After a gentle knock, Trish’s father opened the door to her dark bedroom and peered inside. He took a few careful steps, then called, “Trish, honey. You awake in there?”
In a low and groggy voice, she answered from her bed, “Yeah, Dad.”
“Are you feeling any better?”
Before answering, she discreetly looked her father up and down. He was wearing his work shirt and had his car keys in his clenched hand. “A little.”
“I want you to take it easy and rest again today, okay? I’ll call the doctor if you’re not feeling better by tonight. I know you’d prefer some company, but I gotta get to work. Boss won’t let me have another day off unless it’s an emergency.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
Trish’s father walked to the side of her bed. After moving her wild locks away from her face, he gave her a kiss atop her forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Dad.”
“Remember, there’s noodle soup for lunch in the fridge. And if you get your appetite back, I left you some pad thai and spring rolls. Everything is in the plastic bag on the middle shelf. I’ll call to check on you later in the morning.” After Trish nodded, he continued, “And I’ll call the school on my way to work and let them know you’ll be out another day.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Have a good day at work.”
He slowly closed her bedroom door and gathered what he needed for the day. Lying in bed with wide eyes, Trish listened to every one of her father’s clumsy movements echo through the dark house until he locked the front door. Anxiously, she awaited the rumbling sound of his truck to fade. Once in silence, she sprung to her feet and shuffled to the large window in the living room that faced the street, then poked her fingers through the blinds. Relieved she was finally alone, Trish ran back into her room and pulled out a stash of notebooks and binders from underneath her bed.
Trish felt guilty for feigning illness, but what she had experienced since Tuesday night warranted some time alone. Her visions had become more frequent and excruciatingly painful at times. And the information she gathered was extensive, to say the least, having filled three new notebooks on Wednesday alone.
Sitting atop her bed, Trish thumbed over the last half of one of the notebooks containing rushed, heavy-handed writing. Since her father was home during most of her episodes, she tried her best to keep the notes stealthy in case he came to check on her. As she turned another page, her phone began to vibrate. Just as she suspected, it was a message from Rayshell using Jakobe’s phone. In a brief reply, she assured her worried friend that she was feeling better but wouldn’t return to school until Friday.
Trish resumed flipping through the notebook and refreshed herself on the details inscribed. On the last page of the notebook, she found a couple of lines she didn’t recall writing. Squinting in disbelief, she brought the page closer to her curious eyes.
Seal your domain.
They’re looking for you because of me, and you cannot be found.
A feeling of dread washed over Trish. She slowly set the notebook atop her bed and zoned out while she repeated the cryptic message to herself. In doing so, she mentally retraced her steps earlier in the week, from her journey to and from school to the errands she ran with her dad. In retrospect, there were a few odd-looking people whose strange energy caught her attention momentarily, but she never felt it was anything to be concerned about. Upon pondering the message again, Trish considered that perhaps it was her stalkers’ goal not to be seen. Everyone was a suspect, whether a simple passerby or someone who blended inconspicuously into the background.
“Seal-off my domain? How?” she asked herself.
Her restless mind raced past random faces still imprinted in her memory from earlier in the week until suddenly the message made sense. Feverishly, Trish flipped back through the notebook to a section charted with various symbols. She rummaged through her backpack for a pack of colored tabs and marked a few areas, then continued through the rest of her handwritten works.
She reviewed the tagged sections within the array of binders and notebooks strewn atop her bed. Some of her earlier notes mentioned how Lowenna sealed her domain, as was the case for other high-profile individuals like Kumiko, Benson, Aalrija, and Demelza. They employed the use of particular charms, preventing people from materializing into a room through a supernatural method of travel known as Paralleling. There were also charms for containing energy, ensuring privacy, and for things she didn’t yet understand. She reached for a notebook full of symbols accompanied by nearly illegible details scribbled beside them. As she slowly turned each page, the handwritten words ‘close-off’ caught her eye.
While skimming the bulleted points, she muttered some of them aloud. “... used to contain the dweller’s energy inside a given space … cloaks most forms of energy and Shahiri workings … will not cloak a dweller’s Parallel ….”
Trish marked the symbol along with a few others with a tab, then took the notebook with her into the kitchen. After pulling the stepladder out from beside of the spice cabinet, she selected a knife from the wooden block and set up a working space in front of the living room door.
“Alright. Here goes nothing,” she said, then put the knife tip to the door casing and carefully inscribed the tagged symbols in the top corner.
