Augur of Shadows

by Jacob Rundle

  The melody continued to woo him further and further into the deep, dark depths of the ocean’s core. The sense of euphoria that had overcome his body was relentless. He couldn’t stop listening to the call. The melody was much like the ancient Greek’s siren song.

  The melody continued to drag Henri deeper. He felt the oceanic pressure on top of his head increasing; he had never felt pressure like this before in his life. His senses of smell and hearing were insignificant. He wondered if he had projected again. The indications of projection were present, yet Henri didn’t know where he was.

  Henri remembered the feeling of being in two places at once, yet it made it difficult to maintain his focus. Only the flag reminded Henri that he was still in Siméon’s apartment as well as the ocean.

  The deepness of the ocean possessed a mystical hold on anyone who ventured into its depths. Henri hadn’t seen Siméon ‘Siméon!’ ‘Where are you?’ He couldn’t see him and started to panic, struggling to free himself in the water. All his efforts though were futile.

  Somehow, he was able to calm his nerves as the piercing blue light appeared again. The mesmerizing song seemed to be coming from the light.

  “What?” Henri couldn’t take his eyes off the light. He had no idea how deep he was, but he couldn’t see anything other than the light. He hated not knowing about his surroundings, but he suddenly felt entirely free of every feeling and emotion that he had.

  “Timoun…Timoun mwen,” a voice emanated from the light. “Calm yourself. There is nowhere for you to go,” the motherly tone warned. She then sang, “Vini isit la.” Henri stretched his hand out towards the light as the singer instructed.

  The internal struggle that he was feeling started to overwhelm him, and he knew that he could not miss her. He had to make his way to the mesmerizing light.

  A masculine voice cut into his trance, “Henri! Henri! Henri!” He closed his eyes. After much struggle, he forced his eyes open, and he saw Siméon standing in front of him with concerned eyes.

  “I… I have… no idea what just happened,” Henri mumbled with tears flowing down his colorless cheeks.

  “Henri, are you okay? What happened?” Siméon asked. Henri proceeded to explain to Siméon the experience he just had in all its majestic, oceanic beauty.

  “Henri…do you have any idea of who that spirit was that was calling you?” Siméon knew the meaning of Henri’s vision, and he was terrified.

  “I have no idea.” He stared at Siméon thinking his reaction was ridiculous.

  “Henri, that voice…that was the voice of a Lwa. The Lwa of the ocean…La Sirèn. There is a story where it says that she will pull you into the ocean, and she will kidnap you, and she will take you to Ginen, our Heaven. In those seven years, she will turn the person into a priest. She’s a very powerful Lwa, and if she has her eyes set on you…. then there is a reason. There has been a lot of activity on the other side.” Siméon knew the significance of the appearance of his spirits, but he didn’t know the exact reason.

  Siméon continued to talk of other encounters that he had experienced with this particular Haitian Lwa. Henri felt uneasy about the whole experience, and he got lost in thought. He almost missed the depths of the ocean, but not enough to want to go back.

  “Henri, this is a significant event. I haven’t seen someone express the gift of sight like you do before. It is almost as if a part of you travels to the person, place or time, and you literally experience the vision firsthand. I have met other seers in my time in Haiti. We believe the Lwa bless certain individuals, and those blessings may be in the shape of spiritual gifts.” Siméon hoped that Henri was listening to him.

  “Siméon…I am sorry, but I don’t want this gift. If that is what you would call this thing? I don’t want to have another target on my back,” Henri barked with a strong defensive tone.

  “What do you mean, Henri? What target?” Siméon wanted Henri to know that he was sincere, but he didn’t understand what he was saying.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Henri collected his thoughts and wanted to change the subject.

  “Okay, Henri. Let me consult the Ancestors, and allow me to see what they tell me,” Siméon suggested. He stood up from his chair, and he started to gather materials that he would need in order to contact the Ancestors.

  “Everyone is able to converse with their dead, but very few are able to speak with the collective, the Ancestors,” Siméon explained while setting up the candles and the water.

