Major Detours

by Zachary Sergi

  “I thought it was fascinating,” I say, trying to be honest without getting specific. “And illuminating. I have about a million questions about how it was made.”

  “Well, I’m thrilled to hear that, Chase,” Brendan says, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “Especially since you exited through a very special door. You see, everyone is welcome to join The Lianist Way as members, at whatever level of engagement they choose. But we’re being a bit more selective about who we invite to become the first-wave leaders of our movement. And exiting through that door means you passed our Potential Guide metrics with flying colors. I don’t know which doors your friends will emerge through, but before they do, you have one final question to answer.”

  Brendan rolls toward me and reaches into a pocket on his wheelchair. He then holds out two tarot cards, one in either hand. I realize these cards must be from the printed Perillian deck, because their imagery looks both wildly familiar and abstractly different. In his left hand Brendan holds the Six of Swords, arranged with the same symbolism as the gate outside. In his right hand Brendan holds The Star, shining singularly in a night sky.

  “Chase, you are officially invited to join The Lianist Foundation as a Guide-in-Training, to fulfill the unique purpose you designated in your Hermetic Dawn reading. I imagine you’re back to school soon, but should you accept, you’d be welcome to take weekend web-seminars to fulfill your potential. Then, next summer, you’d have a Guide job here waiting for you. Most importantly, you’d become a vital part of the team building The Lianist Foundation as we open, helping shape our organization from root to branch. We can discuss the full details later, if you choose to take the Six of Swords, our official Lianist symbol.”

  Brendan holds this card a little higher, glancing down at it with pride.

  “However, if you don’t wish to join us formally as a Guide, you’re always welcome to remain a part of The Lianist Way as a member, either casually or actively involved in the sector you identified. Of course, you’re also free to fully move on, taking with you whatever lessons might have resonated. If you choose this trail, The Star is yours to take as a token of the experience.”

  Looking down at the cards in Brendan’s hands, I find I am once again presented with objects that carry heavy meaning. I decide instantly that, whichever card I choose, I will keep it with me—maybe it can even become my own externalized mantra, like Logan’s fidget spinner still in my pocket. After all, this card can symbolize all that I’ve learned on this trip and all the ways I’ve grown.

  The question now remains: What trail do I think will enable me to continue growing and uncovering mysteries?

  I reach forward and take the Six of Swords. I accept the invitation to join The Lianist Foundation as a Guide because it feels like I’m meant to belong here.

  Click here

  I reach forward and take The Star. I decline the invitation to join The Lianist Foundation as a Guide because I need to continue defining things on my own terms.

  Click here

  I take the Six of Swords from Brendan and the smile that spreads on his face is almost as bright as the sunlight pouring in. And why shouldn’t it be? The Lianist Way seems to take the best of the Perillian tarot and expand upon it in the right direction. It feels so similar to the work I’ve done on myself, I can’t ignore it.

  “Most excellent,” Brendan says, reaching out his other hand to shake mine. “This is the first step in a very beautiful journey, Chase. I couldn’t be more thrilled to have someone with your spirit and knowledge on board.”

  “Can I tell the others about this invitation?”

  “That’s up to you,” Brendan answers. “Out of respect for their privacy, I’ll have you wait outside while each of them exits. I don’t know if they’ll emerge through your Guided door, but at the very least they’ll be invited to join as members, in the designations that feel most vital to them. Then it will be time for you all to recover the Queen of Swords.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, feeling that familiar tension return.

  “You’ll learn in a moment, but it basically means a hike. The Queen has been here all along, waiting for you and your friends to arrive.”

  Brendan then turns, wheeling toward another doorway across the sun-drenched room, where I’ll wait while the others exit.

  “So you all have one last peak to reach—literally. As it has been said, the journey of self-discovery is like spiraling up a mountain, returning to the same points over and over, just from higher perspectives.”

  Brendan turns back to look at me as I follow, another grin creasing his face.

  “I cannot wait to see what this new perspective brings, now that we’ve all found one another.”

  I can’t help but smile back at Brendan. Whatever the future holds, I’ve learned this much by now: sometimes decisions that seem to affect the least in the present have the greatest ripple effects on the future.

  Click here

  I take The Star from Brendan and he sighs. I don’t want to disappoint him, but I know that the paths ahead of me lead elsewhere. Especially because, despite what Brendan believes, I don’t think The Lianist Way has changed all that much from Perillianism. I don’t want to judge—I haven’t exactly seen myself clearly for a long time, either. But if I’m going to evolve, I need to forge some new ways.

  “I’d still be interested in keeping up with the work you’re doing here,” I say.

  “Right you are,” Brendan replies, reaching out his now-empty hand to shake mine. “You’ll find The Lianist Way is incredibly flexible, so I do hope you’ll stay in touch. It’s rarer than you might think to meet bright young people who show such insightful commitment, especially to the tarot.”

  “Can I tell the others about this invitation?”

