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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2303947-The-23-Enigma
Rated: E · Short Story · Mystery · #2303947
For the Writer's Cramp. Dreams and Visions under a full moon on the 23rd day of the month.
It is the 23rd day of the 23rd month since I began my training. It is also the night of the full moon.

They dress me in white robes, they comb and braid my hair. They paint my face paler than it already is and then add dark streaks of charcoal, smeared in lines across my cheeks, swiped into the hollows under my eyes.

They make my face a mask that the spirits will be more likely to talk to. It is what is believed.

I do not speak during the preparations. I have not spoken for a week. I may speak after, of what I’ve seen. Or I may choose to keep my silence. That is my right.

They take me to the pool. It is a natural construct, perfectly hollowed out by the hot spring. They leave me at the water’s edge and I sit still and quiet while the sun sets and the moon rises, hanging heavy in the sky.

I am to be gifted with 23 visions, if the teachers are to be believed. I cannot see myself in this water, it is a dark hollow even in the light of the moon. As I watch the surface turns silvery, the water fills with smoke.

This is the most difficult part of this magic. Just as it begins I must keep still and steady, not allow the excitement or anticipation take over. If I do, the smoke will fade away to nothingness and then keep its secrets. This has been my training.

I am shown much. And nothing at all. Shadows and half formed images and things that could come to pass . . . Or may not. I sit for long moments committing each moment to memory, for study and to dream about later where sometimes the meanings will become more clear.

One image is clearer than the rest as I bring it back to mind. My falcon, Adelaide, taking flight, the skies she flies are filled with a choking smoke and she cannot see her way out. She flies in circles and does not land.

A deep exhaustion settles into my bones and I lay down at the water’s edge. I sleep. There are no dreams.

My teacher wakes me in the morning. He does not speak. He waits. He gives me food and water and I use this process of eating and drinking to bring myself wholly back from the night and that land of visions.

When I do speak it is to say this, “It is a mystery to me, how we can feel that we know so much and also feel that we know so little.”

My teacher says, “Everything is mysterious. Everything is deeper than it appears. Like this pool, there is no way to know how deep it goes, only to know that if you went in your feet would not touch the ground.”

I study the smooth surface. “Why do we do this then? Why come here for the visions if there are no answers?”

“That is the lesson. We don’t come here for answers. We come here to find the right questions. You see?”

I think of the falcon, how she cannot see, how she does not know where to land. I know this restless feeling, this inability to settle at times,to be stuck even if I could fly away. I had no answer for why I felt this way but now I knew that it was important for me to look, to begin to solve this mystery of myself.

“I see.”

Prompt

Author's Note
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