“Shamanism, Wicca, Voodoo, Spirit Walking…” A broad shoulder man with deep oak colored skin spoke as if presenting a TedX talk. “All of them have roots in a common core that was rediscovered through the worship of naturally occurring ley-lines. We all know what ley-lines are right?”
He asked, hopefully rhetorically, as the prospector fifth in the sequence didn’t verbally answer despite the long pause.
“Right, those interconnecting lines of mana/chi/essence/radiation; whatever you prefer calling it. Our ancestors first harnessed those life-springs of energy to build entire civilizations that are all now lost to us. But not all the information was lost with them. There will always be echoes in the energy flow that we can use and learn from, but sensing such a thing isn’t very easy.”
The tall student removed the small microphone from where it’d clung to his cheek and then stretched his neck carefully before he began to speak again.
The prospector too stepped back as the odd preparatory motion from the student set off countless alarm bells in his mind.
“Although difficult in this form, it’s not in others. The clan I come from practices a unique form of communion with nature, one of our practices comes from our belief that in death, a great guardian eagle will soar overhead, catching our drifting souls and ushering us to our next life. Once in a generation a child is born etched with the mark of that eagle,”
Again, he stopped as he loosened the knot securing his rough leather pants. The Prospector hid his eyes in a panic but all that did was make him miss the best part.
“I am that child.” As he spoke a gush of energy reverberated the walls of the stone room as the mana equivalent to a half-dozen sedans arced and peeled through the room as a massive amount of energy was expended to reform his body into the more compact shape he usually stayed in.
“And yeah,” The Eagle spoke plainly through his now jagged golden beak, “Measuring and detecting Mana-echoes within ley-lines is far simpler with a more mana-attuned body. Even when I’m human it’s still far more easy, we theorize it’s because both my human body and this body are made from energy. It’s a highly interesting field of study, perhaps ancient humans had a similar technique of turning their bodies into energy, its possibly they could have even used it to stay alive perpetually, but I’m definitely not saying I’m planning on messing with any taboo’s or…”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The Prospector was still stuck glancing between the pile of clothes and the bird standing on the conveniently placed perch. He’d thought it was a coatrack. “Druidism…”
“Ah, so you know of the Celtic woodland mystiques,” The eagle nodded, recognizing the apt— but not entirely accurate— word, the man had associate with his transformation. “Druids though, merely cloak their skin under the body of their animal avatars, my clan holds the true art. But a body, born capable of exhibiting our technique, is extremely rare; same for Druid’s as you’d likely know.”
“But doesn’t that mean—” The prospector finally realized as he connected the points the Eagle had mentioned about his clan’s ritualistic beliefs when still wearing a human face. “Is it alright for you to not be with your people? Or would you be seeking to conduct your research near your home?”
“I can fly fast. And they call a few hours before any funeral ceremonies begins.” The Eagle blandly answered with a wing pointing towards the pile of clothing that held his phone. “But yes, it’s no concern. I will conduct my research wherever the ley lines take it, my duties to my people will not hinder it.”
“Incredible,” The Prospector nodded while rubbing his chin considerately. “How fast approxi—”
The Eagle had given this same, almost word for word, explanation to five people now, and just as the guy predicted, not one of them asked about the research and instead asked superficial questions about his abilities. Not one of them had yet seen the value of the research he cared about and instead they’d seen him as the subject for it.
The Eagle couldn’t smirk in this form, but he tried anyways. Answering the bland questions one after another with a dull tone, The Eagle again considered the offer he’d made before this glorified freakshow had started.
If it was him, he’d probably actually get someone to agree to his outrageous deal despite the uphill battle he’d set for himself. So maybe he really could provide the resources necessary like he’d claimed. Through legitimate means though, not through his typical—
Counting down the minutes until this round ended The Eagle finally sighed a breath of relief when the final question about how bird seed tasted while in that form was silenced by the spell pumped through the room as the seventh bell rung.
Finally, it was almost over, and he could get back to work.