Noon came and went in the blink of an eye. Not long after Trish finished carving the symbols as inconspicuous as she could manage, her father called to check on her. His routine questions reminded her she had not yet eaten anything. After their brief call, she heated the soup she fibbed having already eaten. She slurped at the aromatic broth and admired her handiwork from a distance. The symbols were barely visible, and with any luck, her father would never notice them. In the event he discovered them, she had a feasible explanation prepared. With a smile, she forked a wad of rice noodles into her mouth, then started down the hallway back to her room.
Without warning, Trish’s head began to throb. The severe, undulating pain caused her to fall to her knees. Groaning, she put her hands over her ears as grating dissonance culminated.
“Okay, Nav, now it’s your turn,” the familiar voice of Lowenna spoke through the whirlwind of sharp sounds within her mind.
Clenching her teeth, Trish opened her dizzy eyes. Dark crimson pattered atop the carpet.
“You’re not even listening to me, are you?”
At the close of Lowenna’s inquisition, the discord trapped within Trish’s head had settled. Slowly, the familiar elements surrounding her dissolved into the parched scape of a struggling garden.
Navaryn had a shimmering jumping spider on her arm and wore a subtle smile. Lowenna released a defeated breath which made Navaryn turn her way.
“What’d I do?”
Lowenna flicked her damp blonde hair away from her neck and walked to a spot under the melon trellis for some shade. The hot afternoon reminded her she still had her training armor equipped. She proceeded to unfasten the plethora of buckles and ties while Navaryn decided on a safe leaf to place her new friend.
“What’s the last thing you remember me saying?”
Navaryn put her finger to her chin. “Um ….”
Lowenna rolled her brilliant blue eyes after a string of seconds passed. “Wanna pay attention this time?”
Navaryn folded her bare arms. “I don’t understand why I need to know this in the first place. I mean, the garden is doing fine.”
Lowenna gestured to a few failing vines behind her.
“Whatever.”
“And there’s more than just that. Some of your tomatoes look like you lit them on fire, your cucumbers are falling from the vine before they have a chance to mature, and the—”
“Alright, I get it,” Navaryn interrupted, then poked at one of the crunchy leaves that dangled above her head.
“All I’m saying is your garden can use a helping hand from time to time. We train so much, and there are only so many hours in the day to give it the attention it needs. Material Displacement provides that help.”
Navaryn squinted her eyes and leaned toward Lowenna. “This isn’t a trick, is it?”
“A trick? What are you talking about?”
With pursed lips, she slowly leaned away. “After the whole episode with Benson trying to force me to perform Mass Displacement, I’ve noticed you and Kumiko have been testing me in your own ways.”
“You’re just paranoid.”
“Am I?”
“What I am trying to show you isn’t even the same thing.”
“But it’s a component of it. Material Displacement is the root of Mass Displacement.”
Lowenna smiled, then sarcastically replied, “So you do pay attention after all.”
“Contrary to popular belief, yes. Yes, I do. And if you’re trying to get me to hone my Material Displacement skills so that I can achieve Mass Displacement, don’t waste your time. That’s something that I will never let happen. Not again.”
“Nav,” Lowenna said defeatedly, “I’ve been trying to teach you this technique long before that crazy shit you conjured on the island during crossover.” She shook her head, then tossed the last piece of her armor harder than intended. “The technique is rudimentary at best, but it’s important. And there are no hidden motives here. If you want to be as adamant as you are against learning any Shahiri techniques, fine. I’ll stop trying to show you.”
A warm breeze sailed between the pair. Lowenna listened to the jostling crunchy leaves scrape against each other amidst Navaryn’s tense exhalations until she finally spoke.
“Maybe Aalrija rubbed off on me more than I realized,” Navaryn said with her eyes downcast. “Just like Demelza has rubbed off on you.”
Lowenna nodded. “Eerie to realize it, huh?”
After some more thought, Navaryn groaned and reluctantly called, “If I try the stupid technique, will you stop badgering me?”
“Perhaps.”
“That better mean you will.”
Lowenna led Navaryn to one of her grow boxes, recently packed with rows of pea shoots. She had a tough time concealing her disappointed expression upon observing their condition. Aside from not being properly watered, Lowenna suspected that Navaryn had neglected to amend the soil to start. She bent down, touched a few limp and struggling tendrils, and sighed.
