Nine days remained before the advent of the new wave.

With all the ceaseless tumult that had engulfed Alicia's life in recent days, she had only been able to enjoy some respite following the strange meeting—though in the next few days, she would have to attend yet another summons related still to the wave's preparation. Indeed, the busiest sixteen-year-old of her peers she was; almost equalling a state official had she been appointed as a permanent servant. But today, Alicia wanted to do something that sounded quite urgent and important: to tune into her subconscious.

The sun still held sway in the noon sky. Together with Wisesa, they headed to the open park near the Tamoanchanese enclave. Concentrating under the false sun on the dim sky dome, in the park rattled with children playing, food carts ringing, qilins clattering, and carriages rumbling was not the setting most ideal in Alicia's opinion. Unfortunately, Wisesa was too indolent to be taken to the capital’s upper level for a more peaceful venue.

"Why we gotta be going all the way to the top?" he questioned. "Meditation ain't just about the location; it's about delving deeper into yourself. It's all about that state of mind."

"A quiet, airy, cosy place is definitely a must for successful meditation," Alicia opined.

"You can meditate even in a box."

"The Ninshu handbook I read said that! Mama said the same thing too!"

"And...? Did it work? Are you now a Ninshu practitioner like your mama?”

The lass’ eyebrows swooped sharp. "In any case, her words make sense—"

"Well, good luck finding like-minded people—"

"No, no, hold on! Why do ye have to sulk like that?" Alicia scolded, though her bloated face stroke as sulking much more.

"I mean, you seem to be more versed in meditation theory than I am."

"S-sorry... I'm just suggesting based on what I know. Isn't that why monks go into seclusion?"

"Well, they suck."

"What? You obviously secluded yourself in the forest!"

"I'm an introvert."

"And you took advantage of that seclusion to meditate, restraining Barong."

"B-but... Okay, look. My statement stands. Whatever book you read says so because Westerners prefer to pursue comfort. Being a good meditator means being able and trained to concentrate on yourself wherever you are. You don't always find yourself in a cosy bedchamber, or a vineyard, or a sparse grassy plateau. I doubt you can even align with your subconscious before the new wave."

Alicia narrowed her eyes in disbelief. Wisesa with his classic ruse. Blaming the race as an outlet for idleness and reluctance. "Is that true, Barong?" the lass shifted. "Surely, you possess greater insight than him.”

"Each individual meditates in their own way,” replied Barong, the kitten who emerged rolling on Wisesa's back. When the rolling stopped, it sprawled facing Alicia. "As an aspect of Sukra, I don't meditate, but Wisesa can meditate even amidst sleep or tending to pigs when I infiltrate his consciousness beyond our usual encounters.”

"Did you catch that, Miss?" Wisesa reclined, his chest puffed out.

"I accept even the smallest gesture of gratitude," Barong said again.

"Yeah, right, smartass. You drove me crazy to meditate at such a time."

In the end, Alicia relented; she climbed onto the surface of the wide wooden beam and assumed a cross-legged posture. "Awright, ye're the expert. So, how does one meditate?"

"Your pose is pretty good," Wisesa commended. "Close your eyes, breathe slowly, and don't think."

"D-don't think—"

"Don’t speak. Don't think about anything. Let the thoughts from your subconscious traverse your mind. Dive into it. Recognize it. Familiarize yourself with its current so you know where to look when you need to."

What sort of babble was that bloke talking about? Alicia did not comprehend a single morsel of it. A subtle twitch of her back, her squeezed, shut eyes, and her bobbing head betrayed it. "This is absolute confounding, Wisesa. How can folks abstain from thought? If something called 'conscious thought' flits through my mind, doesnae that mean I'm thinking?"

"By the gods, if you can't shut up I can help gag you," the lad's voice was dripped with annoyance.

Alicia winced. "Ugh! Tis too abstract! Why is everything related to spirituality always abstract? Tis hard to imagine!"

"Don't imagine it!" Wisesa's tone rose half an octave. "Westerners like yourself are so accustomed to their senses and tangible stuff that they overlook the spiritual side of things!"

"Wisesa, don't be too hard on her," Barong advised Wisesa. "She's a Westerner. How can you expect her to understand all this right away?"

