by Mike Truk
Here we go then. Emma. I want you to focus on Anahata. Withdraw your concentration to your sanctum, and there bond with the sanskara. Engage with it, and remain focused no matter what.
Yes, said Emma, sounding nervous. She closed her eyes and went still.
The self within me sees the self within you, I thought, studying the contours of her face, a face I’d known for what felt like my whole life. The self within me accepts the self within you.
And to myself: Don’t fuck up, Noah. Please please please, don’t fuck up!
As I focused on the Siva, I once again began to speak the words of power that the Wandering Magus had used. Intuitively, I brought my attention to Muladhara and Svadhisthana, the sanskaras of security and love. I felt them open, below and behind me, the great ruby heart becoming exposed, the wheeling golden petals picking up speed.
The Magus’s words, his spell, had been far beyond me when I’d first heard them, and were still. But with conscious effort I released the need to control, to understand, and became a conduit for the magic that poured through me.
From where? I didn’t know. The Source, perhaps.
I allowed the words to pass my lips and the arcane spell to form, drawing from my strength and love. With that potent combination, I entangled my essence with those of my companions.
Slowly, with great effort, I willed our six sanctums to overlap once more.
It was harder this time, taking greater will. But I managed it by slow degrees.
Each was distinct from the other when focused on, but slowly aligned so our Muladharas grew close, touched, then became a fuzzy whole. Six versions of that great-hearted flower aligned, aligned - then became one.
The moment they did I felt a frisson of excitement, a new surge in my power. A power I was expending at a terrible rate, which I’d never have been able to keep up by myself - but was ever-regenerating while connected to my companions.
The closest I’d ever come to feeling like this was back on Ghogiel, when I’d tapped into the vast flow of power that ran through the crystal conduits. When I’d merged my sense of self with the enormity of the Source’s magic.
When I’d nearly lost myself to that vast ocean of impersonal glory.
I saw our different sanskaras. Everyone had Muladhara. Only I had Svadhisthana, the second sanskara of creativity and sexuality. Manipura was also mine alone, while Anahata wheeled and burned in Emma’s sanctum.
Imogen’s Vishuddha burned bright, advanced and powerful, while her Ajna sanskara, the sixth in the chain, was brilliant just above it.
Nobody had Sahaswara, though I thought I saw a faint shadow of it looming above all the others, a sense of potentiality.
Who had that, I wondered? I couldn’t tell.
The moment was precious, and while it felt infinite while it lasted, I knew I couldn’t remain here indefinitely.
I had to decide, had to choose one sanskara to draw across into the sanctums of the others.
For a moment I contemplated Manipura. I envisioned all of us flying as one, taking to the air to spear straight toward our targets, trivializing obstacles, walls, geographic distances. Fighting from above, raining down death -
But I recalled with bitter clarity how the Ur-Gharab guards had hurled their spears of black light up at where I’d flown.
I’d been to defend myself.
No.
There was only one real choice.
With reluctance, I turned my attention away from the burning sun of Manipura, and focused instead on Emma’s Anahata.
It was nascent, barely present in her sanctum, having been tapped only days ago. I could intuit on some level how its powers were restricted, limited to just healing, and how a far greater potential lurked within its heart.
I contemplated the green flower, its petals fat and fleshy like those of a succulent. Another circle of smaller, pointed petals revolved within its outer edge, and a third circle of petals within that. Its core was a fractal heart of viridian and azure flecks of light which danced in an intricate pattern; the more I studied it, the more it seemed to reach out to me.
Love. Connection. It was different from Svadhisthana’s more sexual energy, which sizzled and seared, seeking to burn and mark flesh with its ardor. In Anahata, I sensed acceptance, a unifying bond between the body and spirit, a great benevolence that sought to uplift and cherish.
I extended my hands, exhaled deeply, and pulled.
