On our second evening back in Vegas, Mahya made a grave tactical error: She sat with Rue to watch the movie Max. Rue discovered that the dog’s role was to guard and patrol. From that moment on, he decided he was our watchdog and walked around the house’s perimeter, sniffing the air and barking at everything that moved. And when I say everything that moved, I mean it literally. He protected us from birds, ants, one poor butterfly that flew into our yard, and, of course, cats. Fortunately, the bungalows on either side of us were also rental units and were currently empty.
His vigilant eyes scanned every nook and cranny, his ears twitching at the slightest sound. He took his newfound role with an amusing and endearing seriousness. The sight of Rue standing tall, tail raised in alertness, filled me with a strange sense of pride. Despite his overzealous approach, there was something comforting about having such a dedicated protector. Not to mention, he looked cute and adorable while doing it.
After a few rounds of patrolling, he would strut up to someone and, in his unique way, announce very loudly, “Rue is watchdog! Rue on the prowl!” His chest puffed out with pride, eyes gleaming with excitement and duty, making sure everyone knew he was on the job.
The third time Rue announced his patrol to Sonak, I heard him mutter under his breath, “I swear, he told me to buy the Telepathy skill just to torture me with his familiar.”
Sonak’s face was a mixture of amusement and exasperation as he shook his head, his lips curling into a reluctant smile. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he grumbled, trying to hide a smirk.
Rue wagged his tail furiously and announced, “Patrol important! Rue protector!”
I was sitting on the ground, trying to connect to the earth, when Rue came over to announce his progress in his usual boisterous manner. “Rue do patrol! Rue do prowl!” And, once again, it broke my concentration, much to my chagrin.
My shoulders slumped in frustration as I rubbed my temples, trying to maintain my focus. Rue’s infectious enthusiasm was a major distraction. His bounding energy seemed to seep into the ground, making it difficult for me to achieve the stillness I needed, but it was hard not to be amused by his dedication.
I scratched his ears while trying to come up with a solution. “Listen, buddy, I need to concentrate on what I’m doing. So how about we make a deal?” I said, my voice gentle yet firm.
He wagged his tail furiously, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Rue like deal!”
“Excellent. Continue your patrol, and in the evening, after dinner, give me a full report of all your findings. Okay?”
He stuck his paw out for a handshake, his tail wagging so hard it was a blur. “Rue deal with John!”
I laughed out loud; he was learning such strange things from the TV. As I shook his paw, a mischievous grin spread across my face. “You can make the same deal with Mahya and Al but not with Sonak. Continue reporting to Sonak as usual.”
Rue’s eyes sparkled with understanding and amusement, and he gave my face a vigorous tongue bath before bounding off. “Yes, boss!”
I turned my attention back to the earth. Achieving mana oneness came easily to me, but I couldn’t achieve Unity no matter what I tried. It was clear that without Unity, I couldn’t ask the earth for help. It drove me crazy because, with the wind, it had been so effortless; we connected. The earth, however, was proving to be much more stubborn.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the cool earth beneath me. The solidity of the ground was both reassuring and frustrating. It reminded me of the stability I was missing, the groundedness I needed to find. Despite feeling the earth’s slow and steady pulse, it remained just out of reach.
I tried to figure out the difference, and why it wasn’t working. Thinking back, I remembered the moment I achieved Unity with the wind. The wind was dynamic, free-spirited, and unconfined—ever-changing, unpredictable, and capricious. It was adaptable and fluid, playful, and chaotic. These were the qualities I connected with because they resonated within me, too, at least partially.
The earth, on the other hand, was stable, patient, and enduring—resilient, solid, and unyielding. It was stoic, impassive, durable, weathered, protective, and steadfast. It was also nurturing and fertile, diverse and adaptable. These qualities were more complicated for me to connect with. I realized I used to embody these traits in the past, but now, looking back, I saw that much of it was because I was carrying a lot of emotional baggage. I never really got the chance to discover my true self. My true self was much closer to the wind: scattered, bouncing between tasks, playful, and quick-witted.
For the first time, I truly examined myself and the changes I had undergone over the last eight years, ever since I discovered the ability to travel between the Gates. I used to be solemn, withdrawn, introverted, and highly goal-oriented—focused on money and success. Now, I still appreciate money, but more for the comfort it could bring, not for its own sake.
