HP: Spirit Talker

Due to the delay, I arrived at the turnoff to the Indian reservation much later than the agreed upon time. Getting there wasn't a problem — I'd seen the route on the map. Just off the highway, about ten yards away, were two wooden posts with nailed skulls of animals, birds, and snakes. I took a notebook and started writing a letter.

No tearful complaints, just a respectful apology for the inconvenience and a request not to cancel the meeting, but to postpone it to a more convenient time.

 After rereading it and making sure it was good, I put some hieroglyphics and geometric shapes on the back of the sheet. The little ghost himself dives into the print, and the sheet of paper folds into a bird in an instant, then flies away. Now we wait.

I felt a strange shudder through my sleep and woke up. I blinked sleepily for a few seconds, trying to figure out the reason for the awakening, and then I turned my head towards the "gate". A big wolf was standing on the road, the size of a bear I'd never seen before! Silver fur with red undercoat, a long black scar on the snout, the paws, the croup, and the tail partially bitten off.

What a veteran! Looking at it, I felt the shiver that woke me up again, but this time I realized what it was. I have no idea how, but this "wolf" creates "ripples", "waves" in the astral, which makes my hypersensitivity feel a tremor in the magical field. I had never heard of such a thing being possible. I get out of the car and walk towards the creature. I wonder what it is? It's a strange place: vast empty spaces, a long deserted road, no wind, silence, in which the footsteps on the dirt road are clearly audible.

Not a very pleasant atmosphere, reminiscent of a post-apocalypse. The wolf followed me all the way, frozen like a statue, and when I stopped ten paces from him, the beast halved the distance. It studied my face for a few seconds, and then the "explanation" of my last question happened.

The wolf crouched sharply, began to shrink, its fur crumbled with sparks, and somehow, imperceptibly, although everything was happening before my eyes, it turned into a man in a very harmonious way. No less colorful, it should be noted. Sand-colored moccasins, leather pants with lacing on the sides, a braided belt with various amulets, a leather vest on the naked body, opening a view of strong relief muscles.

Around her neck is a wide braided collar and a pair of amulets on leather laces. Her long black hair with gray streaks is gathered into two braids with laces, feathers and amulets woven into it, and a ribbon with two long feathers crosses her forehead.

A long knife and a tamagawk hang from his belt, lovingly decorated with patterns and laces with various amulets. The magic emanating from him is so strong that it feels like standing in front of a chest full of artifacts. His steel wolf eyes look firm and confident, and his scars only confirm his right to look that way.

— You smell of blood and sorcery. — His voice was a little harsh, a little hoarse.

— I was attacked, so I was too late. There was a black wizard among them

— What happened to them?

— Four of them are dead, the rest have been severely punished.

There was silence for a few seconds. The Shifter lifted his head slightly and turned his nose like an animal, sniffing for something. I didn't dampen my powers, but I couldn't sense anything foreign.

— White. — The Indian finally nodded. — Why is the wizard alive? — The mage frowned slightly, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows.

— A trophy. The second.

— The right to booty is sacred. — The Indian nodded, wiping the emotion from his face. — In that case, I, Kakannivi, son of Keruk, invite you, son of the Celestial Tribe, to be our guest. — In a beautiful gesture, the man placed his palm on his chest and led him to the gate.

— Hoshino Sora, it is a pleasure to meet you. — I bow respectfully in my own way. — May I take the car?

— Sure. — The driver nodded. — However, it is necessary to divert other people's attention. ....

With these words, the Indian crouched down and swept his palm over the ground, humming softly, then stood up and scattered the collected dust into the sharply rising wind. Small particles flashed gray sparks and disappeared, and a hare, well, or a rabbit — I do not distinguish them much — appeared at the Indian's feet. The Indian lifted the long-eared animal in his arms, whispered something in its ear, and then let it fall to the ground. The beast, though more like a manifested spirit, took off and raced across the asphalt of the road, leaving a strange magical shudder in its wake.

— It will leave a false trail, and the pursuers will not know that you have come to us. Now let's go, dinner's coming. — And silently, calmly, I took the driver's seat, I did not argue, and sat down on the seat next to him.

***

It was a typical town like you often see in American movies: provincial houses, quiet streets and so on. The only difference was that it was divided into sectors. The settlement was designed for long-term confrontation, like a fortress with concentric walls.

Sectors were divided into different tribes, but there were no walls between them, the difference was hidden in various decorations, such as railings, stairs, windows, roof ridges and rare totem poles near the houses.