"If only you didnae inject race into this," Alicia chided with pursed lips.

Shaking his head and sighing, Wisesa hunkered before Alicia then clasped her hands together. "Fact is, you're always aiming to validate existence through the tangible, sticking to empirical logic. Trying to gauge if someone's got magic skills by relying on a mana manipulation detector is one of them. Why do you think magical arts are called mystic arts? It's about grasping and exploring the intangible—something beyond the concrete—to unleash a person's immense potential, like weaving the threads of reality. And something mystical cannot be fully comprehended by the mind; it hits you like inspiration. So don't think. Don't wonder. Those subconscious thoughts will come naturally in due time."

"I doubt this will work."

"See, that question messes with your connection to your subconscious. To your ultimate potential. Keep throwing it out there, and your subconscious starts buying into it without you even realizing, just 'cause you're in the dark about its existence. Maybe that's why you can't do magic? You think you can, but deep down, you're buying into what others are saying."

Alicia fell silent. Her lips twitched. Wisesa could sense the tightening of her gloved hands. The lad then chose to hover his voice just above a whisper. "Let the mystery come by itself. You'll understand."

Despite the gravity etched on Alicia's face, she nodded without looking back. Either she was nodding in a pretence of understanding, or resignation, or unwillingness to listen to Wisesa's increasingly convoluted explanations.

Gradually, Wisesa let go of his embrace and retreated in silence.

"S-sorry if I have to speak again! I'll be quiet after this, promise!" Alicia suddenly exclaimed. Her eyes remained tightly shut. "How long do I have to do this?"

"As long as you want, Missy," the young man replied. "But true meditation doesn't transpire in under fifteen minutes.”

And with that, Wisesa took another big step, receding one stride at a time, disappearing behind a wall. After leaning back for a few seconds, he peeked once more at the petite lass cross-legged and blindfolded in the crowd of people. The children observed her in surprise, and a chuckle escaped the lad's lips. Barong could not wrap its head around it.

"You're never satisfied to play tricks on her, are you? She genuinely needs your help, you know?" Barong reproached its host, ruining the little moment of joy.

"I did help her, you fool!" hissed Wisesa. "Everything I said about my meditation method is true. I laughed because a Westerner meditating in the middle of a stifling garden is weird and stupid. And her strange thoughts about inner things are equally stupid."

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

Whimsical it may seem, but Alicia herself took Wisesa's instructions to heart, trying to concentrate and endure the discomfort of meditating in full view of numerous onlookers. She could not deny that the screams of children disturbed her ears. Footsteps so close they suddenly stopped ran shivers down her spine, as if they saw her as a strange landmark, a monument of shame in the heart of the park. Living in an underground realm should have not invited the sensation of the rustling wind, but she swore it toyed with her hair and its cool caress tingled her skin.

Alicia tried to survive the first five minutes. It was nearly impossible to keep from speaking her mind, considering it was tantamount to thinking. Her breathing was still slow and regular; at least that was her biggest contribution to focus and calm. In the recess of her mind, all she could discern was a dark universe—just like what happened when her eyes were closed. Bits and pieces of memories threatened to breach the "no thinking" barrier, but Alicia intercepted them in the nick of time.

Before long, fragmentary grains of imagination.

Over time, both memories and imagination mixed together into an inspiration. A great and powerful inspiration to break down the barriers.

Can Orb really not teach me to control my subconscious that I had to go to a teacher of dubious qualifications named Wisesa Rukmamenggala?

Alicia's expression soured. The urge to call out Wisessa welled out, but the no-speaking rule still applied. She steeled herself, as if screaming in her mind, and resumed her breathing. Another meditation attempt was made.

Five more minutes elapsed. Every breath she took rendered her more pliant. Every sound became discernable to her ears, and she could sort out which one she allowed into her mind. Then she envisioned sparks.

No, why was she envisioning something like sparks? It was not merely her thoughts.

Another spark came, numbing Alicia's legs, obliterating the sensation of the very wooden blocks beneath her. The dark universe slowly oozed out grey lumps like they came out of a wax mould. Nose, eyes, and ears. A face was imprinted. A calm, sleeping face. A familiar face.

Her own face.