I sat for a long time, trying to understand this profound shift in my personality. I knew that much of the heaviness I felt in the past was due to my childhood experiences. Over ten visits to the ER for severe injuries, coupled with loneliness and sadness, had left a mark. But it wasn’t just that. If I didn’t have these qualities before, no matter what I went through, they wouldn’t have manifested. So, they were always a part of me; I just had to rediscover them.
The memories of my childhood flickered in my mind like old photographs. Each scar and each moment of pain shaped me into who I am today. But I also realized that these experiences had given me a unique strength, a resilience that was as much a part of me as the air I breathed. The earth beneath me seemed to hum quietly, acknowledging this truth, and our connection solidified a little bit more.
I recalled something about mental influence in the Traits description and revisited it. The aspects of Vitality stood out:
Vitality
Physical: This quality determines your energy, vigor, liveliness, and activity level. It also determines your longevity—how much life you have in you, and your physical appearance—how young and vibrant you look.
Mental: This quality determines your feeling of aliveness, participation in life, and enjoyment of life, as well as your sense of wonder and excitement about life.
When I looked in the mirror, I appeared twenty and felt like a twenty-year-old, not almost fifty. Lis looked young, but he bore the weight of his years. You could feel his experience and the trials he had endured. Mahya, though over a hundred, felt like a mischievous twenty-year-old trouble-making imp.
Reflecting on these differences, I realized that while the wind’s traits came naturally to me now, the earth’s qualities were within me, too. My past had overshadowed them, but they were still a part of who I was. My journey now was about reconnecting with those qualities, balancing the wind’s freedom with the earth’s steadfastness, and finding true Unity within myself. I needed to find this internal Unity and make peace with the aspects that reminded me of the “dark days” before I could progress further. I still had water and fire to work with in the future, after earth. And I realized I wouldn’t be able to progress before I made peace with everything in me and acknowledged it.
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The path to Unity was not straightforward. It was a winding road filled with twists and turns, highs and lows. But I was determined to walk it, embrace every part of myself, and find the necessary balance. The wind had taught me to be free, but the earth would teach me to be grounded.
The problem was that an internal journey of this kind takes more than a few days. This kind of internal journey required progress and growth rather than something that could be completed quickly with a set schedule.
Lis said that we are our mana, and our mana is a representation of us. For the first time, I understood what he meant. I understood it in the past, but never truly grasped the full extent. Now I did. My mana was the reflection of me and everything in me, so to use it efficiently and achieve everything possible, I first needed to truly understand myself and then accept myself: good, bad, and all the rest without suppressing any part of my makeup, whether emotional, mental, or physical.
It was a humbling realization. The journey of self-discovery was not about perfection, but about acceptance. It was about acknowledging every flaw and every strength and finding the harmony within. As I sat there, the earth beneath me felt warmer and more welcoming. It was as if it was encouraging me to take this journey, to dig deep and unearth the truths hidden within my soul.
Socrates’ saying, “Know thyself,” didn’t apply in this case. It was “Understand thyself, accept thyself, embrace thyself and everything you are, and express this understanding in the real world.” Only after achieving this would I succeed in mastering my mana and all it entails. I needed to learn who I was as a person in the present moment and accept every part of me—the good, the bad, the strong, and the weak.
I sat there, feeling the weight of these realizations settling in. Achieving Unity with the earth required me to connect with qualities that had once been second nature but were now buried deep within me. Grounding and stability were no longer familiar; nurturing and fertility felt like distant memories, especially with how hard it was for me to feel empathy, and my lack of care for people I didn’t feel any connection to. Yet, the earth was patient and enduring, waiting for me to find my way back.
As I reflected further, I recognized that reconnecting with these aspects was not just about remembering who I was, but also about who I had become and who I wanted to be in the future. The resilience and adaptability of the earth were traits I needed to cultivate anew. They were within me, overshadowed by years of change and running away from terrible memories and pain, but still there, waiting to be rediscovered.
The qualities of stone came to mind: solid and unyielding, ancient and timeless, stoic and impassive, durable and weathered, protective and steadfast. These traits seemed even more distant, almost alien. Yet, I realized they represented an unyielding strength I had once known but had lost touch with. It wasn’t about being stubborn but about standing firm in my beliefs, being a protector, a foundation. And this time, not only the protector of my own self and sanity, but my friends as well.
In the stillness of my mind, I saw the wisdom of being unyielding when necessary. There was strength in standing firm, being a protector, and weathering life’s storms. This strength was not about resistance but resilience, endurance, and remaining steadfast.
