The plunge did not go deep before I was met with a chaotic and frenetic jumble of emotions and thoughts, arrayed before my mind's eye like a tangled weave of vibrating strings.

It was as every other time I had ever tried to meditate. An ever-changing wash of images, feelings, and memories. With the pressure I was feeling from my current situation I wasn’t sure if I would be able to separate from myself. I really need some DMT right about now. Might make things worse but the way Sorrelly described it made what I need to do sound a lot like ego death from psychedelics. So how do I do that without assistance?

The answer did not come to me in an epiphanic manner, no matter what I tried. Even when I imitated ol’ Jake Peralta and said AHA! In every way I could think of.

First I attempted to actually meditate, which resulted in me just thinking about needing to fix everything, but not much else. I had never been good at the practice, or really even dulling my racing thoughts, without some sort of medicinal aid. I didn’t give up, stealing every meditation technique I could think of from every story I had ever read, fictional or otherwise. All the ones I could think of mostly centered around ceasing your thoughts and just ‘being’.

I tried them all, even taking after one of all time favorite protagonists and trying to use my thoughts as fuel for a fire. That one gave me little feedback, but at least it was something compared to the nothing from the others. A few subjective minutes into it, and I felt something akin to the echo of a vibration caused by a song or other noise bleeding through a wall I was leaning against.

It was no more powerful than an echo would be in a well soundproofed room, however. I doubled down my efforts, but Al’Thorian legend failed me and I got nothing else but more of the panic that had been steadily creeping in since my bath. All other mystical practices failed as well, not even eliciting a response like the flame.

This isn’t working. I need something for me, not what works for other wackadoos. It struck me, suddenly, that I knew the way all along. Anytime I would game, read or work, I always found I did my best when I was in ‘the zone’. And that always seemed to happen the most when I could quit thinking and just react to whatever was presented to me. I was missing my headphones and lacking any form of music to play through them, so no lo-fi or chillstep, but what I did have was an exceptional ability to get a song stuck in my head.

I don’t know if you’ve ever heard the song Havana by Camila Cabello, but just as a warning: If you don’t want to have the next year at least of thoughts ruined by it cropping up every other second then don’t look it up. Seriously, even now as I write this, years and infinite Realms away from Spotify, I still get it stuck in my ol’ noggin.

There, in a prison of flesh, I willingly let it in to imbue my thoughts, mentally joining in and singing along as if it was my favorite tune to have ever been tuned. A few hundred ‘ooh na-na’s’ later and I finally noticed a change. It was indistinguishable from the brief ringing I had heard when attempting RJ’s version of meditation, but instead of fading instantly it remained. It was the sort of quiet like voices in the next room heard through a closed door. I could hear there was something, I just could not tell exactly what it was. Focusing on it only made it move away too, like a squiggle seen in the corner of an eye.

There is no try, only do, I thought, though even my mental voice was a terrible Yoda. Quit thinking about it and just do it already! I yelled at myself, renewing the loop of catchy chorus, and doubled down on not doubling down. Eventually the sound - if sound it could be called - returned and though it wavered as I struggled to not struggle of thinking, I managed to keep the words repeating through my mind like a Buddhist mantra. I hadn’t tried that prior as I did not know any actual mantras, but it served the same purpose.

My mana ooh na-na

I really need to find my mana ooh na-na

Even if it takes forever

My life rests with my mana

My mana ooh na-na

Before you judge my lyrical prose, please bear in mind that I listened to a lot of Weird Al as a kid. Mostly I blame drugs. And yes, I know Resonance is not mana considering mana is fictional, but come on. They’re different in name only, really.

My last ditch attempt worked, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing and you wouldn’t be reading this. At the time though, I was not sure of my success, and it came as a very welcome surprise when the tones I faintly heard grew stronger and stronger until I could clearly hear it through the static of my thoughts and all the other strings of sound bombarding my body with pain or noise from the outside world.

My mantra ceased but my goal did not disappear, instead its presence felt solidified and I knew in that odd subconscious way it wouldn’t be as hard to find in the future. Maybe the book will have more info. If I ever get to figure out how to use it. Weird how it didn’t pop up at all after I woke up, but then again I never tried. Stupid. Shit! My ramblings ceased as my Resonance flickered. Focus, Creed!

It did not go away, thankfully, and the connection I felt remained. I thought about what Sorrely said I needed to do and so I listened to the Resonance coming from within, trying to match it with what I remembered from when I had selected my Foci. It sounded off like a song just different enough to escape copyright infringement. The melody was the same but the flourishes sounded dissonant; a half-step down when you would have expected a half-step up.

I homed in on the discrepant tones, assuming these would be the Indira extracts Resonance and whatever it had attached to. As for how to move them.. that was a tougher question. They didn’t exactly say how to do it, so it must be simple, right? Yup, simple. I deluded myself as I ‘stared’ at the mess before me, how to affect the strings of sound as inscrutable as string theory itself.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Yelling at it, or rather sending all caps thoughts at it, did nothing. Just willing it to move was equally ineffectual. It was as I was humming, as well as my mediocre skills allowed, the same song my soul had sung to me prior, that I noticed something odd. The problems with my actual Resonance did not just vanish, but there was a change.

Ghostly lines of sound, imitations of the ones that were within me, came into being slowly from the cloud of Pneuma surrounding my inner self, superimposing themselves over their counterparts before fading when I stopped matching my true Resonance. Hmm.. so maybe I just project how it should be and they’ll fix themselves? Man I hope that’s right. I wonder how much time.. nope, not going to even think about it. Not important right now anyway.