Inspiration coursed through Alicia's entire being. Inspiration that said, she began to understand. Following its current, an extraordinary phenomenon transpired: silence seemed audible. Long, faint murmurs, but Alicia could hear them—or sense them.

For years she had attempted something similar based on Ninshu's art handbook, and only now did she taste the fruit of her silent efforts.

But because of that, Alicia seemed to disregard the rules of Wisesa’s guidance, and let thoughts and memories, again, mingle in the waves of inspiration. Suddenly the purple and white eyes manifested before her closed lids, striking her like a bolt of lightning!

The lass jumped, crumpling to the ground.

Her breathing ability was forgotten for a moment until Alicia thumped her chest and a sigh rushed out. The Evil Eyes that always loomed over her had brazed their existence in her deepest mind like a best friend. The lass’ stumbling block.

"Wisesa," Alicia panted, "I think I get it, but I also dinnae get it. Is that the right expression? Dinnae ken, but it's there in my gut! But here's the kicker..."

Alicia scanned her surroundings, but she could not find the man in question. Not only Wisesa, everyone else had vanished. The fake sky shifted to a foreboding red. The caws of melancholy crows played in her ears—whether real crows or pre-recorded auditory backdrop for the sake of immersivity.

"No way..." Alicia muttered. Have I been meditating all day? Did I genuinely meditate, or did I simply succumb to sleep? The Evil Eyes usually only come through dreams!

She quickly checked her bag; everything remained in place. Orb chirped to ask about the progress of her meditation.

"Seriously...," Alicia pouted. []

***

As Wisesa walked home through the mouths of the alleys, one caught his attention due to the screams and cries of a child issuing from it. The sandaled steps halted, and he began to track backwards.

Myriad voices indeed breathed life into the city, and Wisesa could have ignored that one unsettling cacophony, had not it stricken him as familiar.

Casting his gaze down the narrow alleyway, Wisesa’s eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of Kaito, who had just been toppled by an unseen force. Tome was there too; she merely sat on her knees and cried in despair with her arms aloft. The lad’s discerning eyes noted the misplaced trinket—the bracelet that once adorned the wee lass’ wrist, now was in the hands of a scruffy-haired, snot-nosed urchin who happened to be taller than the sibling duo.

The urchin threw the bracelet to the ground and was about to do something that would amplify Tome's misery: to reduce it to worthless shards underfoot.

But that was before his being and that of his gang were stunned by a shadow cloaking over them.

The slow retreat was met by a savage growl. When the growl crescendoed to a dead-waking roar, the boys echoed their terror, speeding back into the inky recesses of their lair.

Except for that earlier stout one who was teetering on the edge of desecrating Tome's keepsake. His equilibrium betrayed him, and his bum hit the ground hard. His chin was now vibrating like mad—like witnessing a mighty god for the first time.

He was indeed witnessing a god.

"Tasukete...," his voice faltered.

The next thing he knew the nape of his neck felt the heat of Barong's fingers tugging at his collar. The creature's menacing countenance, replete with steamy fangs, met the boy's gaze, reducing him to tears.

Kaito and Tome recognised the monster's form, reinforced by a raspy voice that turned their heads by surprise. "I wonder what kind of treatment that brat deserves, Barong?"

"What treatment, huh?" Barong's grin grew wicked. "I find myself quite peckish," it declared in Kagatse's tongue, wrapping its tongue around the boy's head. The brat's screams grew hoarse.

Kaito immediately jolted awake in panic, cradling his drooping right hand with the other. "Wisesa-nichan! Please ask Barong-sama not to eat that boy!"

"Oh, so the cat's hungry, huh?" Wisesa smirked. "I guess one brat gone means one step closer to world peace. Do it, Barong!"

"Itadakimasu!" Barong's maw unhinged to the point of its face rolled backwards. As the brat's futile kicks grew wilder, a torrent of urine cascaded everywehere. Instinctively, Wisesa and the siblings stepped back.

"Fucking gross!" the lad exclaimed. "Barong, just hurry up and eat—"

"No!" Kaito forcefully rammed Wisesa's midsection with his left shoulder. That was the extent of the unpretentious boy's ability. "It was my fault for accidentally spilling his tlacoyo and staining his clothes! Don't do this, please!"