As I continued to meditate, the understanding deepened. The wind’s qualities of being dynamic and ever-changing, unpredictable and erratic, powerful and forceful, free-spirited and unconfined were still very much a part of me. But now, I needed to balance these with the earth’s steadfastness and the stone’s unyielding nature.
I realized my journey was not just about connecting with the elements, but about integrating their qualities within myself. The freedom of the wind needed to be balanced with the stability of the earth. The adaptability of water would need to blend with the intensity of fire. Only by embracing all these aspects could I achieve actual Unity and master my mana.
I needed to embrace water’s qualities: adaptable and flexible, persistent and patient, calm yet powerful, nurturing and life-giving, reflective and introspective, cleansing and purifying, mysterious and deep, cyclical and renewable, soothing and healing.
Water’s adaptability and persistence were qualities I admired, but had yet to integrate fully. Spending time near bodies of water, feeling their presence, and observing their movements would help me internalize these traits.
I had always felt a kinship with Fire with its passionate and intense energy, volatility and temperamental nature, vibrant and energetic presence, transformative and purifying power, and consuming and insatiable drive. Yet, I needed to understand its dual nature: warm and comforting in controlled forms, destructive and dangerous when unchecked. Fire’s ability to transform and purify was a powerful metaphor for my own journey of self-discovery and acceptance.
I understood that mastering my mana was a journey of self-discovery, of understanding and accepting every part of myself. It was about finding a balance between the dynamic and the stable, the adaptable and the steadfast, the passionate and the calm. Only then could I truly harness the power of the elements and achieve Unity.
Sitting in partial meditation and examining these realizations one by one gave me a profound sense of peace. I had begun to understand the depth of the journey ahead, the need to embrace all aspects of myself, and integrate the qualities of the elements within. It was a journey that would take time, patience, and introspection. But I was ready. For the first time, I truly grasped what it meant to master my mana. It wasn’t just about power or control, but understanding, acceptance, and balance.
As I rose from my meditation, I felt a new sense of purpose. The journey ahead was clear, and I was ready to embrace it fully. The path to Unity lay within, and I was prepared to walk it step by step, understanding, accepting, and integrating every part of myself along the way.
I felt the telltale signs I was familiar with: the clenching of my being, followed by the unclenching and the wave of energy that followed. It was so strong this time that I felt it might sweep me away. My whole body was buzzing as wave after wave of energy swept through me.
I had strange glimpses of feelings and impressions I couldn’t understand: being a part of a whole? Dissipating and merging and then becoming anew? The breaking of connection and individuality? Those impressions were very dominant and strong, like they took over my entire being, but I couldn’t make sense of them. They felt like things I experienced and went through again and again, but they made little sense.
What the hell?
It also felt like the wave was mending cracks, which was a bizarre sensation. After all, I was a flesh and blood person, not a cracked clay pot. But that’s how it felt: there were cracks in me, and something was restoring them, like the Restore spell. Finally, the wave passed, and I sat there reeling from my realization and from the strange mana wave I had never experienced before. After a few minutes, I shook my head and opened my personal information to check my mana.
10,200/10,200
Huh?!
It didn’t go up, but I felt that something happened; it was unmistakable. I sat there, staring at my mana numbers, my brow furrowed in confusion, trying to understand what had happened. My eyes narrowed, and I bit my lip in frustration, but I couldn’t figure it out.
I looked up at the sky, my expression a mix of pleading and exasperation. “A hint, maybe? A nudge toward answers? Something?” I asked aloud, my voice carrying a note of desperation.
From behind me, I heard Sonak mutter, “Infidels don’t deserve help.”
The annoyance snapped me out of the half-trance I was in. My head whipped around, and I scowled at him. “What are you doing here?” I demanded, my tone sharp.
Sonak crossed his arms, his expression one of mild disdain. “Mahya wants us to practice paintball shooting since we have never shot a gun. I felt the crazy mana you projected all over the place and stopped.” His eyes flickered with curiosity and a hint of concern.
So he felt it, too? I thought, my irritation mingling with curiosity.
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” I said, my voice steadying as I forced a calm expression.
He nodded, his face impassive, then turned on his heels and left, his footsteps echoing softly as he walked away. I watched him go, my mind already shifting back to the puzzle of my mana.
After a few minutes of sitting there, no answers materialized, either from the air or the Guidance. I shook my head and got up. It reminded me of my first days in Shimoor, when I was in the dark about many things and seeking answers. I decided to write to Lis and ask him if he might have insights or at least a book recommendation.
For now, it was time to shoot some paintballs at Sonak.