I brought every ounce of will and musical ability, as lacking as they both were, to bear and visualized the song my soul produced when it changed. The ghostly replica returned but refused to meld at first, touching but not quite melding together. I felt pain in a distant corner of my mind, most likely my body breaking down, and as much as I did not want to dwell on how much time I had left I couldn’t not think of the grim reminder that it was all or nothing.

All! That’s it! It wasn’t just a sound. I thought back to when I had selected my Foci, and instead of just trying to replicate the noise I had heard, I layered it with the feeling of completeness I had felt. The rush of hope and excitement that burst through me when I had pressed that final button. The sense of knowing that I was on the precipice of true and lasting change, that from that moment on I was truly the author of my own life in a way I literally could not have been on Earth.

When I managed to reach the same level of intensity I had felt then—or at least a good approximation of it—everything came together, seemingly at least. The ghostly lines became as real as the ones I felt from inside, combining with them and then... nothing. What am I missing? That has to be it. Wait, no. If making my Pneuma take the form of my Resonance is enforcing my will upon it, I still have to use that to move the Indira so whatever toxins I got from my bath go with it.. Man I wish I could ask that mouse some questions. Note to self, don’t call them a mouse if I make it out.

I started over. Feeling out my Resonance as it had felt to me in the room. When I had first selected those options it had felt like Iwas changing, on a deep level. Like parts of me were being replaced; the old forced out to make room for the new. Even if my situation was a little different in the cave, I felt it was still a good analogue. Thankfully, I wasn’t wrong. Or rather, I was right enough that I didn’t meet an early end.

I willed my pneuma into shape, ephemeral lines gaining solidity and feeling, and overlaid it onto my own Resonance. Only this time, I pushed when I did. A firm grip on the idea that what I held in my mind was the only thing that belonged. Thinking and feeling two different thoughts came surprisingly easy to me but then again humans, at least the ones I knew from Earth, are very much creatures of duality. Dichotomous thoughts swirling around each other, not unlike what I gathered from Aurum and Ylems oppositional yet still harmonious battle.

With the memory of my Resonance in one hand, and the idea of change and replacement in the other, things ended up a little different. If I had had lungs to breathe in the odd mental space I was floating I would have let out a very heavy sigh of relief. My strands of created Resonance subsumed into that of my body and soul and the secondary creation I made wrapped around what did not belong like a child confidently circling the differences in a Highlights photo. I had never been good at those, always circling the wrong things, but thanks to the book I knew the difference in a way my eyes could never tell me.

As what I had made, and what I was combined, I yanked on the second string of thought and pulled mentally. A searing pain blinded my mind for a moment, but with it’s passing came.. Something. A sound of pure dissonance wrapped in a blanket-like feeling of containment. This must be the Indira and whatever I had taken in. So now what? I pondered it for a time, though not long as I did not know how much time I had left in that place.

It was maybe not the best solution—and knowing what I do now it was a haphazard solution at best—but I thought of trash compactors. The ones you would find in junkyards crushing cars. I pictured one in my mind, willing it into a semblance of being with the clouds of Pneuma that floated everywhere around me, and crushed. I was left with a speck of energy still there, and though the dissonance had mostly faded and the containment feeling barely registered, there was still something there. I didn’t know if that was okay, if leaving that behind would cause issues in my future, and so I tried something different.

I pictured the idea of a black hole, not the part of its concept that nothing can escape it, but the aspect of a singularity. Something crushed by pressure so heavy that it took less space than a length of Planck. It formed from my Pneuma, swirling together out of nothing, and the cloudy nature of the fugacious substance coalesced into a vortex surrounding the piece of deathly energy. The speck left from my trials compressed. I struggled, forcing it by sheer will to do so again and again, until I could no longer sense anything from where it had been floating. No sense of dissonance, or the Indira. Just a swirl of Pneuma dissipating back into the fog it had come from.

My Resonance had changed some as well. It seemed to grow stronger, its presence much more solid than it had been when I first sensed it. Even more than when I had selected my choices and felt it rang through my very soul. It hung there, trailing off into wherever my body was and leading through the fog of Pneuma to wherever my soul resided. A numinous strand vibrating with vitality and a sense of wholeness. Saying I felt relieved that things had worked out as well as they did would be a vast understatement, and if I had been awake in the real world, I would have immediately smoked and gone to sleep. I had things to do however, and as much as I was grateful to Sorrelly for saving me, I knew it would be rude and not a little unsafe to just pass out at this point.

And so I felt for my Resonance again, reaching out to it and surprised that it took almost no effort. The feeling practically jumped into my hands. Instead of letting go or forcing some change to it however, I pulled on it. ‘Hand’ over ‘hand’, I used it as a guide to travel back to my body and my savior that was still laying across the small cave. There’s gotta be a better way to do this. First chance I get I’m finding a tutor, or teacher. I’m sure they have some kind of adult classes somewhere around here. I hope. I hesitated for a moment, before resuming my mental journey. I can’t believe I’m complaining about how hard it is to do magic. Magic!

I scoffed at myself, and continued towards the world outside my mind. Surprisingly, it felt like waking up after a long nap. That kind of foggy mental state that you have at first when you oversleep. I did what I would normally do, and stretched, relishing in the feeling of movement and not being locked in place like my entire body had tetanus. I smacked my lips, which did nothing as they were still dry as a bone, and opened my eyes. Only to jerk back from the overly large golden eyes staring into mine, and banged my head against the hard stone of the cavern floor.

“Fuck!” I yelled involuntarily, before immediately looking abashed and apologizing to the creature who had saved my life. I felt a sense of amusement along the link they sent to me, and a little embarrassment as well.

|Sorry. It’s just.. What you did. I’ve never seen it before. It was interesting, to say the least, and I’m glad you survived. Now, let’s talk about what you owe me.

“Wait, what?”