Wisesa sighed. "What a noble creature you are. No wonder you're the subject of humour. Alright, Barong, quit it. Throw him in the garbage."

One last rumbling roar from Barong before sealing both the urchin’s fate into the bin headfirst and the bin itself. The muffled cry was still audible. The bin shook as it fell, and he followed his friend with the metal oblong still attached to his body. There was no way he would not develop his first post-traumatic stress disorder after this.

After Barong shrank back into a kitten, Wisesa grabbed the Kaito by the collar and fixed him with a death stare. "Dude, I get you're just a kid, but I swear a kid can't be that stupid, I certainly wasn’t! If you're so weak, why pretend to take on a fight? It's not like you're surrounded or anything!"

"Because I felt bad when I spilt the kid's food earlier. I was about to take them to the Tamoanchanese elders to make up for the food, before he got violent, then grabbed Tome and took her bracelet."

Wisesa observed Tome, still hiccupping and clutching the bracelet to her chest.

"It's the bracelet again, for gods' sake! You like that useless item more than your little sister."

"That bracelet is not useless! It's a legacy of our father and mother—"

"Oh, this reminds me of our mum and dad! What, are you guys too senile that you need reminders about your parents? What about you, Tome?" the glint in Wisesa's eyes startled the little girl. "Your brain hasn't developed yet, huh? Do you see mum and dad here, not somewhere else, not even in your freakin' mind?"

Tome teetered on the edge of tears once more.

"Wisesa-nichan, please don't make Tome-chan cry again!" pleaded Kaito helplessly, eyes welling with tears.

"I think you've made your point earlier, Wisesa," Barong agreed. "Soften up."

Wisesa's lips clamped shut forcefully. No more jeers followed, but his stance remained taut and his glaring persisted. "Don’t think I’ll be as gentle as Alicia, your foster mother. Face the reality, kids—there's only two of you,” he said again firmly, but his tone was already a little subtle. "You need to look after each other, especially you with your sister. Would you prefer your parents' bracelet destroyed or walk around with two mementoes in your hand, huh?"

Kaito and Tome just bowed their heads. "We apologise, Wisesa-nichan."

"And the right arm your foster mother gave you is already turning blue!" Wisesa pointed at Kaito's arm. "Don't tell me it’s broken. Oh, she will be pissed to hear that!"

"N-no! My arm is fine! It's just swollen!" Kaito stammered.

"Lies!" Without warning, Wisesa lifted Kaito's arm, eliciting a loud cry of pain. That did not budge the glaring lad; he kept pressing it from end to end, massaging the centre of the blue mark.

"Sprain. Sucks," Wisesa sneered. He then sat cross-legged and prepared various flowers and herbs from his drawstring bag.

"What should we do in a seedy alley like this?" asked Barong.

"Shut up, cat."

He pounded the herbs and flowers together into a smooth ointment. His mouth mouthed a mantra as nimble hands danced until the ointment emitted smoke and boiled on its own. Everyone’s nose caught its fragrant scent and was pierced at the same time by its spicy sensation.

"You could have thrown trash or something to lure them to Tamoanchanese camp and have the elders kidnap them until the bracelets come back," Wisesa commented again as he smeared the hot ointment onto Kaito's hand. Though it stung, Kaito could feel the pain in his hand dull.

"If you really want to fight, now is the time for you to learn martial arts—or mystic arts, even better. You're a Kagatsean, right? How about you start activating that mana point on your stomach," Wisesa advised again. After finishing the hand rub, Wisesa washed them off with water. The hue on Kaito's hand cleared. The heaviness that haunted him was gone.

Kaito managed to flex his arm freely. "Wisesa-nichan," he began, "thank you very much—"

But instead, he received a smack from Wisesa.

"Just so you know. Alicia will be furious if she finds out I didn't heal your hand. Idiot." Wisesa sighed and left them for the camp.

Only when he drew back the camp curtains did he find all the Tamoanchanese present—the male elder Cipac, then female elders, women, and children—stopping all activity to fix their eyes on him. Holding back his saliva, Wisesa sidled to the side, hoping they would mistake him for a ghost moving the curtain.

How the Divine had cursed him. Their eyes still followed his every move. A woman among them immediately broke the silence, "Is it true that Tlaltecuhtli is inside your body?" []