on.

It was a long day...

Absent-mindedly, Eric reached for a flat stone and threw it horizontally towards the lake. It skipped about a dozen times before it submerged.

Repetition might not be the mother of learning, but it is the mother of conditioning!

- Spells and Wizardry, Dreamer's Handbook

"Rose, right? I remember you. If you ever visit the Outpost, I'll make sure to find you a mentor in negotiation and diplomacy."

Before Mr. Smith arrived, the three of them were lounging in the benevolent shade of a big tree. Eric felt rested - really rested, as if he slept through a week straight. Through the attunements, he caught a glimpse of the many things going on inside him; he gained confidence and hope for the future ahead. Lucy and Rose seemed to share his contemplative disposition.
Did the girls grow a finger-width taller, or is my memory messing with me?

"Joe asked me to run you through the basics of ritual magic. It should do you good, especially in light of your recent experiences." Mr. Smith wiped a low-hanging branch out of his face. "Ritual magic makes it easier to channel the elemental energies into their proper places and keep your consciousness finely honed. I have time now, but we could also schedule a class for a later time. Which do you prefer?"

Eric didn't know what ritual magic was, but he enjoyed Mr. Smith's nightmare examination class. Mr. Smith was wearing the same tie-less suit, and even the collar of his shirt was tightly buttoned.
Won't he choke?
As an assurance, Eric ran his fingers through the neckline of his own t-shirt. He noticed Rose and Lucy looking at him, waiting for him to say the decision out loud.

"Sure," Eric said. "We can do it now."

They began to stand up, but Mr. Smith gestured for them to stay and sat down next to them. He cracked his fingers.

"If you ask focus item users, they'll say that ritual magic is an obvious offshoot of focus magic, since concentrating and channeling is the primary domain of focus magic. If you ask elementalists, they will say that ritual magic is part of earth magic, as it deals with formation and stability. There are other theories too, but I prefer a simpler viewpoint." He paused.

"Humans are creatures of habit. You are young and may not fully realize the impact of this statement. As you grow and become more experienced, you'll notice people around you falling into obvious habitual patterns: thought patterns, emotional responses, social behavior - in about that order. People become predictable, and even worse, they develop a certain blindness towards themselves."

Mr. Smith thumped on his knee.

"Habits are powerful things. If uncontrolled, habits are something that happen to you, something that you fall into. The most devious nightmares appear when your fear gains control of your habits. In such a state, the breaking of habits is of utmost importance."

"Thankfully, habits can be controlled, and moreso, consciously cultivated. On the individual level, most of ritual magic is about harnessing the power of such cultivated habits. Can you tell me what you think a magic spell is?"

Lucy took out her handbook and started flipping through it.

"An incantation," Rose said.

"A formula?" Eric asked.

"An incantation or a written formula is often a part of a spell, but rarely the wholeness of it. If we're talking about a formula in the sense of an algorithm, then we're closer to the mark," Mr. Smith said.

Lucy found what she was looking for and read aloud from the book: "...every magic spell is in fact the habitual application of ritual magic: a string of gestures, movement, mental or emotional steps etc. that can efficiently, reliably, quickly and repeatably lead to the desired magical outcome."

"Hey, that's cheating! You're not supposed to read the answer from the book," Rose said.

Lucy slammed the book shut. "No, it isn't."