Jeanne stood before the door, her right hand clenched at her side. She raised to knock, then dropping it quickly and repeating this process. This is stupid, she kept thinking to herself. This is absolutely stupid. She looked around, trying to see if someone was around as she tried to knock on the door again. Dropping the whole effort crossed her mind, simply saying no one was there and she could pretend to forget the matter.

Then she remembered seeing Leonidas on the deck, unmoving, appearing lifeless and the horrifying sensation began returning. She steeled herself holding up her hand and hurling towards the door slab. Before touching the wood grain, the door opened on the other side. Benkin, hi hand still on the handle, barely avoided being struck by Jeanne.

“Whoa there!” he said calmly. “That’s a rather unorthodox way at making an entrance.”

“I didn’t know you were going to open the door before I did that,” Jeanne replied.

Benkin chuckled. “Fair enough. What brings you to my humble temporary abode?”

Jeanne tapped her side with her fist. “Since we’ve known each other, you’ve been able to take a lot of we gone through with a certain … calmness.”

“I have been told, yes.”

“Well … how do you do it?”

“Do it?”

“All my life, I’ve had this fire within me. Whether it was exploring the wilds outside my village, fighting anyone I thought crossed me the wrong way, or who’d push me around. And … I’m tired. I’m of this being what drives me forward. I’m tired of this rage just being who I am.”

Benkin nodded slowly. “Hmm, I know that one well. More than I care to admit.”

“Then you know what it’s like?”

“I do,” Benkin said to her. “I understand the temptation to feed that fire. To let a passion so pure and unyielding guide your hands.” Jeanne looked at hers, thinking back to all the people she’s fought with her bare fists in her lifetime. “It can be the very strength to win your battles over a terrible enemy, and the very cause of woe to everything you hold dear.”

“Can you teach me to control it?”

“Control it?” Benkin asked. “You can’t control it. Your emotions are a natural part of yourself. Controlling it is like trying to control a natural force entirely. It’s impossible.”

“But

“Then what can I do?”

“You learn to glide with it. Letting the emotion flow, like water down a stream.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Oh I don’t know how well I glide,” Jeanne said, scratching the back of her head.

“No one glides well at first, and even when you’ve mastered the art, you will flounder every so often.”

“Well,” Jeanne said nervously, “I guess I have nothing to lose.”

“Course I will need an organ you have any attachment to,” Benkin said with a smile.

“You’ve been hanging around Doc too much.”

“Not for that one, that’s been a tried and true go to for some time for me.”

“Outstanding,” Jeanne said, none too amused.

“But I guess getting you started on some breathing exercises would not be a terrible start.”

“Do I need to do anything special?”

“Can you breathe?”

“I think so.”

“Are you able to sit in a way that comfortable?”

“I’d like to think so yes?”

“Then that’s about most of the exercise by itself,” Benkin said, sitting down on an empty space in the room and crossing his legs.

“And there isn’t anything else?” Jeanne asked, sitting down similar to Benkin.

“Physically, yes. Though the mental part I can walk you through so you know what come with it.”

“All right, ready when you are.”

“First close your eyes.”

Jeanne followed the command. “All right.”

“Now, breath in slowly counting to three, then hold it for three, and then let it out for three.”

Jeanne began following this pattern, feeling her muscles loosen with each breath.

“Now, picture yourself in a vast meadow, far from away any living person. Above you is a bright blue sky, beneath your feet is an ocean of grass stretching from horizon to horizon.”

Jeanne slowly imagined herself in long standing grass moving with the gentle winds. The humming of bees and other insects softly touching her ears mixing with the rustling of the leaves from distant trees. The scent of the wet soil reminded her of her family’s farm, back in Kolville. She could even recall the taste of the wild berries in the bushes lined along the roads of the county that she’d pick when she was a little girl.

She began inhaling as the image of Sabine murdered form cam back to her mind. Pale skin and eyes painted red with torn flesh and blood. Her sister’s face draped with drenched hair, but her eyes still stared into Jeanne’s soul, causing Jeanne to gasp and scramble towards a wall. Benkin opened his eyes and made his way cautiously towards Jeanne.

“What happened?” he asked her.

Jeanne rubbed her eyes, blinking quickly as she looked around the interior of the room. “I. I don’t know. I saw myself in a field, just like you said and right out of nowhere, there she was.”

“Your sister?”

Jeanne nodded.

“I can’t say that’s unheard of. Especially when you’re first trying to master putting things out of your mind.”

Jeanne began catching her breath, sweat beading from her brow. “It’s like anytime I try to put it out of my mind, she comes back with greater presence.”

“Unfortunately, that’s the trick.”

“What do you mean?”

“The more you try to push a very specific thought out of your mind, the more it is going to push back.”

“So … how do I not let it do that?”

“Honestly you just learn to let it wander on its own. The more you try to push it away, the more it’s going to try and come back to the forefront of your thoughts.”

“Does it ever get easier?”

“I’d like to think so,” Benkin, nodding slowly. “Though it’s one of those things that comes with time, and practice.”

“I guess having it mastered on the first try might’ve been expecting a bit much,” Jeanne said, trying to hide her disappointment.

“If it was, you’d see far more people doing this regularly. Do you want to try it again?”

Jeanne shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want?”

Jeanne shook her head. “No, I want to do this.”

“All right,” Benkin said, taking his seat once more, gesturing Jeanne to follow him, “let’s give it another go, shall we?”