Ahnia Staliate Nicholia
Ahnia looked around the tent. She didn't see anyone, maybe it'd be safe to do the ritual in the orchestra pit. No one went down there, it looked like this the pit hadn't been used since before they had acquired the tent. She climbed down the entrance ladder and stalked to the middle of the small room. She unfolded the small afghan and spread it on the floor, placing the contents in which she carried with it on top. She sat down, arranging the candles in a semi-circle around her. The votives were all the color of peaches, her mother's favorite. She took a long black match from the box and struck it against the rough edge of it's holder, afterwards keeping the lighter on the wick of the candle. When she had repeated steps on all five votives she blew out the match and closed her eyes, focusing her energy on the aura that loomed in the air. She stayed in the same position for minutes on end, having no luck, so she took another item out of her bra. It was a shining silver locket. It shined like the moon, obviously well polished. Small silver circles were linked in order to form a chain that let the charm rest just above her breasts. The charm was a sliver ornate heart, in which the surface is indented to portray swirls that made Ahnia think of the wind. She placed the trinket on floor facing the northernmost candle, as sometimes it helped to channel spirits when you use an object that is nostalgic to them. She focused her energy again and picked up a familiar aura. She cleared her mind of everything except for that aura, and things that she remembered about her mother. The aura got closer, and brighter, and easier to feel. After a few minutes of concentration she gasped and felt a small prickle within her body. And then the familiar smelt hit her, although it was more of an embrace than a hit. She smiled excitedly, being careful not to loose a hold on her concentration. Mother, I feel you mother... she smiled, but as soon as she did, she knew it wasn't hers. It was her mothers! Yes dear, I know you do... You're as good a medium as I remember..." Ahnia's smiled dropped and instead, a tear trickled down her face, leaving the taste of salt on her lips. Oh... hey.. Don't cry. I don't see you very often and I don't want to make you sad. Ahnia nodded, but her head didn't move, instead she nodded in her spirit. Your.. your dead mother.. She forced the words out, making her tear turn into tears. It was as if saying it made it suddenly real. There were no words, but she knew her mother would have nodded. Yes love, yes I am. And whatever you think, it's not your fault. Ahnia's vision was tinged red at the edges her breaths came at a quicker pace. Mom, it was! I was too slow! If I had drove their faster, you wouldn't have... you wouldn't have.. her sentence trailed off and she felt the trail of tears drying. She felt a soothing hand brushing her hair, but she knew it wasn't there. If you had been there sooner we all would be dead. You've got a wonderful life here, with that nice Ishiah boy. And I know your going to prosper. You've got the Nicholia blood flowing through you veins... And as if her words were a trigger, she felt her pulse shimmer and race. She smiled a smile that she knew was hers. And as soon as her smiled was there, it faded. She could feel the hesitation in her mother's conscience. Mother... what has called for the reluctance? she breathed. Her mother replied, Luna... there is something with her aura. Nothing dangerous but something... wrong... Just be weary around her. Don't assume anything until you absolutely know. Now, I must go my star. Ahnia's body jerked, before she could pull an objection from her mind she felt the absence of her mother's presence. Her eyes snapped open and she was in the dark orchestra pit.