  “What’s the difference between ancestors and ‘the Ancestors’?” All of this terminology could be very confusing to an outsider.

  “Like I said, everyone has ancestors, but ‘the Ancestors’ refers to the collective. They involve every single persons’ dead relatives,” Siméon explained. He lit the candles and proceeded to sit down in front of the candles and water. Siméon started praying while Henri sat quietly, waiting for something magical to happen. Henri felt the tingly sensation in his stomach, fingers and toes. He knew something epic was about to happen, and he didn’t even have a chance to tell him about New York and Tim yet.

  CHAPTER 12

  Henri sat quietly for over an hour, waiting for Siméon to come out of his meditation. He wondered what Siméon was doing, and he didn’t understand why his friend felt the need to waste time, sitting in a circle, talking to dead people. He couldn’t believe that he was even considering the possibility of it all.

  Henri finally heard Siméon begin to wrestle around, and he noticed that he looked completely drained of energy by the time he was fully aware again. He was breathing rapid, deep breaths. The color of his eyes had turned almost white, and he had them opened wide. The sweat ran down his neck, and the beads of perspiration had put out the candles, causing the room to become dark.

  “Siméon, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Henri asked panicking. Henri rushed over and placed his hand on Siméon’s shoulder.

  “Non!” Siméon was struggling to acclimate with reality.

  “Adye Bondye! Adye Bondye!” Siméon uttered repeatedly. Henri had a terrified look on his face, partially because he had no idea why Siméon was reacting this way.

  “I saw everything. They gave me a vision of what is to come. I saw all of the destruction, the debris, and the death. I have never seen anything like it ever. It was horrific.” Siméon’s face expressed a look of pure terror.

  He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. Henri realized that he made a mistake and needed to take everything seriously.

  “Listen, Henri. I have been instructed to show you what the Ancestors showed me.” Henri knew that it was time, and Siméon remained stoic.

  “Why?” Henri tried to change the subject, but he knew his efforts were futile.

  “Tonight has been about you receiving the truth. You have been asking yourself for the truth, no?” Siméon had placed himself in the authority figure position during spiritual ventures, and Henri found it interesting.

  “Yes, I have been asking. Okay, let’s do this,” Henri said hesitantly. “How do you show me what they showed you?”

  “Come here; I’ll show you” Siméon motioned for Henri to join hands with him.

  “Now, sit down with me. I want you to relax and to breathe. Now, Henri, what we are about to do is a kind of link-up. By doing this, we become deeply connected, and we will share experiences: past, present and future. Henri, you need to understand this exchange.” Henri noticed Siméon’s change in persona.

  “Okay, let’s do this, Siméon,” Henri reassured him.

  Henri wasn’t completely honest about the fact that he was terrified. He could feel the sweat starting to form on his forehead, and he worried he was losing control of his focus and his thoughts.

  “Okay, Henri, let’s get started,” Siméon requested as he faced his palms up and instructed Henri to do the same. They both closed their eyes, and they started to fall into an arithmetic pattern of breathing.

  “Henri, try and relax. Open your mind by not thinking
of anything specific.” Siméon knew that Henri understood how to project.

  Henri started to fall into a trance-like state. He could feel a presence around him, protecting and guiding him. The warmth of Siméon’s hands transferred to his hands and his entire body.

  Henri felt his mind splitting into two, a now familiar feeling, indicating to him that he had projected. Henri still wasn’t used to the transition, but he was glad that he had finally ended someplace he might recognize.

  A place where there was a familiar, beautiful, red door in front of him. The door possessed a mystical and magnetic force that demanded Henri’s attention.

  The markings were unknown to him; however, each one seemed strangely familiar to him. He racked his brain to see if he had seen them some other time, but he couldn’t recollect anything. To him, the symbols and lines were intricate, and they seemed to tell a story.

