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|ć A Dream of Fire: Chapter 12 ā Wake Me Up ć|

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|ć A Dream of Fire: Chapter 11 ā Deeper the Wounded, Deeper the Roots: Part 1 ć|
I slowly step inside the empty, desolate home that once, maybe in another life at this point, housed so many beautiful memories. For me, for my family. I felt the power from a mile away once upon a time. Now? Nothing. I look around at the empty space that I once felt was a place I could call home. A place where a part of my soul livedā¦ lives. Sometimes I forget that Iām the one that has left them, not the other way around. They mourn me, but theyāre alive. Theyāre still there.Ā
The cold, cracked walls moan around us with what seems like the weight of the world on its back. Slowly, I move further into the house, my eyes wandering to where the kitchen once was. I can see Ra and Kai making their famous peanut brittle, smiles adorning both of their faces. I wonder if theyāre here right now. In my world. Itās hard to imagine them here, in this place. The warmth of their souls are no match for this frigid world. At least, not my baby Blue. I try to picture the twins as being just as bright and full of life as Kai, radiant and happy. Although, I know she must be feeling my absence from her. I know I feel it every day that I linger in this godforsaken place. And thatās exactly what this place isā¦ forsaken. Cursed.Ā
I feel the anger rise in me, my fists tightening as I breathe deeply. I donāt notice, until Nael comes back to me from wherever he ventured ahead of me to, that Iāve been stopped. Marveling at the contrast between my world and this one. Dread slowly finds its way to my mind and I struggle to come out of it. I feel like my body is frozen. Like if I move any further into this altered construct of my reality, that it will become |too| real. Too real for me to handle.Ā
āI cainātā¦āĀ
My voice cracks under the pressure of the raw sincerity behind my words. I canāt move. My body feels frozen in place. Like Iām frozen in time and space. And, maybe in some way, I am. Nael approaches me, stepping close until I can feel the warmth radiating from him. For a moment, I feelā¦ something. Something familiar but still, somehow, unknown radiates through me and, as Nael gently grips either side of my arms, his eyes gaze into mine.
āYou can. You must. If you want to find a way back to them, you must.āĀ
Itās the thing that I didnāt know I needed. The thing that has kept me alive and going through all this mess and turmoil Iāve experienced in my short time here in this realm. Itās hope. Hope that maybe I can get back. Not the same way I came, but a different path entirely. His words steel me and I feel the lump that was once forming in my throat, threatening to betray my every insecurity, slowly dissipate.Ā
Nodding at Nael, I follow him to where he came from, and to the master bathroom where I see heās set up an entire ritual. Candles, oils, herbs, and a drawing on the floor that Iāve never seen before. Itās an intricate symbol and right in its center is the bathtub, filled with water. Iām cautious. More so because this is magic that Iāve never seen before and Iām left defenseless while putting my trust in Nael. By this point, he has begun to prove to me that he means me no harm but, in this place, I canāt bring myself to trust wholeheartedly that his only motive in this is to help me. Especially because he gains nothing from helping me.Ā
Well, he hopes to gain his Queen. But Iām not |her|.
āWhatās allāis? Itās lookinā like ya tryna send me ta the shadow realm.ā
I jest, hoping that my relaxed demeanor will aid in pulling the truth from him.
āI wouldnāt use |those| words, specifically. Butā¦ close.ā
He gives me an easy grin and walks around the clawfoot bathtub, the paint chipping in every imaginable crevice and the legs rusted from the moist air. When he speaks again, his voice is soft, as if heās trying to soothe me into this process rather than thrusting it upon me.
āThe water is meant to serve as a medium between worlds. Since you can no longer feel your magic within you, we must provoke it. Magical beings tend to have fail safe systems within them where their magic hides to either protect itself or to protect its vessel. In this case, I believe it to be the latter.ā
I can feel his eyes surveying my reaction with every word he speaks. And, I have to admit, Iām terrified. He uses the word provoke like my magic is to be unwillingly, for lack of a better term, pulled from me. Like my magic is burrowed so deep inside of me that only a threat to my wellbeing is what will pull it out of hiding.Ā
āSo, I gotta get in there. Then what?ā
āThen, weāll see. There is no telling what will need to be done for this to work. However, this is where we start. If this works, the spell cast will present a physical manifestation of your consciousness. Where it puts you, is up to you.āĀ
|I breathe deeply as I keep my eyes on the bathtub in front of me. The way he tells it, this is my only option to reach my family on the other side. So, even if it kills me, thereās no real choice here. My mind struggles to wrap around the intricacies of the magic heās performing here, but I trust that the sincerity in his voice is genuine. Slowly, I kick both of my shoes off and toss them aside before I can think too hard and convince myself that I donāt need to do this.