I nearly blacked out as a torrent of power flooded forth from me. My companions staggered, several of them falling to their knees, and slowly, with our sanctums overlapped, I brought Anahata forth. I wrested it through our spiritual layers, linking us all to Emma, bursting boundaries, and flooding us all with love.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Every fiber of my spirit self-strained, and my mind felt tested to the point of rupture. I was shouting forth the words of the spell, and Muladhara was roaring, its crimson heart burning like a pyre; Manipura spun, its dark core a black hole in my heart.
We crossed a threshold. Anahata slotted into place, and became present in all six sanctums.
As one, we marveled as its green petals began to rotate within our cores.
With a cry, I released the spell, and our sanctums split apart, exploding outward and fading from my point of view.
Reeling, feeling like a reed after a storm, I turned and looked up.
And within my sanctum, I saw a new presence. Above Manipura’s dark sun hung the emerald flower of Anahata. Its revolutions were slowing, its petals closing, until it ceased to move and just hung there in the void before my golden filament.
That was… Imogen pressed a hand to her glowing brow. Incredible. I’ve never heard of the like. In all my studies. In all my years at the Academy…
I can see it, whispered Valeria, eyes wide. It’s… it’s….
Beautiful, said Brielle, voice hoarse.
But it’s closed, said Valeria, panic rising in her voice. Did I do something wrong? Does it not like me? Did I -
Easy, Valeria, said Imogen. You simply must bond with it first, like any new sanskara. We all must.
Neveah stood tall once more, staring like the rest of us out into a private space. Welcome back, old friend, she whispered, and I felt a chill run down my arms.
How… all right. Yes. Valeria visibly took control of her emotions. We must focus on it, correct?
Yes, said Imogen, her voice barely containing her excitement. And pour magic into it, refine that magic, and cycle it back into our sanctum. We’re all first circle, but once we refine, we’ll rise to third. Then we can start focusing on summoning wards.
Summoning wards, said Brielle, then clenched her fist. Yes!
Can we do this for all our sanskaras? asked Emma. I’d love to fly. Just saying.
I… I don’t know? I rubbed at the back of my head. Maybe? I wasn’t really in control there. Something was working through me. If it comes back, then… I guess we can?
The Source, said Neveah. I remember… no. It’s gone. But our being bonded now, all of us, allows you to touch the Source directly. I’ve a memory of Ilandro… he did something with Shard… She frowned, gave a shake of her head. I’m sorry. I almost had it.
Time to bond, said Imogen, tone brisk. We need to focus our intentions if we’re to have time to practice with our wards. Everyone, I want you to focus on Anahata - float before it, cross-legged, hands on your knees.
The figures of my five companions slowly grew translucent, though they never faded away altogether. After allowing myself a moment to savor our victory, I floated to the great emerald flower and hovered before it.
Now, said Imogen, voice dreamy and distant. Focus on your fifth sanskara. Anahata. Feel its love pulsing through your body, your spirit. Feel its love like a radiant golden light that washes over you without judgment, without reserve. It accepts you totally. As you are. Your faults, your strengths. Reach for it. Sense it. Embrace it.
Instinctively I assumed the position of seiza, the kneeling
posture of meditation I’d learned what felt like eons ago, back in Sensei Rocco’s dojo.
I allowed my doubts and fears to fall away. Gently directing my energies at the emerald flower, I reached for it with my intentions, my power.
Its warmth pushed back like heat from the open door of an oven.
And it felt so good.
Muladhara afforded me a sense of security, the shielding arm of a warrior or the protective embrace of a mother. But Anahata was different, an affirming love, one that was willing to risk vulnerability, that encouraged raw openness; for you to lower your walls, to cease being self-aware, to simply be yourself, and be loved.
It was… overwhelming.
In the green light of the emerald sanskara, I finally felt seen. A sight that wasn’t tempered or refracted through the thoughts and biases and hopes of another person.
Seen by the Source.
Like a fist unclenching, I slowly relaxed, allowing the doors in my mind to unlatch and swing open.
Before that light, that all-seeing love, there could be no secrets, no hidden parts of the self.
Thoughts and memories began to spill forth, and with them a sense of panic.
All of me was laid bare.
