Sean Brynor

Magic was difficult. Despite my best efforts, I had made almost no improvement, and my mother rarely accepted my requests to practice. I had managed to convince her a few times, but each was met with failure. I was unable to move my Soul, only able to shake or vibrate it a little, and without being able to practice on my own, I was making no progress. I couldn’t help but feel that I was rushing myself. I was barely over a year old, and was pushing myself so much, but I couldn’t bear the thought of going back to before I discovered magic. I had to keep pushing. I had to learn this. It was the only thing I could occupy my curious mind with right now.

Realizing that what I was doing clearly wasn’t working, I took a step back in my next session with Mother. Trying to move my Soul would likely be unsuccessful again, and I didn’t want to waste what little time I had with her. It would probably be a while before I could convince her to practice with me again. So, instead, I decided to focus on how she was activating my Soul. If I could figure out what she was doing and somehow replicate it, then I could practice my magic whenever I wanted. As she grabbed my hands I focused on the tingling feeling, how it moved through my body and what changes it made as it traveled.

At first, It felt like electricity coursing through my body, moving quickly and everywhere at once. As she grabbed my hands, some form of energy would begin to flow through me. My mother was like a battery, charging my Soul so that I could use magic. This revelation made me scared. If my mother was a battery, was there any way to perform magic without her? That didn’t make sense to me, given that she didn’t need a battery herself. I realized I was jumping to conclusions too fast. I had to study the energy more, figure out exactly what its source was before trying, or thinking, anything else.

I focused on Mother’s hands and how they were moving. They laid perfectly still as they gripped onto mine, but something about this felt wrong. I knew that they were moving at the start, that she was doing some kind of motion earlier, but now she had stopped. I had to know what it was. I pulled my hands away from her, the tingling sensation leaving as I did. I put all my effort into feeling what exactly was happening as it left me. The sensation didn’t leave the same way it came in at my hands, but quickly exited all around my body and into the air.

“Oh, do you want to stop Sean? Are you tired?”

I shook my head at my mother’s question and reached my hands out again. She shrugged and grabbed hold of them. She began making the initial motions she always did when we started one of these sessions. It was a quick back and forth movement that was almost unnoticeable, barely able to be felt. As she did, I felt a pulling sensation on the tips of my fingers. It wasn’t painful, as I almost missed the feeling, but as I focused on it, the pulling sensation became more intense. Something was blocking my Soul, and whatever mother was doing, she was removing that block, allowing whatever energy that brought on the tingling sensation into my Soul. As the block was removed, I felt the rush of energy flow into me, and the tingling sensation returned. My mother then stopped her hand motions, and I was left to tie all this new information together.

It’s clear to me that the removal of whatever was blocking the energy flow was key, as without it’s removal, there was no point in even practicing magic, but I also learned something else. I no longer thought that the energy came from Mother. Given how it exited my body, and how quickly it rushed into me when the block was removed, I came to the realization that the energy was all around me, in the air. It was a natural constant, an existence outside of mine or my mother’s control. Something that powered my magic, or my Soul so that I could do magic. As interesting as this was, I decided not to focus on it too much. I had a goal in mind already. First I actually had to learn how to perform magic before I could begin studying its many mysteries. So I spent the rest of my session pondering the question; how do I remove the block myself?

As I tried to figure it out, my mother let go of my hands, deciding that it was the end of our training session. She smiled and picked me up, bringing me to my room and putting me down for bed, even though I had no intentions of sleeping. I was a bit saddened when Mother ended our sessions. I enjoyed our time together, even if it was filled with silence. It was just nice to spend time with someone that kind and caring. A woman who would sit with her child for hours on end simply because she enjoyed doing it. It made something in me ache, and yet, I yearned for each and every moment I spent with her, but if I kept relying on her for magic, then I would never be able to explore all of its secrets.

She left the room and I went straight to work. I sat upright and held my hands together in front of me. The blocks I had to remove weren’t just going to wait for me, I had to take the initiative. It was clear now that my initial assessment of magic being like electricity was completely wrong. The way it flowed through me was more like a river than an electric current. The blocks that my mother removed were like dams, creating a wall that separated my Soul from the energy that existed outside my body, refusing to let it flow freely. I had spent a lot of time thinking about how to remove these dams, when in reality it should have been simple. All I had to do was repeat the process Mother had done when she removed them for me earlier.

I repeated the motions she had made on my one hand, and I began to feel something. It was a strong pulling sensation on the palm of my hand, almost like someone was pinching me, then pulled on it slightly. I pulled on the sensation harder until, finally, it tore open. The rush of energy hit me like a truck. It was stronger than anything I had felt when practicing magic with Mother. It felt strong. I felt strong. As I regained my senses after the flood of magic entered me, I realized I could still feel the tear on my hand. It was slowly trying to close, like skin would after getting a small cut. That gave me a clearer idea of what the dam was. It was like a small layer of skin that covered my whole body. I could feel it now, covering me like a blanket, blocking the energy that so desperately wanted to come into my Soul.