The special places for bonfires were also interesting — I didn't get too close to them, but from forty meters away I felt as if I had already entered the spirit world, and the magic became physically tangible, even if I was making snowballs. I waved my hand in the air to try it out, and a wisp of trembling air, like pure water, remained behind my palm.

I felt that I had to do something, but I didn't understand what it was. I thoughtfully took an apple from my pocket and began to crunch it while looking around.

By the way, I don't know what kind, but the fruit was very much to my taste: sweet and sour, very juicy but firm, with a red skin. Turning my head and looking around with a new look, I realized that I had aroused at least some interest, but the settlement itself I did not like very much.

Everything is in sandy colors, a lot of dust, dry air, almost no green, one word — wasteland, dry steppe, or what is it called? I don't feel well here, I'm used to green, to life, to the smell of grass and flowers. Only I formed this thought, my legs carried me forward. The girl who accompanied me watched in silence and did not interfere, I did not pay attention to her — a strange impulse took me over. For several minutes I walked from side to side, listening, smelling, trying to find an answer, until it appeared.

I touched the talisman on my chest and the spirit of the earth immediately began to realize my idea — just to share the magic in time. Nothing happened for a minute. Then, a few steps away, the sandy ground rustled, and a boulder the size of a soccer ball rolled out, and again and again — in different places, stones came out of the ground, rolled closer, and gathered in a pile.

When we had counted enough stones, the earth moved a step away from me again, only this time it formed a circular pit, twenty meters in diameter, with a funnel in the center. The center of the funnel and the walls began to be covered with stones, the cobblestones interlocking tightly.

 When everything was over, I went down to the center of the funnel, which turned out to be two meters deep, although everywhere else the depth was no more than one meter. I knelt down and began spewing magic out of myself, gathering it in a spiral pipe that went deep down.

I thought only of the water, its coolness, its power to carry life, and noticed that my magic had turned a deep blue color. After a few minutes, a steady spring began to gush from the center of the funnel: the water had been magically raised from somewhere deep, but the magic, thanks to the local saturated background, had taken hold without dissipating, becoming something permanent. He dug a small hole on the bank of the spring-fed pond, put the stump in it, filled it in, and laid his palm on it.

The magic of plants and life is not an easy thing, you need concentration, understanding of what you want and how, and also control of the flow of magic. Here everything was easier: my thoughts and images immediately began to materialize in the form of the rapid growth of a young apple tree.

For about twenty minutes I sat with my eyes closed, visualizing what I wanted and how it should look. I opened my eyes and found myself in the shade of a large, spreading, but not too tall, apple tree with a wide trunk and many flowers.

I wanted the tree to be more than a simple tree, so that the leaves would not burn in the sun, so that the excessive moisture of the pond would not affect the plant, so that the tree would bloom two or three times a year. After examining the work of his hands, I was satisfied and somehow my heart felt lighter.

I sat down on the rough young grass, calmed down, and for a long time I just listened to the rustling of the leaves, enjoyed the coolness of the pond, which now will always be the same temperature, inhaled the smell of fresh grass. I felt many people come in, most stayed, some left. I felt a few more people sitting on the grass around the lake, but all were silent or whispering softly, which did not destroy the idyll that had formed.

One of the men sat down at arm's length from me, and from him ... no, from her came the strange smells of many plants, flowers, damp earth and hot stone. Her magical power seemed somehow strange, fuzzy, but not weak. It was as if her magic left the spiritual plane and immediately returned, imbued with something different, something inhuman.

— Long ago, this land was covered with meadows of lush grass, where herds of animals and flocks of birds roamed. Life bubbled and blossomed. Do you know why there is sand and dust everywhere, child of the land of the rising sun? — I was silent, I did not move, but the girl did not need questions or answers, for she was the mistress here and knew everything in her lands. — After claiming these lands, people have long supported their spirits with rituals and the fulfillment of eternal laws. The Great Spirits watched over life, patronized it, and protected their people from trouble. This land breathed harmony and prosperity. — A short pause. — But the people were destroyed. There are not enough left to revive the old rites, and I do not want the Great Blood, and I will not tolerate blood-stained altars. — he said in his once soft, rustling voice, the growl of a beast. — The Great Goddess of Spring, the Elder Sister Spirit, greets you, come from beyond. — Solemnly

I turned my head to see a young and very pretty girl in her early twenties, as if she had stepped out of a picture book of American history. In the traditional dress of an adult Indian girl, black-haired but green-eyed, with two braids and feathers in them, with a beautiful hunting knife and tomahawk on her belt.

— It's a pleasure to meet the Elder Spirit, it's an honor. — I bow respectfully. — I didn't know that humans were so deeply connected to nature. — I look at the Goddess or the Elder Spirit as they are essentially the same.