  “Welcome, Henri. I can see that you have found your inner self.” A cloaked figure appeared out of the mists of darkness that now surrounded Henri. He was amazed at the sight of the figure materializing in front of him, leaving him with many questions.

  “Who…who are you?” Henri inquired suspiciously. The figure stood his or her ground, watching over Henri’s actions, before laughing at Henri’s question. The cloaked figured remarked, “All will be revealed in time. You have many things to learn, Henri. You can’t force answers.”

  “Okay,” Henri whispered as he looked around to see who was there.

  “Child, whether you believe it or not, it is happening. More importantly, do you have the courage to step forward and accept your fate?” Henri believed the cloaked one was insightful, but it was acting evasively.

  “I… I don’t know what to believe anymore.” Henri felt his emotions getting the best of him, but he wasn’t able to hide them.

  “You’ll find out. Now, I want you to place your hand on the door, and you must think of a place or a person you want to visit.” Henri had envisioned a creepy old man under the cloak, but he saw a young, feminine hand point towards the door.

  He walked to the door and placed the palm of his hand on the surface. A word popped into his mind: Ancestors. At the same moment, Henri felt a surge of energy emanate from the door and enter him. This formed a connection between him and the door.

  Henri felt connected to every single person, place and animal on Earth. He didn’t know how it was happening, but he knew that he could project anywhere. He was left with the feeling that he truly needed to understand his gift.

  At that instant, the door opened. The view appeared like a scene from Fantasia. Through the threshold of the door, there was what appeared to be another land. There was a house out in the distance, surrounded by arid, desert-like land.

  “Henri, you need to step forward. You need to start walking your path, and it begins with you walking through that doorway.” The cloaked one remained motionless, and Henri realized that he had to make the decision to go forward.

  “You will be safe, I promise you,” the cloaked one assured Henri.

  Henri turned around and stepped through the doorway, feeling an enormous shift in planes as he did so. He instantly felt the difference between the environments. The heat was more intense than New York’s fall breeze. The place resembled an African scene he had seen in National Geographic. He continued to walk towards the solitary house, looking around the area to find anything that he recognized, but there wasn’t anything that stood out.

  Henri observed the painted murals on the outside of the house as he got closer. The images took him back to all the times that his mother would have him read books about all the saints. She still, to this very day, had Henri re-read the Bible because she felt that he would wake up one day and realize that he wanted to be saved.

  One of the murals grabbed his attention more than the others. It showed the image of an African woman, whose stance was that of a regal queen. It mesmerized him. She had a child in her lap and scars on her face. Her very image emitted a presence of fierce motherly protection. At the base of the image were what appear to be gifts of some kind: candles, bottles of sorts, food, and numerous roosters running around unattended. The whole scene made Henri think of a farm, and the peristyle resembled the barn.

  “Henri, we request your attendance,” a mysterious female voice uttered in his mind. He, of course, looked around but didn’t see a single person.

  Henri knew that he must go into the building to meet these Ancestors about whom everyone was speaking. He entered the house not knowing where he should go; however, he heard a cluster of voices as he passed the threshold of the house. He started down the hallway, leading towards the center of the building.

  Henri made his way toward what appeared to be the center of the house. Once he walked through the doorway, he saw hundreds of people having their own conversations. He didn’t recognize any of them. He looked around the room and noticed clothing from many different eras.

  Wow. They all look different. There’s a lady who is wearing a dress from the Victorian era. And there is a man that resembles a Native American. Oh! And there is another woman in a cloak. Where am I?

  “Henri, please enter. We require your presence with the group,” a woman in a dress from the Salem witch trial times requested, and she motioned for Henri to sit.

  “Henri Jacobson-Claye. You are here in front of the Ancestors for reasons unbeknownst to you. Now, is the time in which you will be told of your future. Do you accept this meeting?” She examined Henri’s reaction closely.

  “Um, I…do accept this meeting of the minds,” Henri replied.