For the first time in a long time, Iām out of my depth here.Ā
I walk toward the tub and carefully step in. Surprisingly, the water is warm and I look up at Nael in silent thanks. Thereās no way any water that came from this house is heated in any way. Itās just one more way heās shown that my comfort is on his mind. Gripping the sides of the tub, I slowly lower myself into the water, my body shaking from fear both known and unknown. I know this could kill me. Thatās the simplest part of this entire thing. But what I |donāt| know, is what will happen if this works.Ā
Nael moves next to me and kneels on one knee next to the tub. Looking up at him, Iām breathing deeply and his gaze silently tells me that he will do everything he can to make sure I make it out alive. Whether it be in this world or my own.Ā
āTake a deep breath, Dereon.āĀ
Thereās no point in stalling. I nod in his direction and breathe deeply, leaning back until every inch of my body is submerged in the warm water. Nael reaches forward and presses his hand against my chest, slowly pushing me down until my back is pressed against the bottom of the cold ceramic.Ā
Nothingā¦ Nothing happens at all. The water is still and quiet other than the soft movements my body makes just beneath the surface. I let out a bubble of air every now and then until I feel my body slowly starting to panic from lack of oxygen. Itās not gonna fucking work. Fuck. I push against Naelās hand, signaling that itās time for a break. I didnāt even know I could hold my breath for this long to begin with, but he doesnāt budge. Looking up at him through the clear water, I grip his wrist with one of mine and attempt to push his arm away. But he wonāt budge.Ā
What is he doing?! Heās supposed to be |preventing| my demise, not orchestrating it. My grip on his arm tightens and I lift my other arm from the water in an attempt to reach his face. Maybe I can hit him or scratch him and it will make him release me. But I canāt reach him. I open my mouth, instinctually, to scream in hopes that someone will hear me. But, instead, I feel my lungs burn as they slowly start to fill with water.Ā
The pain is excruciating. Mind numbing. My body thrashes in the water, refusing to give up yet. But Iām fighting an uphill battle. I canāt find anything to grab a hold of to get a better position. Not the edge of the tub, not even Naelās arm holding me down. My nails scratch at his skin, but to no avail.Ā
Then, like a switchā¦ Darkness. That which is all too familiar to me. Slow, deep darkness.
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|ć A Dream of Fire: Chapter 10 ā The Road Less Traveled: Part 2 ć|
We make our way out of the house and onto two horses that lay in wait for us. I rode horses as a child, so I donāt need any help mounting mine. And, as I look over at NaĆ«l, I see the hint of an impressed glance.
āI know some thangs.ā
I smile at him. Genuinely. And he returns my smile. The longer I spend with him, the more comfortable I become. Especially now with my magic being dormant and him being the only semblance of protection I have right now. With everything Iāve been through this far, Iām still skeptical of the comfort. But for that same reason, I find myself gravitating toward his comfort. Everywhere else I look, all I feel is the cold sting of deception and nothing has ever felt |so| cold.
As we ride, he follows closely behind. I know where weāre headed and, as I follow along the road I would usually travel on in my car, I find the road reclaimed by nature. Grass covers the once black asfalt and Iām wondering if this, too, is a result of the magical beingsā war against one another. In some ways, it could be seen as a positive. Let the forces that once killed all that is natural in this world kill one another so that the earth can heal. But, on the darker side, how many beings have died to make this a reality? How many lives lost?
Itās easy to think of everyone on this plane as deserving with all the wrongdoing Iāve witnessed this far, but even with darkness shrouding my consciousness, I sympathize. For the VooDoo covens who must have been here before all of this happened. For the witches who fight for their existence to mean more than just a battle of strong versus stronger. How many different species were alive on this plane that are now never to be seen or remembered again? As I think, my eyes avert to NaĆ«lās as he strides next to me.
