《The Guardian (The Legend of Little Red Riding Hood & Her Wolf)》Chapter 50, Normal
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My mind questions whether this is a good idea or not even while my eyes drift shut per Jenny's instructions. There's a part of me that hopes this will be what I need to get my Gift under control.
Jenny sighs, a dainty thing that makes me smile.
"Good, dear. What do you hear?"
"I hear a squirrel chattering, warning other animals of us in these hedges. I hear the baker yelling for more flour and the clip-clop of horses going down the cobblestone roads."
"What do you feel?"
I touch the surrounding things, running into Ran's muzzle and smiling when she grabs my fingers with her flat teeth. Something in me wonders if her stomach is going to need grass since she's a horse, or if it's only her appearance that has changed into a horse and she's still internally a wolf.
"I feel the flat teeth of a herb-loving animal." Those teeth bite down a little too hard and I yelp, cracking open an eye to glare at the bugger. I close it and stretch out my hands and feeling really weird about it, but... I will entertain this if it'll help me get this thing under control. "There is the rough wood of the bench, and the soft muzzle of Ran."
"What do you smell?"
"Rotten breath, lavender, sweet wild roses, fresh air that seems to bring both rain and sunshine."
"Now, I want you to stretch for the emotions around you, just as you stretched with your senses. One does not understand all these scents when they are born... and neither do I expect nor should you expect of yourself to perfect this in a day or even a month. A Gift is simply an extra sense you will become accustomed to with time. Practice is your most valuable friend in this."
I do as she said, tentatively trying to reach out for emotions around me.
For minutes, I sit there with my eyes closed, nothing happening.
“It’s not—“ Something inside me explodes in a thunderous rage. I don't think it was actual thunder... but then again, right now, I couldn't care less. I curl over my middle when a black hole opens in my mind, almost falling from the bench while I fall into a hole in my soul.
Rider, Ran says gently as I sink into the depths of a darkness so deep I've never seen its like.
Sensations buzz past in colors and emotions too quick for me to make out. I fall down a slippery slope, unable to stop myself from going ever deeper. Until... I stop so suddenly it makes my head spin.
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All around are clouds of color leading to tightly woven golden strands of individual emotions branching from the center. Each strand, the size of thread, glows with varying intensity, some almost as dark as the surrounding blackness, and others with a brightness to rival the sun.
Each cloud has its own fleeting feelings: affection for an acquaintance; honest compassion from a hurting soul to another; pride that refuses to admit defeat; a sharp, stabbing grief so deep it's a physical pain. I know not where I begin and where everyone else ends.
What would happen should I touch one of the golden threads? One stands out from the others... shimmering a gold so bright it would burn my retinas in the physical plane.
I touch it, hearing a gentle sigh as I focus on this one being.
Rider, distinct relief embalms the voice, and it sounds so familiar, but there are so many emotions competing for my mind it's hard to remember who it is. Hold onto me, don't let me go.
I grab hold of the voice, following the vibrating thread it belongs to. The other emotions ease, and I follow one emotion of fear and hope and loyalty and profound affection all rolled into one.
But who am I?
Aria. You are Aria, rider. My sister. Guardian of Risia. You have the soul of the wolf and the heart of a dragon. Stay with me. If you become lost, so do I, for I cannot live without you.
Her deep love eclipses all others, and I pull myself from the darkness into her waiting devotion with a strangled yell, collapsing into warm fur, and know nothing more.
~~~
When I come to, I’m in my bed and Jenny is once again bathing my forehead with a cool, lavender scented rag.
“It didn’t work,” I croak out, trying to go for humor but failing miserably.
The feeling of so many... it left a plaque behind inside, as if I'd rolled in mud and can't wash the gooey, icky feeling away from my soul.
It takes a few deep breaths and the clearing of my mind before it eventually recedes a little, and I feel less... dirty. My own emotions feel a little off, but not so bad as when I searched for my family.