“This isn’t the best time to start them, I know.”
“Well, if you know that, it’s best to give them the attention they need, or your work will have been for nothing.”
Navaryn agreed with a simple, silent nod.
“This will be a harder example since we’re not simply boosting a healthy plant. Ready to take it from the top?”
Feigning the best grin she could manage, Navaryn gave a thumbs-up, then pulled her long, dark brown hair into a bun.
“Unlike simply diverting the healthy energy within a plant to its less active channels, here we’ll have to displace the energy thriving under the soil below the roots and direct it upwards. Follow me?”
“Yeah,” Navaryn replied, then knelt beside Lowenna in front of the wooden grow box.
“I’ll take this corner row, and you take the other. Now, place your hands on each side of the row, like me.” She watched Navaryn mimic her hands’ position, then added, “The only thing you have to do here is make sure your palms and fingertips touch the ground. That’s all. You can place your hands however you want.”
A swell of embarrassment quickly flushed Navaryn’s cheeks.
“Just get comfortable. That’s probably the most important starting point.”
Navaryn relaxed her shoulders and spread her fingers apart atop the hot dirt. Once she closed her eyes, Lowenna smiled triumphantly.
“I want you to feel for the energy below your fingers. Open every one of your senses and search deeply.”
With as advanced as Lowenna was, she didn’t have to try very hard to lock onto the writhing energy beneath her fingertips. After a matter of moments, sparking sensations ascended and culminated alongside her peripheral veins.
“Search for one of Celestine’s many pulses,” she added, hoping it would help Navaryn find focus so she could discover and harness her inner sight.
Attentive and patient, Lowenna waited for any indicators that Navaryn had locked onto something, but she soon broke from her concentration.
“What is it?”
“I can’t do this shit.”
“Yes, you can. You just have to be patient and follow your instincts.”
Navaryn muttered, “I can follow my instincts just fine.”
“I’ll explain it again. Then we’ll take it from the top, okay?”
Lowenna ceased to be distracted by Navaryn’s seemingly uninterested expression. She simply nodded, then took a moment to gather the concentration she needed. It took an entirely different kind of focus to hold onto the energy for as long as she did, but she grew accustomed to it whenever she was training someone. In time, Lowenna considered it a component of her conditioning.
“Like I’ve said before, you have to know how much to take and how much to bestow so you don’t disrupt the balance.”
“What happens when you do?”
Lowenna tilted her head and answered sarcastically, “You know what happens.”
“I told you, I don’t remember that night. Now stop trying to insinuate that I do.”
“Quit being so sensitive. I wasn’t even talking about that. Don’t you remember the last time Demelza used this technique in your garden?”
Navaryn flicked at chunks of dry dirt and smiled. “Oh, yeah. When she and Aalija were at it again. A bunch of things got messed up for the whole growing season.”
“Geez,” Lowenna griped as she shook her head. “Like I said, you have to be careful with your pull. For instance, this delicate row of peas can’t handle much. If you try to bestow too much energy, you will harm it. Likewise, pulling from a source that isn’t bountiful enough for your objective will harm what’s around it. Understand?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Now put your hands on top of mine. I’m going to see if I can channel the energy to you, then have you release it.”
Navaryn repositioned herself alongside Lowenna and placed her dusty hands on hers.
“Now, I’m going to pass it through to you slowly. But don’t let it go right away. I want you to hold onto the energy first. Ready?” After Navaryn’s confirmation, Lowenna continued. “You’re going to feel a hot and tingly sensation, and it may be difficult to move your hands.”
Lowenna watched Navaryn’s face cycle through a multitude of elated and ponderous expressions until it appeared she had settled into a state of concentration. With her pull tethered to a sweet spot deep within the soil, Lowenna refilled her reserves just in case Navaryn was to have a mishap with her channeling.
“Now that it’s yours to command, I want you to slowly and carefully release it to the plants in this first row.”
Navaryn’s eyes skimmed over the sad-looking specimens in the three-meter row and nodded. Slowly, she stretched her tense fingers and curled them under Lowenna’s. After a few moments, the first few plants ahead began to jostle as if caught in a tender breeze. The limp and deflated leaves erected one after another, then flooded with deep green.
Lowenna smiled right along with Navaryn and admired the gyrating tendril protractions. “Great work! Now go ahead and send some of the energy down the rest of the row.”
Navaryn followed Lowenna’s direction with steady aim and careful intention until halfway down the row.