— It is unfortunate to know that the old rules are fading away and new misconceptions are taking over. — The girl grinned bitterly and looked at the water. — When a man calls the land his own, he takes responsibility for the rituals and festivals of the changing seasons, for helping the Elder Spirits and the Younger Spirits to rule and maintain order. — Short pause. — Everything in the world is connected, you can't just forget about responsibility when you lay claim to something. — I nodded in agreement.

That makes sense. — Cause and effect, the law of boomerangs, Murphy's Law. Even ordinary people realized a long time ago that even if you turn a blind eye to something, try to ignore it, it doesn't go away by itself. It's like a pendulum: even if you turn away from a swinging kettlebell, you can't stop it from stabbing you in the back.

— The Lone Eagle is on his way here — I called him. — the spirit spoke again. — He will answer your questions. I must go now. But before I go... — the girl smiled broadly and turned to the pond.

Gathering air in her chest, the Spirit exhaled slowly and carefully. Small streams stretched from the pond to the different sides of the city, the bottoms of which were immediately reinforced with pebbles and the edges were covered with green grass. The pond was filled with water plants, some red and orange lilies, and small and medium-sized fish of wild colors.

One edge of the lake overflowed and became a small swamp, where dense thickets of yellow iris and snow-white flowers of the white-winged lily of the valley, with a bright yellow center, exploded in green. On the opposite bank grew a low, spreading tree with broad roots, in whose branches small birds immediately began to rustle, and in the deep bark began to flicker blue and green lights of little ghosts.

— Nature does not like emptiness. — The Spirit spoke softly, dipping her chiseled palm into the cool water. — If she can't do it alone, help her, give her a push. — Her voice made my heart freeze and everything in me shrank from the amount of love the Spirit put into her words. — And you will see her blossoming with all the colors of life, generously sharing her riches with those in need... — the girl moved her fingers, stroking the scales of the fish that swam up to her. — Dead spirits cannot come back to life, but new ones can be born ... — The girl smiled again, looking at the blossoming flower of life, and melted like a ghost under a gust of wind.

***

Duh couldn't help but smile, couldn't take her eyes off that newborn speck of life. How many small and tiny sparks of life would find a home here, and how many new ones would be born here! The young mage has no idea what his impulse will lead to! No idea of the consequences!

The spirit looked at the big apple tree, which would be huge in twenty years. She immediately sensed what was happening in this place, and her heart welcomed with joy and maternal warmth the birth of a little dryad, the likes of which had never been seen in these lands.

Strong magic, powerful magic, tinged with spiritual power and intelligent desire, gave birth to a young spirit, a tiny dryad. And as if that were not enough, the Forest Spirit, the Spirit of the Movement of Life, found herself endowed with the gift of fire and water, something that had never been possible before. The Elder Spirit had already seen the fate of the newborn girl.

Dreamily closing her eyes, the Spirit saw the dusty wasteland fill with the life of a sacred forest year after year, with the house of the Mistress Guardian of the sacred waters of the new place of power whispering with foliage and ringing with color. Spirit even smelled the scents of the herbs and flowers that would color the dry sands. She heard the voices of the birds and animals living and breeding new life in the reborn lands.

 She heard new songs around the shamans' campfires, the beat of their tambourines, the laughter of their children playing with beautiful horses. The spirit opened her eyes, sparkling with joy and pleasure, and felt that from now on the young spirits she had born in the tree would be reborn as young dryads, mastering the magic of life and water, and would settle in the new forest, living in peace and alliance with the humans here.

The humans would protect the young girls from the evils of the white men while they were weak, but after that.... Oh no, she had not made the same mistakes: her girls would be able to defend themselves, this forest would stand for millennia! The ghost looked at the brooding mage.

 So many waiting for his help... so many plans... well, the boy deserved a little help. Yes, her family had never been known for greed, so the payment would be generous! The ghost exhaled, watching as a light breeze ruffled the mage's hair, watching as a blue spark soaked into the wooden amulet in which the young ghost slept. Yes, the girl would make a good mistress.

The second spark, orange and red, was absorbed into the stone from which the Earth Spirit looks out upon the world. Every house needs a protector, and who could be stronger than the Spirit of the Earth, who has learned the heat of its depths? The spirit stroked the mage's hair weightlessly and smiled fondly. She liked this Spirit Talker, and since he had chosen such an unexpected path, she and the others would be interested to see what he would come up with.

Like it ? +100 Chapters on Patreon!
www.patreon.com/molakar