From my moments of glory to my deepest regrets.
A kaleidoscope of images flashed through my mind. I stood beside Victor with an ax in my hand, staring down at the Lilith worshipper whose head I was to clumsily lop off. I sat with my companions in our hidden room deep under Tagimron, a bottle spinning between us all, laughing and feeling loved. I watched Michael loop an arm around Emma’s neck and pull her into a laughing kiss, the worm of envy squirming in my core. Saw Salathis’s shock as I cut his neck open, breaking my oath to the Source. Saw myself defy Shalarra as I vouched for Neveah’s right to be in my group. Saw myself weeping in Sandovar’s study, chained to the wall, my mind close to shattering.
Moments of strength. Moments of weakness. Moments of bravery. Moments of cowardice. I saw myself love, saw myself hate. Sensei Rocco smiling at me as I executed my first sweep, taking down my opponent at the small tournament he’d entered his dojo. Brielle’s look of disgust the first time she saw me. My mother’s face as she held me, her smile warm, her expression half-amazed.
I felt her love, felt it grow and envelop me. A world-spanning love. The unconditional love of a mother for a child, a love that grew as I did, became more than that of my mother’s. A love that cherished me even at my darkest, finding me worthy even at my weakest.
It was too much.
I didn’t deserve such tenderness.
Tears were running down my cheek, and a great sob was fighting to rise through my chest. I wanted to hold it back, knowing that if it burst forth, it would be the first of many.
You are loved, came a voice, deep and wide as the ocean. You are loved.
I struggled against it, sought to refute it. I didn’t feel worthy, didn’t feel good enough.
You are loved, came the voice again, overriding my protests.
Anahata opened, its emerald petals slowly stirring to life, revealing its viridian and azure core.
I felt its emerald light burn away the last of my reserves, and let out a jagged laugh even as I wept. Amazed and overcome, I delighted in the bliss that poured forth even as I fought the urge to turn away.
To allow my shame and despair, my weakness and darkness reject this love, this light, this apotheosis.
Now, clear your reservoir, came Imogen’s voice, but oh, how her voice had changed. Gone was the cool tones of a master teaching her pupils. She sounded raw, wounded. I could only imagine what she’d seen and experienced as Anahata had opened to her. Focus on your sanskara, sink your consciousness into it, allow it to respond to you, to open. Then, once you have gained admittance, allow your power to filter through you and grow clear.
I’d proceeded quicker than she’d anticipated, had already bonded with my sanskara.
All that remained was to cycle and purify.
I closed my eyes, about to do so, when a wretched cry shook the walls of my reservoir.
I jerked around, losing my connection to Anahata, and saw Valeria backing away, hands raised as if to fend something off, shaking her head as she wept.
No! No, I can’t, I… this isn’t right, I…
I dove down to where her spirit body hovered. Emma was present as well. Imogen, Neveah, and Brielle remained translucent.
Valeria? I moved closer. What’s wrong?
I - I - She was staring through me, her whole body shaking, her hands still raised.
Valeria! I moved forward, and took hold of her wrist, feeling a jolt of connection pass between us as I did so. It’s me, Noah. You’re all right. You’re okay.
I… She froze, eyes finally focusing on me, then her face crumpled into grief. Oh, Noah.
And she stepped forward to embrace me, to hold me tight.
I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her back.
Emma remained just a step away, brow furrowed with concern.
Talk to me, I whispered. What happened?
I couldn’t do it. Valeria pressed her brow to my neck, then stepped back reluctantly. But I will. I’ll succeed this time. I know it.
Anahata? asked Emma. The process of bonding to it?
Valeria couldn’t meet our gaze. I… it showed me… things I’ve tried to forget. From back home.
The siege of Japhar? I asked.
After that. Her voice was a cracked whisper. The final weeks. Retreating to the Silver Caravel. The things I did, the things I had to do. I… I…
Her face crumpled again as another sob wracked her, then her cry rang out, desperate and raw: I had no choice!