“Nav, take it down a notch. You’re giving them too much,” directed Lowenna when she noticed the energy she bestowed became more than was needed for a gentle revitalization.
With an eerily thirsty smile, Navaryn disregarded her friend’s warning and cemented her focus. Greedily, she claimed Lowenna’s reserve energy for her own. Curling, writhing, and sprouting with purple and white flowers, the pea shoots continued to develop.
Struck with disbelief, Lowenna called out, “What the fuck, Navaryn? Take it easy.”
When she turned to face Navaryn, her heart sank. The white flicker she grew to fear was dancing inside of her eyes. As she held her breath, she felt the strong pull of energy Navaryn had manifested. The nerves along her arms and fingers panged. Although she tried to inhibit the draw, Navaryn’s might prevailed.
Clenching her teeth, Lowenna looked back at the raised bed and watched the augmentations carry over into the remaining rows. Dense clusters of flower buds overwrought the flailing shoots and exploded into bulging pods. The spectacle continued until each plant reached the same excessive metamorphosis, then vitality departed just as fast as it came. The overabundance of swollen pods dried and shriveled, and the entire box withered to a crisp.
Lowenna ripped her hands away from Navaryn and shoved her back. “What is your problem?!”
After her backward crash landing, Navaryn disconnected from her trance. Rubbing the back of her head, she barked, “What was that for?”
“What was that for? What was that for?! Take a look for yourself, you lunatic,” Lowenna roared and pointed to the bed of desiccated remains.
Navaryn stared blankly at them. “I did this?” After Lowenna helped her to her feet, she confessed, “I’m really losing it, aren’t I?”
The same grating dissonance that heralded Trish’s vision had overpowered Lowenna’s response. Color by color, the garden scene faded before her eyes, and her house’s familiar elements slowly reappeared. She winced until the noise had finally departed. Blood bespattered her forearm and hands, and the broth from her noodle soup had absorbed into the carpet. She wiped the crusty blood from her nostrils and chin, then proceeded to clean up her mess.
Three passes over the maroon carpet, and she could no longer tell what had happened. Though the event left her fatigued, she knew she wouldn’t be content simply lying in bed or thumbing through her social feeds. With a freshly cleaned and moisturized face, she poured herself a frosty glass of water with a squeeze of lemon, then headed outside for some air.
Smoky clouds blotted the afternoon sky. Trish placed her cup atop the glass patio table and sat on one of the weathered fabric chairs. Leaning back, she took a moment to close her eyes and embrace the mild breeze. Her face was hot, and the brisk air was welcome, but the silence that followed was a pest that kept her mind from relaxing.
Her leg began to bounce as the back of her mind tremored with the vision she had just experienced. Her anxiety had bloomed, and she struggled to get everything out of her head before her thoughts waged war within her mind. She sprung forward, took a sip of her water, and then chose to abandon her outdoor retreat. Before walking back inside, she stopped at the row of mint that grew by the door and harvested a few tender leaves to use in her water. Then she froze as an overwhelmingly hot sensation cascaded down her arms, reminding her of a fantastical concept.
The art of Material Displacement was among many other mystical techniques clearly delineated within her visions. Trish knelt before the edge of the brick border and sat her glass beside her. As she placed her hands to the dirt, she couldn’t help but feel that such a feat was impossible, even though there were several instances when she had disproved such doubt. After a deep breath, she recounted the instructions from her vision and grounded her concentration.
A prickly sensation reached Trish’s fingertips while a clamor of blackbirds passed overhead. Holding her breath through a lull of stillness and a swell of determination, she opened her crystal blue eyes. Looking at the columns of fragrant mint, she did her best to remain calm and centered while her hands and arms started to tingle. Spreading her tense fingers, she willed the mild wave of energy forward, causing the anterior columns to twitch and wriggle. One after the other, they extended slightly. Netted veins on the mature leaves swelled and hardened, and the sprigs formed new leaflets. The augmentations continued until Trish released the modest amount of energy she had gathered.
The tingling sensation dissipated, and Trish dropped to her butt in disbelief. She snagged her water and stared in awe at the altered plant before her. Carefully, she plucked one of the newly formed leaflets and scrutinized it with triumphant but very tired eyes. It appeared utterly ordinary, and no one else would be the wiser. Though she felt the urge to boast about the phenomenon, she resolved to protect the secret knowledge.