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As my curiosity began to take me over, I started pulling on the edges of the tear, grabbing and pulling at until more began to come off. As I tore away more and more of this dam, I could feel more and more of the energy flow into me. The tingling sensation that I first felt when training with mother was all but gone now, replaced with the feeling of energy flowing through me. The energy that was flowing in me was different, however. Some of it was thicker, flowing slower and more like oil, while some of it was even thinner, flowing throughout my Soul faster than before. These new energies hurt. It felt like they were scratching at the inside of my Soul, even burning pieces of it, but as I tore away more and more, the different energies began to fade, leaving me with what I originally felt. The water-like river that flowed constantly throughout me, filling me with strength.

Finally, the last piece of the dam came off, leaving me to realize what I had just done in the pursuit of magic. What were the repercussions for removing this barrier? Was the constant flow of magic going to kill me? Had I gone too far? I began to panic at the thought of my entire body exploding from simply absorbing too much energy. As I panicked, I could feel the energy leaving me, and the river stopped its flow. I calmed myself at this, and could feel the energy begin to flow through me again. It was something I could control. The inflow of energy was something I could stop at any time I wanted, so if I ever did feel like I was about to explode, I could stop it. I began to laugh, harder than I ever had in the last year. Finally! I could practice on my own! All of the mysteries magic held were now in my grasp. I felt rejuvenated, all of my hard work had finally paid off. Though, the exhaustion I felt from tearing off the barrier began to catch up with me, and I quickly crashed down onto my bed, and into a deep slumber.

I dreamt for the third time in my new life. A new memory appeared before me from my previous life, or at least, what I thought was my previous life. I was on the ground. It was cold and wet, both the ground and my face. I was crying. I was scared. Someone was on top of me. Their fist struck me in the chest. I couldn’t breathe. I tried to look at their face, but it was blurry. Then, another fist struck me on the nose. Blood. I could feel it dripping. I wanted to die. I felt so alone.

I awoke crying. Not screaming, just crying. My mother came into my room and grabbed me. She felt so warm. Everything that had caused me hurt. Then the pain I felt when punched. The constant gasping for air. The terrifying isolation. It all melted away as she held me in her arms.

“It’s all going to be alright little bird. Mother is here. I’ve got you,” she said.

The tears on my face began to dry up as she carried me into the big room. Father was there, an immediate look of worry washing over him as he saw my face.

“Uh, lad? Sean, you ok kiddo?”

“I think he had a nightmare, Aaron.”

“Wow, that’s rare for him. Give him here, I can take care of him. I know you have to go into town today.”

As much as I didn’t want to leave my mother’s arms, I didn’t want to cause her any trouble either. Besides, my father had grown on me. His physical appearance was terrifying, yes, but his carelessness and love for a good hunt were charming in their own way. It was alright with me, I had recovered from the memory already anyways. My father set me down on the ground and sat beside me as Mother went outside. We spent a little bit playing, until Father said he had to go out and chop some firewood for a little bit, since winter was coming soon. Once I was left to my own devices, I began my training once again.

The feeling of the energy rushing inside was one I might never get used to. It strengthened every part of my body. I focused all my energy on my finger once again. Trying to move my Soul just a little bit. I still didn’t know exactly how that was going to help me do magic, but following what my mother instructed was for the best. Just as I was feeling my Soul give way to my will, Father opened the door with a slam.

His face was gloomy, a hint of anger behind a face filled with grief. It didn’t take much to sense that something was wrong. He walked over to the dining table and sat on a chair, his head falling into his hands and his one good eye turned glossy. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t, then my father said, “Go to your room Sean. Father needs to be alone.”

I stood and walked to my room. His expression was frightening, one that made me worry for myself and him. I couldn’t concentrate on my magic for the rest of the day, and just layed in my bed instead, trying to figure out what could make my cheery father turn into what I had seen. After hours, I heard my mother walk in. I heard her gasp, likely at the scene of Father.

“Oh Aaron, I had hoped you wouldn’t have seen them.”

“Cori, please. I need to be left alone. It’s too much right now.”

“Aaron, they were just returning from the River of Division. They were hurt. They had nowhere else to go. I didn’t like seeing them either, but all of that is in the past for us, we moved on-”

“I can’t!” Father yelled, “I can’t just move on. Look at me. Look what happened to me! They’re just like me now aren't they?” Father asked, his voice shaking.

“Honey, please. For Sean. We have to.”

“I can still feel it. I can still hear it. Please Cori. I need to be left alone for now.”

“Aaron.”

“Please, Cori. Just for a little while.”

There was a short silence, then I could hear my mother’s footsteps slowly walk into her room. The house was quiet after that. No other sound was made. I realized something that day. My parents were real people. They had a history, a life before me. Something had happened to them that had brought them to where they are now. My father’s injuries, his scars, they were made by something, and they left more than the physical ones I could see. It was clear to me now that I had been seeing them through rose colored glasses. Another thing was clear to me as well. I loved them. I had no idea what my life was like before, who my parents had been, but I was happy with the ones I had been given now, even with their flaws.

A new sense of resolve began to fill me. My mother’s words, “We need to move on,” filled me with a sense of courage.

My father was held back by a scar on his soul, one similar to mine. The scar that forced me to be afraid of the outside. It was something created in a past I don’t even remember. Somethin I had to overcome. Maybe my own resolve could show my father how to move on from whatever he was facing. Either way, I had to find a way to go outside. To overcome the scars on my Soul.