āWhat happened ta the VooDoo covens? I meanā¦. if this a similar version of the New Orleansāa my time, how come we aināt come ācross none of |my| kind yet?ā
As if he knew what I was going to ask, his eyes stay forward on the stretch of road ahead. My own expression becomes defensive. Of what? I donāt know. But the way his muscles tense and relax and the vibrations of his perturbed energy I receive make me think, just like before, that thereās something heās not telling me. It takes him a moment. Maybe to figure out what to say to me or maybe what not to say. When he finally does speak, his voice is deep and somewhat stern.
āThat is something I cannot speak on. But I know someone that can.ā
He finally looks over at me, his gaze asking or almost begging me not to push any further. And, as a gesture of good faith, I donāt. For now. Instead, I look ahead just as he had before.
āNot anothāa Seer, I hope. I aināt gonā be too receptive to anothāa trap. āSpecially since my magic aināt beinā cooperative.ā
Even I can hear the renewed optimism in my voice. Part of me thinks itās because we are closer to home than I have been since I got here.
āHe is not a Seer. But he is wiser than any Seer Iāve ever met.ā
I donāt look over at him as he speaks. I donāt even ask any more questions about who this mystery man is. I donāt want to become any more attached to this plane than I have to and if this plan works, I could be on my way to getting back home. Just as the thought crosses my mind, I see the makings of a house in the distance. The sight makes my heart pound hard in my chest and I gently kick my horse's side, signaling her to run toward our destination.
The hundred feet or so that it takes us to reach the house feels like a hundred years.
But, when we finally |do| reach it, where once I felt the aching of my quickened heartbeat, I now feel the sting of pain. The beautiful house where Ra lives in my plane isā¦. Abandoned. In every sense of the word.

The house Iām seeing now looks nothing
like Raās house in my world. Itās a shell of a home thatās been abandoned for years or maybe even decades. It makes the soft glint of hope I felt slowly turn to sadness at the realization that this may or may not work. That the creatures of this world may have driven out any form of magic that didnāt serve a purpose to their own personal cause. It makes me wonder if the laws work the same here and if this trip was for nothing at all.
āCome.ā NaĆ«l gestures for us to push on and I gesture for my horse to do just that. She moves forward until weāre close enough to dismount and, when I do, I stand still as I look up at the house. I concentrate hard, trying to feel any semblance of energy whether it be living or dead.
But I feelā¦ nothing.
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|ć A Dream of Fire: Chapter 11 ā Deeper the Wounded, Deeper the Roots: Part 2 ć|
|I inhale sharply. Where there was once the sensation of drowning, I now find myself in no pain whatsoever. But, the setting I |do| find myself in, is more than unsettling. Another white room. As I look ahead, I seeā¦. nothing. Again. Fuck. Iām praying silently to every one of my ancestors that I havenāt trapped myself in yet another endless purgatory that I canāt find myself out of. But this place feels different. In the plane between my realm and that of Talia and the dangers that lurk with her, I found myself devoid ofā¦. anything. Time. Hope. Possibilities. But, as I look down at myself, Iām dressed in a lace white dress that hugs every curve that my children gave me. As I look down at my hands, I see the same white lace along the brown skin of my hands all the way up to my elbows. My lace-gloved hands run smoothly down the front of the dress where roped and beaded accents give shape. This isnāt purgatory. This is more likeā¦. a crossroad. A path between realms rather than a black hole in the middle of our infinite universe.Ā
Iām barefoot. 10 painted white toes peek from the thin fabric of my lace dress and as I breathe in, I feel the hopelessness I felt before is slowly diminishing. My eyes scan the room for any sign of NaĆ«l but, as promised, he isnāt here. Iām alone. I observe two large white doors behind me, the room and its subtle details slowly beginning to manifest. The white doors are surrounded by white pillars on either side, making the space larger and more beautiful. Itās almost something out of a Roman temple to the goddess Athena. On the ceiling, murals of African rituals worshiping their deities and offering their sacrifices, both living, dead and inanimate, are beautifully drawn. Waist beads and dashiki skirts accent the beautiful dark brown skin dancing around roaring fires. Artistry at its finest.Ā
Suddenly, Iām pulled from my silent appreciation by the sound of the large white doors opening. Soft, ethereal music plays from behind them as six men emerge carrying what looks like an ornate, open top palanquin. It, too, is white but itās adorned by beautiful purple and white flowers. The men are silent as they approach me. Iām cautious, but I can hear NaĆ«lās voice in my head.