  “That’s up to you,” Brendan answers. “Out of respect for their privacy, I’ll have you wait outside while each of them exits. I don’t know if they’ll emerge through your Guided door, but at the very least they’ll be invited to join as members, in the designations that feel most vital to them. Then it will be time for you all to recover the Queen of Swords.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, feeling that familiar tension return.

  “You’ll learn in a moment, but it basically means a hike. The Queen has been here all along, waiting for you and your friends to arrive.”

  Brendan then turns, wheeling toward another doorway across the sun-drenched room, where I’ll wait while the others exit.

  “So you all have one last peak to reach—literally. As it has been said in the tarot, every ending is a beginning, starting a new cycle of self-discovery at a higher level.”

  Brendan turns back to look at me as I follow, a sad smile creasing his face.

  I nod at Brendan, because I can certainly agree with his sentiment. Whatever the future holds, I try to remember this much—sometimes decisions that seem to affect the least in the present have the greatest ripple effects on the future.

  Click here

  Sweat collects on my forehead as we scale this final mountain trail, but I try to put that out of my mind. Right now there’s too much at stake to be distracted by physical discomfort.

  Once the four of us are reunited, Brendan reiterated our final task: climb the mountain trail leading out of the house’s backyard, to where the Queen of Swords is kept at the peak. He has never made it up there himself, but apparently he sends a trusted friend regularly to make sure his father’s Sworn monument is still in place. Brendan also said there would be no trials awaiting us there, but rather one final choice to unearth the Queen. This final task was designed to be as straightforward as a sword, hard-edged and long, but Brendan claimed all that was required was belief and perseverance.

  That was an hour ago, and we still have more to climb. Thankfully, Brendan also provided us with hiking gear before we departed. We started with a short discussion of our individual Hermetic Dawn experiences, realizing the type of cards presented among the four of
us was truly diversified. However, the others all exited through a pink door, and they just assumed I did as well. This made me uncomfortable, so I still haven’t told them about my unique Guide invitation. I don’t know why, but it feels like something I should hold on to for myself, for now.

  After this, the trail got steep and we lapsed into silence, punctuated only by our labored breaths. It gave me a chance to absorb my Dawn along with the vista below, a stunning landscape of trees and smaller peaks. It’s only now, as this view settles, that I know it’s time to also settle things with Logan.

  I can’t say I feel exactly ready, but I’m not sure that matters.

  “Think you have the energy to talk?” I ask, turning to him. We’ve hung back a bit behind Amelia and Cleo, who are practically attacking this hiking trail, kicking up a cloud of dust in their wake.

  “Of course,” Logan answers. “I’ve just been waiting for you to be ready.”

  “Well, being in that Hermetic Dawn experience, something really clicked,” I say.

  “Me too, actually,” Logan says. “Turns out I’m much more of a Magician than I think. Or actually, I’m most like the Queen of Wands.”

  “Someone who knows themselves well and always walks with honesty. Yes, Queen,” I relay, somewhat awkwardly.

  Logan laughs, and it’s a sound I realize I’ve missed most of all.

  “Yes, and apparently someone who doesn’t always think about how my honesty will impact others,” Logan follows. “I know you and Amelia seem different in a lot of ways, but I realized you’re actually the same in the way that matters, in a way that sets you apart from me. At your core, you both always think about how your actions will impact others, before everything else.”

  I’ve never really thought of it that way, but hearing Logan say this, it does feel instantly correct.

  “All I mean to say is that I’m sorry for telling you my truth the way I did, even if I didn’t intend to hurt you,” Logan continues. “I do still love you. Being apart from you this way, it was so much harder than I expected. It terrifies me, honestly.”

  Logan looks like he might cry, but he carries on.

  “I know I promised I’d let you decide what works for you, I just needed to say those things first.”

  I realize, with a pang, that Logan didn’t say he wants to stay together monogamously, the way we were. This one thought rips into me once again, opening another chasm in my chest. However, I force myself to acknowledge this insecure pulse and let the feeling pass through me. Then I choose another thought. I tell myself I am wanted. I am worthy. I am no one’s sidekick. Logan loves me for who I am and always has, no matter how our circumstances shift.

  Thinking these better thoughts, I feel my decision settle in my gut, the place where my head meets my heart. I might not be sure it’s the absolute right answer, but if I trust my instincts this way, how can I ever regret my decision?

  “Logan, I think we should take a break when we go to college.”

  Click here

  “Logan, I want to stay together and see if an open relationship works for us.”

  Click here

  “It’s not because I don’t forgive you. Or because I don’t still love you,” I continue, forging forward. “I do forgive you. I do love you. That’s why I think this is right. I don’t want us to ruin what we have, putting it into the precarious position of being with other people. And if I don’t have some kind of clean break, I don’t think I’ll ever let go.”

  Tears form in my eyes as I speak, but I make sure I finish saying everything I need to.

  “And I think we should let each other go, because we love each other. And because I know, deep down, that can outlast anything. It might not always look the same, but I have faith it’ll always be there.”

  Seeing Logan’s face nearly breaks my heart, but that’s only because I can see what’s written there: he knows I’m right.

