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I let myself be one with the surrounding elements. I slowly caress Seer’s worn-out leather wristwatch, muttering the ancient chant taught to me by my mother and her mother before her. This is a sacred ritual passed down from generations of the Cromwell women.
I let Seer occupy my mind, harnessing his connection to the watch I hold in my hand. I can feel his soul’s energy getting stronger. The heat surges, and I hear a loud echoing sound, like water droplets amidst an incoherent chatter. I’m getting closer. Slowly, I follow the sound and focus on it until it becomes a distant echo, and suddenly I’m surrounded by little shiny bubbles, his soul’s memories.
This is it, Seer’s soul territory.
I wonder which memory would unfold if I touched any of the bubbles… would it be a good or bad one? I always avoid going close to people's memories in the soul territory unless absolutely necessary. A traumatic memory could be disastrous to the soul searcher — fatal even, especially for someone as weak as Seer. I walk deeper into his soul's territory, avoiding the memory bubbles.
“Seer?”
My voice echoes like a thousand overlapping waves within Seer’s soul. Suddenly, I feel overwhelmed by a wave of loneliness, anxiety, and fear. It’s not uncommon for the soul searcher to be plagued by the soul’s most dominant feelings, but Seer’s feelings are especially overwhelming. It’s like his past emotions are overlapping the present. I’m unexpectedly seized by a tremendous gust of pain, raw… almost indescribable. Stagger slightly, I’m swamped by the intensity of Seer’s emotions. My fingers connect with a memory bubble as I reach out to steady myself. I gasp softly as the popping sound reverberates through the abyss. I only have a split second to acknowledge my mistake before I’m thrown into a random memory.
You killed him!
The image of a stern-faced man with striking blue eyes appears with the voice but quickly fades away, replaced by that of a gorgeous elderly woman in a sophisticated floral dress.
He’s your brother, Gerald!
The sonorous voice must belong to the beautiful woman.
Did you hear the vision?
The images have faded, but I can easily associate the terrifyingly deep voice with the stern-faced man called Gerald.
And so? You had to send your own teenage son to kill your brother!
The soul’s abyss lightens up once more with the image of a beautiful young boy pressed flat against a wall. He seems strangely familiar… Seer? It’s definitely him, but much younger.
His shocked gasp echoes and fades into the darkness with the image of him.
You killed him because of the vision? You’re insane, Gerald.
The sonorous voice echoes again, more upset this time.
You’ll not talk to me like that, woman!
The image of the younger Seer pops up again. He’s running this time down an unfamiliar road, the sound of his heavy breathing bouncing off the walls of his subconscious.
“Seer?”
Before I know it, I begin to run after him. I have to speak to him.
“Seer? Wait up.”
Suddenly, the image of him disappears along with the echoes, and the darkness becomes ordinary.
I open my eyes slowly to Pocus’s expectant green ones.
“What happened?” he asks anxiously. “Did you speak to him?”
“I can’t seem to connect with him.”Instead, I accidentally poked at a wound from his past. “He’s lost beneath all the memories from his past and the turbulent emotions of his present.”
Pocus’s expression falls. “Damn,” he mutters to himself, brushing his fingers through his hair in an obvious display of distress.
“I’ll try again,” I say solemnly.
I guess I’ll just have to keep running until I catch up with him.
CHAPTERSEVEN
