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Muladhara (Ch. 8)

Chapter 8: The Root

By Sweet NothingsPublished 5 years ago Updated about a year ago 5 min read
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"And remember, no matter where you go, there you are."  ~Confucius

The door moaned as it opened into the lifeless one-story home. The woman I had met a few months earlier, Tilly, now dragged her head in defeat.

I grabbed the note from the door and followed her inside.

"Cantu-Dante," I read aloud while Tilly stumbled to the couch. "Cantu is Dante!" It was as if the realization was hitting me for the first time. "He must have known I was getting close. He knew Amaranth was going to help me power the stone," I thought to myself, aloud. I knew that with the help of my Shaman, we could finally end this bitter war.

Tilly sat still as a mannequin, her face flushed white with terror. "I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd find me in Angele Emerald," she said.

"Dammit, you're worse than your daughter," I replied.

"Dante is a great nemesis of humanity that my shaman has been fighting for a long time. When she found me, she said there was a war coming and she needed a-- key," I explained. "And I'm pretty sure the emerald is the key to ending this."

"--If we can get the Emerald I left at your house, we can go back to Adenvale and then find my Shaman--" Tilly quickly interrupted me.

"It will not work," she said.

"But it's rumored that Dante fears the power of this stone above all else and I don't know why! If my shaman can just get the stone," I pleaded.

"No!" she exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes. "It will not work because your emerald is a fake."

Tilly pulled out a necklace from under her blouse that read 'AMARANTH' in rose gold, in an archaic font. "Ammie's dad made me get it when we selected what to call her," she said.

But, I took notice of a different piece of jewelry-- something catching my eye. A wedding band on her finger, a diamond-crusted leviathan sitting atop a rose gold band. "Your husband?" I asked.

"Agustin," her voice softened at the mention of her beloved.

"How'd you two meet?" I asked, curious.

"Many years before Ammie was born," she began, pausing briefly to hold back tears. "Agustin was a priest in Los Angeles; the town's official name before Intellectualism took the world by storm, and the town grew further in seclusion."

"So you're like... old? No offense," I said, letting out a warm laugh.

She scoffed, but I could finally see her eyes smiling again. "None taken. I am way older than you may think. Time is a manipulatable construct. But I have lived through many human tragedies," she said.

"So you're like my Shaman? She says there are some people who kinda look like people, but they're not people. Do you know what I mean? Like, they're PEOPLE -- but not PEOPLE, people. Am I making sense?" I asked.

"In a way, yes," she responded, looking at me skeptically. "Yes to both questions."

"Is Agustin like you and your Shaman?"

"No, Agustin is a PEOPLE people," she replied with a chuckle. "His soul is so pure."

I felt even worse now than I did before. "I'm so sorry," I said, drawing my attention back to her necklace. "But the villager I bought the stone from knew things about Dante, shaman, about--"

"Dante's tricks, I'm presuming," she interjected.

"What was blocking my Sahasrara then? I didn't feel it until I touched the outskirts of town. And how did he know I would be seeking the stone?"

She sighed deeply and walked drunkenly over to a regal midnight blue staircase that led to a more luxurious second floor. "Dante is a clever trickster," she said.

"My Shaman said Dante is caged though. Imprisoned by the Divine herself," I added.

"What do you know of his punishment?" she asked.

"Not much honestly," I replied.

"The only important thing to know is that Dante has been trying to break free since before he was placed in his chains," she explained.

She took a long breath and stood up. "I am sorry you were brought into this. Your Shaman is right about one thing, we are headed into a battle. But we may be able to end it before it begins," she said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"If he took my daughter, it is because he thinks she has her half of the stone. That has to be his play," she replied.

"Why would he need the stone? I thought the stone would destroy him," I questioned.

"The prophecy reads the crystal is the key," she said, walking slowly over to a wardrobe on the other side of the staircase and opening it wide. Inside the finished oak doors, there was a swirling red vortex. It looked like a small controlled black hole.

She fidgeted with her necklace.

"I've had the key forever it seems. But, Agustin and I came searching for this place when Amaranth was a girl. I don't know what Dante would do if he were to escape, but I knew I couldn't let that happen. Once we found this place we built a home around it and swore our life to protect it from any of Dante's followers," she explained.

"You chose to stay?! Why not return to your earthly bodies to let Amaranth know the plan? Why not visit her at least and tell her any of this? You abandoned her?!" I exclaimed, my mind flashing with memories of my own mother and father.

"It was for more than just her protection! Sometimes parenting is the best of only bad options," she replied, her voice choked with tears. But her aura was glowing a bright scarlet red. "You're right, though. I've let him keep my family broken for too long," she admitted.

Ripping the stone from her necklace, she broke the necklace off of her neck. Her stone looked as if it was being grabbed and swallowed by the vortex of energy inside the wardrobe.

"You don't have to join if you don't want to. You've already lost so much. This was never your fight," she said, looking back at me with one foot inside of the wardrobe.

"No. I've been on the sidelines waiting for too long. This needs to end tonight," I answered. "Hang on Amaranth, we're coming."

science fiction
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About the Creator

Sweet Nothings

Alias Duece Lee Vizzini III

Now, Sweet Nothings, my blog is a sanctuary for love notes and human emotion. Each post is a step toward telling my own intricate, beautifully imperfect story.

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