  “When did you go and get all self-assured on me?” Logan laughs, probably to keep from crying. “Don’t tell me it’s from Seidon hitting on you?”

  I laugh then, too, a nervous release.

  “Definitely not,” I say. “I can do way better than him. I already have.”

  Logan reaches out and pulls me into a hug. Here, holding each other on the side of this mountain, we both break down.

  “I don’t want to do this,” Logan finally says. “But you’re right. I’m just glad you finally see some of what I’ve always seen in you.”

  It feels like my heart literally snaps in half in my chest, a fault line ripping wide open. But then, to my surprise, the crack suddenly feels familiar—like it belongs to me. Someone will love this fractured heart someday, maybe even Logan again. But I’m always going to be the one in charge of mending the tears. There’s so much freedom, so much power, in that notion, it almost makes breaking up with Logan bearable.

  Almost.

  So I kiss Logan and he kisses me back, one last time, for now. I then reach into my pocket and grab the fidget spinner Logan left me, once upon a time.

  “Thank you for this,” I say, wishing I could put into words how much the little piece of metal meant to me. But then I hold it out for Logan to take back.

  “It’s yours to keep,” Logan says, stepping away.

  I shouldn’t accept, but honestly I’m grateful Logan wants to leave me this vital piece of him. I wish I had something to give him in return, like the most important page of wisdom collected in my journal bible, but I left it back in Charvan. Then I realize I actually do have something to give Logan. I reach back into my pocket and pull out the Perillian card, the one Brendan just gifted me.

  “I was going to keep this card as a reminder of the trip, of everything I’ve learned along the way,” I begin. “But I want you to have it.”

  Logan accepts the card with a sad smile. The objects we exchanged might carry different weights, but they still feel balanced in all the ways that matter, old and new. And standing here with Logan, I wonder how it’s possible to feel full and empty at the same time.

  Either way, I know I’ll never let this fidget spinner go. Because if some objects are haunted by history, then some others must be blessed by it, too.

  Click here

  “Chase, are you sure?” Logan asks, unable to hide the hope that springs into his voice.

  “I’m sure I want to try,” I answer. “I’m not sure it will work for me—for us. But there’s only way to find out, right? After these past few days, I know this much: I’m not ready to give you up.”

  “Me either,” Logan says, just before he breaks forward to hug me. It feels so right, his body pressed up against mine. He kisses me then, wild and excited.

  “I love you, Chase.”

  “Of course you do,” I reply, releasing a bit of nervous laughter. “It has recently come to my attention that I’m a bit of a catch.”

  “Hell yeah, you are,” Logan says, kissing me again. “You know, we’ll have to figure out some ground rules. I’ve been thinking a lot about it.”

  “We will. We’ll figure it out as it comes, until we get it right.”

  “Wait,” Logan says, pulling back. “What happened to the Chase I know, the one who obsesses until he has planned his way to the perfect answer?”

  “Oh, he’s still in there. But this new Chase wants to be a little more patient.”

  “Well, I love this new Chase,” Logan says. “And maybe he’ll love the new Logan, more open-minded and empathetic?”

  “I’ll have to think on it,” I joke, hugging Logan again.

  Standing here holding each other, I really don’t know if we’re built to be open, even these new and improved versions of us. I don’t know how this will work, but after our trial separation, I do know we’ll find a way to try. Some things are just worth waiting for—usually the same things that are worth fighting for.

  Reluctantly, I peel myself off Logan, knowing we shouldn’t fall too far behind. Suddenly everything feels charged with potential, even
the most familiar things. But before we keep moving, I reach into my pocket and grab the fidget spinner Logan left me, once upon a time.

  “Thank you for this,” I say, wishing I could put into words how much the little piece of metal meant to me. Still, I hold it out for Logan to take back.

  He does, not needing to say another word.

  Click here

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AMELIA

  THE SUN BEATS down on my face, feeling brighter than ever before. After everything we’ve experienced it might be easy to feel cloudy or confused, but I only feel clearheaded, like the spotless sky above. Maybe it’s this hike, step after strenuous step clearing out the fog. Or maybe it’s the fallout of Rosa’s reads, altering my own vision of myself. Most likely it’s all of it combined, the cumulative weight of this journey pressing me into a diamond.

  It really did feel like all that pressure broke something open inside The Hermetic Dawn. I saw so much of myself, vision after vision. The four of us didn’t talk about our experiences as much as I expected, but then again, something about it felt so personal. Revealing too much feels like I’d be sharing my bedtime prayers or a birthday-candle wish.

  Despite all the cards I saw myself projected into, only one feels stained into my brain: the Queen of Swords, our final missing card. Call it serendipity or call it spooky, but of course I saw myself reflected as the Queen in the Hermetic Dawn experience. That vision has left me with the Sword Queen’s conclusion: soon I will be rewarded with something of great value, but also the responsibility of how to wield it. This Queen also represents harsh grace, cutting through truth while also causing destruction. I can’t stop thinking about her card quote from the Perillian booklet: Rules are for peasants, but context is for royals. It’s something Maggie said to us at the start of this journey, but now it feels like it applies more than ever.