āDonāt be afraid. You wonāt know what to do until you are in the realm. Follow your instincts. They have led you this far. Trust them. Youāre stronger than you think.ā
Suddenly, Iām reminded of the possibility that, beyond this pointā¦. if Iām strong, I might see Rafael. A first glimpse of home. The thought makes my heart thud hard in my chest, but my mind stays focused. The men place the palanquin down and I watch as the two in the front move to approach me. One moves to grab a white bowl from atop the bed of flowers while the other moves behind me to move my hair away from my shoulders. The ethereal music calms me as the man with the bowl slowly approaches me. I get the feeling that they know why Iām here, but none of them make eye contact. Either their eyes are forward or they are looking down at the ground. I wonder how many have passed through here this way.Ā
The man with the bowl looks up at me, finally, and with the bowl in his grasp, he bows slowly to me. It takes me back for a moment. Because this isnāt Taliaās realm. Is this normal? Or is he bowing... to me? After a moment, he picks up what looks like a paintbrush from the bowl and I can see now that there is white paint filling it. I close my eyes as he draws one cool, smooth line just below my nose all the way to either earlobe. It takes some time, but he fills in the space below, painting my caramel brown skin white until he reaches the collared necklace cuffed around my throat.Ā
When heās done, the men in front of me take a knee next to where the palanquin lays and the two men next to me move to join them. I follow my instincts and carefully pad closer to where they rest.Ā
āDonāt be afraid, chea. Follow ya instincts.ā
Itās NaĆ«lās words I hear, but in Raās voice. He sounds so close. It gives me the strength I need to carefully step onto the bed of flowers and lay down until my body perfectly fills the space. The scent of lavender and fresh rain surrounds me and I close my eyes to allow the calming sensation to wash over me and let them lead me where I need to go.
This isnāt magic Iām familiar with. Even if NaĆ«lās magic was born from something similar to mine, Iām out of my element. What if Iām taken somewhere else completely? Somewhere not even NaĆ«l can help me escape. I do my best to steady my nerves. Keep my focus on where I am now.Ā
It isnāt but a minute later that I hear the sound of crackling wood and feel the subtle heat of a fire. I want to look up and see where theyāre taking me, but I canāt. I feel frozen. It triggers memories ofā¦. that night. That Aege. I can feel the voice inside my head panicking. Begging to be released. To run. I try to struggle against my invisible bonds, but I involuntarily stay in place as the heat that fills the atmosphere around me. I manage to arch upward and look up toward the direction theyāre taking me and I see blue flames waiting. Burning. Beckoning me. I want to scream loudly, hoping that if my physical form is still in NaĆ«lās care, he may be able to hear me. To save me. Once again. But Iām too late. The men slowly lower the palanquin down into the hot, burning fire and I feel my skin set ablaze. I scream. I beg. I try to kick myself free, but Iām fully restrained. The once beautiful flowers that surround me wilt and burn as my skin slowly cracks and disintegrates. Iāmā¦. lost. My mindā¦. Cracks. I canātā¦. take any more.Ā
āDonāt ya dare give up.ā I hear a familiar voice ring through my head. It makes the pain, the fear and the agony away. āYa strongāa than ya think, baby.ā Again, NaĆ«lās words, but the voiceā¦. Lex. It saddens me to think that I barely remember the last thing he said to me. Hearing his voice, now, is a reminder that I have |so| much left to fight for. To push for. That dull fire in my chest that I havenāt been able to access since thatā¦. night. I donāt know how, but I can almost feel the flames of my magic wrapping around my soul like an impenetrable sheath of protection. The once dead fire in my chest blooms. My body, engulfed in the hot, blue flames, slowly starts to mend. Scarred and burned skin slowly heals, pulling itself all back together as my body slowly rises from my laid down position. The pain dulls down to nothing as my body levitates. I close my eyes, the slow tingle of my power spreading through my veins making me clench my fists.
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