HP: Spirit Talker

For the first time in my two lives, I wanted to see a psychiatrist... or psychologist? Whatever! I couldn't wrap my head around the simple fact that I was in a movie. Silly thoughts like "fictional world, so I am also fictional and do not live...", "what was before: the book or the world?", "who slept on my bed..." and so on did not occur to me. I think that only a complete fool would torture himself with such things. I know who I am, where I come from, who my real parents are and who failed to become one.

The Matrix is cool, but I don't remember Neo summoning spirits, communicating with gods or traveling between worlds. So screw the "Matrix" theory! The important thing is that my visions can't be interpreted ambiguously, especially since I saw the hint before, but didn't understand it.

It was easy to confirm my assumptions: Indians live in big cities, communicate, read and watch news (by the way, electronics do not work with magic... seriously? really? And TV powered by artifact did not want?), so asking people about topics of interest was easy. I learned that France has an academy for the fine arts of magic called "Beauxbaton", somewhere in Northern Europe there is "Durmstrang", and in Britain — "Hogwarts".

Unfortunately, ordinary Americans have little interest in the news of other countries, so it was difficult to confirm anything exactly. But from the sports news, I thought I was in a movie — in a few months, the Quidditch World Cup would be held in the United Kingdom.

Well, my hopes were not that high. But I didn't have to "suffer and die" for long, because there was a new thought that completely captured me: — What are the characters of the book really like? After turning this thought around and around, I came to the conclusion that I'm really interested in finding out, especially since it's a milestone year, right? Uh-huh.

You don't have to stay in the UK, right? You could go to Beauxbaton and spend a year at Hogwarts with the others, learn everything you want to know, and then run off to the lovely and loving French women. Well, that's an option! What's wrong with France? It has sunny regions, more or less, and the people are not African "lumumbas". Except for the visions. Although it did not say that it is in Britain that I should realize my GREAT and GENERAL GOOD, I'll stay, turn around, and then we'll see ...

***

The Lone Eagle left silently, without a word to anyone, leaving behind only a ritual stone knife-dagger that everyone, including me, considered a gift to me. A few conversations, then a few more, and in four days I was informed that the Big Bosses were very energetically but quietly looking for me. But that didn't stop them from sending their people to all the highways, bus and train stations, and airports. Luckily, "Skillful Hands" easily made contact, did not give up, and agreed to help, although the fee had to be raised.

Three days later the plan for my departure from the USA was ready. Why the Indians even took offense when I talked about payment for their help, I did not fully understand, but decided to give up. On the riverbank I met the group of "Skillful Hands" fighters not alone, but with five other mages and a shaman-shifter.

The route was as follows. We cross the state line and find ourselves in Arizona, admire the Grand Canyon, bypass two powerful power plants on the Colorado River and follow it to Canyonlands National Park in Utah, where we cross the Green River. In Wyoming, we visit Yellowstone National Park, through which we cross into Montana and float down the Missouri River again.

We reach the town of Great Falls and quietly cross the border into Canada. In the town of Ragaina, Skillful Hands closes the deal and leaves. In the company of Canadian Indians, I travel to the seaport of Churchill, where I board a ship for Europe.

It is possible to tell a long story about this epic journey, because we did not hurry too much; if you hurry, you make fun of people. From the outside, we looked like ordinary American tourists passing through, so we didn't attract much attention.

We mingled freely with people in the towns and cities, talking and joking. I even learned to dance, although it wasn't my choice: Lizzie and Meg, two pairs of clinging paws, didn't miss a chance to mock and have fun. Even the frequent sleepovers were livened up with guitar, banjo and Indian flute, so that dancing became an integral part of our tour.

 I'll put my hand on my heart and say it was the most wonderful three weeks of my life, I've never had such a soulful vacation anywhere else in my life. Staying on an island with dragons is not a vacation for me, it is a mental treatment. We laughed a lot, joked, drank, six times we performed an ancient Indian ritual called "Thanksgiving of the Spirits of the Earth" in which everyone participated without exception.

Nothing super complicated and energy consuming, such rituals used to be performed by Indians everywhere during their migrations, but now the people, tribes have greatly reduced and they live sedentary. Therefore, a new tradition has emerged: when Indians travel outside their lands, they perform rituals and ceremonies along the way.

This causes a kind of "shaking" in the spiritual plane, stirring up energies, stimulating the movement of natural currents, which has a good effect on nature. The main requirement for the ritualist is the desire to help and support nature. More is not required, it is enough to strengthen the ritual thought-wish.

Already during this tour I realized that musical instruments are not my thing. They tried to teach me, they really tried, but it was no use. On the other hand, I painted non-stop. While driving, I would sketch in notebooks, accompanied by notes of thoughts and feelings.

And when we stopped, I picked up my brushes. The dry rocks of the Grand Canyon, the yellow sands of sultry Utah, the lush forests and yellow rocks of Yellowstone, the beautiful vistas of the Colorado River and Montana were just emotions. I also painted a few individual (by request) and group portraits — as a memento, since most people also enjoyed the trip immensely.

We ran into some strange magicians pretending to be agents of some kind, but there were no problems — they were not looking for a group of fourteen people. Where on boats, where on rented cars, but we overcame the way without magical movements, although we dabbled in magic. And what to be afraid of when the United States has more than three hundred million people, and gifted in it only officially under a million?

Also, during the trip, I slowly, calmly, with great diligence and ingenuity, created a metal skeleton of my future bodyguard, which I finished in two and a half weeks. I decided not to go any further — I don't want outsiders to see my secrets... at least not more than necessary. We practiced a little wand magic, even had a few simple training duels. All in all, a very different way of spending time.

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