A short story, by M. W. Bennett
This is the last of the Bardiché Trials to become a Kairu Mystic. Trepidation boils to the surface of my flesh. It is the only undertaking thus far in which I have little to no control over the outcome. I’d been through so many Invictus moments to this point, so many daunting trials. I've survived the deep dive into the shadowy depths of the Solé Ocean to find the Black Onyx, the tussle with the brown Jabbalassi, the voiceless riddles from Moko Jumbi’s steel pan notes, and finally, Poppa Boah’s shapeshifting mind games. All the uncomfortable and painful undertakings led to this point. Either the ancestors will find me worthy, or they won’t. I relinquish the burden of worry to the universe.
It is still a mystery why the elders gave me a crystal orb to carry. Though no bigger than a melon, the weight is beginning to take its toll. Much heavier than it looks, the sphere plays its part in adding to my afflictions. Its glossy surface, makes it more difficult to grip, and the contradiction of my cold fingers, yet sweaty palms add another level of toil. The elders’ forced me to strip naked in this icy cave to ensure I do not smuggle any gems I may find here.
My eyes are beginning to adjust to the darkness now. The gravel beneath my bare feet is cold, coarse, and sharp at times. I must push forward. The smell of rotting flesh fills my nostrils, making it difficult to catch my breath. I can’t quite make out the animals that lost their lives here, but judging from the size of the still corpses, I would guess dogs. There’s meaning to that as well. I just don’t know what, yet. I try to fight the shivering, but the continuous gush from the shafts forces my naked body to betray me. Think warmth.
Hours into the Wudu Hollow, my pulse starts to quicken. Of all the Sona initiates who have tried, I’m the first to make it this far. Despite my sore arms, scared feet, and aching back, I pray to the universe that I am able to make my people proud.
I step downward, stumbling a bit, into another underpass. The sphere nearly slips from my grip. I shudder at the thought of shattering it at this stage of the trials. All would be lost.
The warmth, emanating from the channel ahead fills me with gratification and hope. What awaits me, beyond this dwelling of shaded gloom? I lower my head, narrowly fitting in the smaller cavity. I enter. My vision is now unabridged. The surface beneath my feet is now leveled and temperate. My body is warmed.
Unexpectedly, the sphere quivers ever so slightly in my grasp. At least I think it does. I can’t tell what’s real or what is a mere fabrication from my mind. The chamber is circular. The end of the line, it seems. The grotto’s walls are covered in hand-carved hieroglyphics of some kind. I can make out some of it, from my studies. But the rest is from an older, more ancient form of Bardiché language. Squinting, I’m able to translate a portion of the symbols.
“Path To Universal Enlightenment”, it reads, with an arrow pointing to a small depression on the ground at the center of the room. It appears to be the same size as the sphere. It feels as though the sphere is pulling me to the depression. I don’t fight it.
I kneel before it, placing the orb into the indentation. It fits perfectly. Somehow, I did not doubt that it would. I wait. Nothing happens. I scan the cave for a sign or clue to what is supposed to happen next. Nothing. Frustration boils over.
“What am I to do?” I scream to an empty room but directing it to the elders. “What is it, you seek from me?” I know they can’t hear me, but I needed to release that. Or maybe they can hear me. The Bardiché are known for their advanced artistic expression in Bea’Yah Mystics; art that grants telepathic abilities to hear the screams of mad man, deep within the bowels of the hollows.
Stay calm, I tell myself. Breathe. There will be no assistance or aid coming for you. To maintain my sanity, I force stillness, silence, composure, and serenity into my being. Inhale, hold for four counts, hold it for seven, then exhale for eight. Freedom, God, and Build. I perform 4-7-8 mindful breathing techniques with four repetitions.
“My spirit is tranquil.
My mind is brilliant.
My body is healthy and whole.
I am the master of my fate.
I create my own path,
Guided by my heart and soul.”
Repeating this mantra, I lightly touch the sphere with both hands, focusing my consciousness on it. I had no idea why I’m doing it. I just do it. Abruptly, it begins to judder. There’s a hum, radiating from it, filling the room, becoming louder and louder. Then, what was once a dark cave-like, room, is now illuminated by a bright green light, arising from the sphere.
“What does this mean?”
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