Jenny's brows furrow, and her eyes fill with pain. “Forgive me, Aria.”
I shake my head, sitting up and drinking from the water she offers. “No, don’t take the blame. It’s me who can’t control my Gift.” I spit the word like a curse.
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She shakes her head, blinking back tears. “Dear, your Gift is stronger than anything I’ve ever seen. There is someone who can help—”
I shake my head emphatically and rub my temples when it makes my head spin. “No. We can’t afford to trust the wrong person right now." I rub my temples again, knowing I've already trusted someone wrong somewhere and unsure what to do about it. I can't bring anyone else in. "I’m surviving, and will continue to do so until my family is safe. We’ll see about getting this... fixed when it's over.”
She nods, passing me a plateful of food that would feed three men. My stomach churns uncomfortably, but... I know it'll make her feel better if I eat. So I take a bite and pretend to smile.
My mind roams what I have learned, what I still need to know. “How can I do this? How is this even possible?”
“Matter is made of vibrations, according to Irkshall Hamon of the Ministries of Industrial Giftings. Using a Frequency Ward, he discovered how certain individuals may interpret these vibrations. These interpreters are called Sensors. There are Earth Sensors who may hear or feel the vibrations of Beulah before she quakes, or before an avalanche begins. Same with Weather, Water, and Air Sensors. Empaths are also technically Sensors, but are classified as Gifted for their rarity and how even the most base Empath ability is able to influence to some extent those around them.”
She pauses, glancing over at me. I lean forward, highly interested. These are things not known by the common people. I never knew there was such a thing as Sensors.
“We come then to Gifted. These individuals are able to intercept and influence the frequencies within a certain range. Healers, a rare and powerful sect of Gifted, may intercept physical frequencies, and with the proper training, influence and heal physical and sometimes psychological ailments. Mindempaths, such as yourself... you are a rarity, my dear. I only know of few other Empaths, and no other genuine Mindempaths. But then, many keep these things under tight lips. More common Gifts are those of Weather and Elements. As are a special sect of Healers who can influence their own frequencies. They can heal themselves, and some change patterns all together, allowing them to shapeshift.”
My eyes are wide and I realize my mouth is hanging open when my tongue goes dry. I swish saliva in my mouth and swallow, working through all the information dumped on me. "I wish I wasn't such a special Gifted," I mumble, my lips pulling into a frown. It's times like this I wish I could just be a normal girl. "How do you know all this?" I ask.
Her smile grows wan. "There was a time I wished to be any Gifted. A Sensor, even. I scoured the books, sought professing Gifted, and learned anything about Giftings available to the nobles. But, alas, I only served to make myself further infatuated with things which came to matter little. My Gift suites me well, and I am thankful for it."
"That makes one of us," I say under my breath. She pats my head like a dog, smoothing the hair from my forehead.
"Don't you worry, dear. You will someday learn your Gift was meant for you. It merely takes time."
I genuinely wonder if she's right, or if I will forever lament hearing such a term as Gifted. I have a feeling it will be the later.
And now? I must deal with the man who hates me for standing up to his bullying behavior. Wolfsbane is another word I wished I never had heard. I truly wish I were a normal girl.
What is normal, rider? Ran asks, her voice genuine.
I take a moment... just to think. I... I don't know.
Then it seems to me, we should put one step in front of the other and be grateful for those things we do have. For normal is not something to chase. It'd be better to chase the Pink-Horned Bunny.
I stifle a smile at the thought of the creature thought to be fairy tale... but then again, I've seen proof of such things we think do not exist that exist quite readily. Perhaps instead of wishing for things that will not be, I need to be thankful for what I have and the things and creatures placed in my path to help me along the way. If only I didn't have my blasted Gift, this would be so much easier.
Without that Gift, you would not have me, Ran whispers into my mind, her voice thoughtful and slightly smug.
That makes me really pause and think... and I realize perhaps I don't entirely loathe the Gift. Perhaps there is good in this Curse after all.
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