And a vision had vouchsafed me, a memory from Bastion: Shalarra before the great table, reading our fates and drawing forth the Five of Chalices for Valeria’s past.
I heard Shalarra’s voice as if she stood beside me: This symbol speaks of a lack of fulfillment, of disappointment, of being trapped in self-pity and loss. A lack of faith in the future, of having trouble letting go of the past and learning from your mistakes. Bitter memories plague you, the past haunts you, leaving you feeling inadequate and consumed by guilt.
I embraced Valeria again, and felt a pang of real concern. I’d been remiss. I’d not been attending to her difficulties as I should have, hadn’t realized how deeply she was feeling… unworthy of love?
How else could I explain her turning away from Anahata?
Then again, hadn’t I nearly done the same?
It’s all right, said Emma softly, moving forward to place a hand on Valeria’s shoulder. You can try again when you’re ready.
I’m ready now, said Valeria, voice growing hard. I can face anything from my past. I know I can.
If you’re sure, I said.
I am. She all but glared at me. You don’t think I can do it?
No - what? I mean you need to be gentle with yourself. This shit is brutal. I nearly broke down channeling Anahata myself.
But you didn’t, said Valeria, then turned to stare at the translucent companions around us. Nor did they.
I didn’t know what to say.
Valeria took a deep breath, wiped her cheeks dry, and settled her shoulders. I’m going to try again.
You can do it, said Emma.
Valeria gave a curt nod and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply, her face stern with concentration, she slowly grew translucent.
I shared a concerned look with Emma. But with Valeria right before us, I decided not to speak, and instead turned to contemplate Anahata once more.
Rising, soaring past Manipura’s burning black sun, I rested in seiza before the emerald flower.
Its petals opened to embrace me, to flood me once more with its joyous affirmation.
How could Valeria reject this love?
I closed my eyes, focusing on channeling my magic into the sanskara, into cleansing it through the emerald core. For an endless eternity, there was only the glory of love, of my
very sense of self being cleansed, filtered, accepted.
It was glorious.
Eventually, I felt the need to bond with the sanskara diminish, and upon opening my eyes, I saw that my reservoir was filled with clear power, the crimson tint of Muladhara gone.
Anahata revolved before me, then slowed, furled its petals, and went dormant.
I floated down to where the others were gathered.
I was the last to finish, and they turned to me, excitement writ large across their features.
We’ve voted, said Emma. Time to experiment with our wards.
Agreed, said Brielle. I can’t wait to find out what color mine is.
Really? I asked. That’s what you’re focused on?
Brielle placed a hand on her hip and looked at me with disdain. Not everything need be about blood and war, Noah Kilmartin. There is and shall always be room for style.
I laughed and sneaked a glance at Valeria. She looked grim but satisfied, as if she’d wrestled a foe into submission. She’d found success, then.
All right, I said. See you all topside.
I opened my eyes to find myself once more upon the massive bed, my companions stirring around me. Little Meow sat upright from where she’d been lounging off to one side in a chair.
“Did it work?” she asked.
“It did,” said Imogen, bounding off the bed in an unusual display of enthusiasm. “It worked brilliantly. Noah is a genius.”
“Or a perfectly satisfactory conduit for the Source,” said Brielle, stretching in a feline manner. “Always a possibility.”
Emma was frowning. “I can feel Anahata as before, but now it’s different. I can’t quite tell how or why.”
“I pushed for greater access,” I said. “When I looked at you before, you had limited connection. Now we should all be able to get wards up.”
“Excellent,” said Valeria, rising to her feet. “Question is, how?”
“I have… experience with wards,” said Neveah, also coming to her feet. She gathered her thick mane of dark hair behind her and tied it off with a thong. “Follow me.”
We did so, filing back out into the pool chamber, and arrayed ourselves around the steaming waters, our attention turned to Neveah.
“The memories are coming back to me. In time, raising a ward will become instinctual, and you’ll do so as needed without conscious thought. But for now, you will need to focus, and practice until you have the equivalent of muscle-memory.”