  “In no way shape or form will any sarcastic anecdotes be accepted by the Ancestors. My name is Abigail, and you will show me the proper respect. Do you understand me?” She barked back at him, and Henri realized that she was able to read minds.

  “Yes, ma’am. I am sorry.” Henri wished that he could take back his sarcasm.

  As Henri continued to examine the entire room, he noticed a pole directly in the center of the room, and the pole had pictures drawn all over it. There were different colored pieces of fabric tied all over the pole.

  “Timoun mwen, the pole at which you stand adjacent, is what Vodouissants call a Piteau Mitan. It is their connection between Heaven and Earth,” a Haitian woman proceeded to explain.

  “Oh…they believe in Heaven?” Henri asked.

  “Oh, Timoun, you’ll learn many new things on your destiny that you never thought you would. So, you’re here to speak with us, wi?” She inquired softly. Henri enjoyed her more than Abigail. Abigail glanced over at Henri, knowing what he had just thought.

  “Well, yes, ma’am. I want to know,” Henri answered before considering which of his thoughts he should question first.

  “Cursed?” Abigail snapped at Henri. “How can you even think such a question?” Henri stood staring at Abigail, wondering which words didn’t offend her. He felt his blood rush to his cheeks, causing him to blush.

  “Yes, am I cursed? And if so, why?” Henri demanded with tears rolling down his cheeks.

  “Timoun, no more crying. You have much ahead of you, and you must muster up the strength to proceed,” she calmly explained. Henri relaxed a little and was able to release some of his anxiety and fear.

  “What do you mean that I have much ahead of me? No more cryptic meanings, please!” Henri stated with frustration.

  “Henri, calm down and sit. We will give you the answers you need.” Abigail pointed to the chair next to him.

  Abigail approached Henri, and she attempted to make her point understood. “First off, we all are the Ancestors. We are the collective of every single person’s past relatives. More often than not, people may only speak to their own Ancestors. They may leave offerings, gifts, flowers, prayers, etc. To a very select few, they are able to speak and work with us, and there are others who cannot know we exist. Existence depends on balance. Remember that, Henri. Siméon is one of the individuals who has been gifted with the ability to sp
eak with us.”

  “I am like Siméon?” Henri never thought of comparing himself to his friend.

  “No, you’re not the same. You…There are many names for someone like you, depending on the culture. Seer, shaman, witch, or prophet. If you so choose, you may use one of these titles to describe yourself. We do not care which term you use. What you do with your gifts, though, is our business. And I must emphasize the fact that you do not have simple visions astrally to certain times, places, or events,” she explained further.

  “Remember your dream the other night?” an older man asked as he stepped forward to the center of the room.

  Henri wondered what his name was, but he wasn’t going to interrupt because he saw Abigail glaring at him once again. Henri politely waited to answer the man.

  “Yes, I do. I woke up with burn marks up and down my arm.” Henri ran his hand over his arm, feeling the marks.

  “Your subconscious projected your spirit to the future, and you had a vision of what is to come,” the man explained.

  “Thank you, Caisus. This reason is why you must learn to be careful, Henri. You can be hurt or worse, killed,” Abigail added as Henri mentally wrote down the man’s name - Caisus.

  “Wait, I can die during one of these visions?” Henri flashed back to New York and Tim Stevenson.

  The Ancestors did not answer him. They all looked at each other, hoping Henri absorbed what they had just told him. The silence became deafening, and Henri started to become fidgety. He rose from his chair and started to pace back and forth, muttering inaudible words.

  “So, you are saying to me that I can die in these projections? If you are trying to send me to an early grave, I believe that I deserve the right to know why?” He knew that he was acting disrespectfully and out-of-line, but he didn’t care.

  A fourth person stepped forward to address the now-spooked Henri. “Henri, you are the next prophet. And as the prophet, you must prepare yourself. We are not allowed to divulge everything. There is information that is above even our heads. We are only able to guide you and warn you of the on-coming threat your world will experience. You and the other three individuals whose destinies are intertwined with yours will have a duty to prevent their return.”