#potential futures

His sister sat cross-legged outside the entrance of the Spiritwalker’s cave on what had once been lands that had belonged to their mother’s tribe. To their tribe. They might have been few, but the Antelope blood still ran in their blood, mixed as it was. 

He held his mother’s gifts, magic having come easily to him as it had his twin and their half siblings. Their older half-brother, Khod’a, was a talented conjurer, content with his family in Gridania. While the relationship between him and the others was new and still strange given he’d been raised apart from them, he’d been amiable enough to it. Alvin had thrived with the more destructive magics, enjoying the thrill of sword and aether only second to his gun. Mede had proven to be a skilled healer as well, something Alvin never had the patience for himself. 

Their sister though. The statuesque woman terrified him with the strength of the spells she could command, much like their mother had once they’d realized the depth of her knowledge and skill. She’d never once used it against them, but her looks had been deceiving and she’d been scary in her own right. Granted, all three of his mothers had, but it’d kept him safe until he was ready to face the world on his own. 

Out of the four children that A’sana had given birth to, it was only his sister that had taken up the path of keeper for their tribe. She held the soulstone that their mother had worn and was now undergoing the rites to be able to use it’s fullest potential. The toll of the rights was beginning to show itself on the young woman as swatches of silver had worked its way through her otherwise coal black hair and on into the fur of her tail. He knew without looking that her normally brilliant blue eyes were almost quicksilver in hue, shifting between steel-blue and silvery-white with her moods. While their mother had been white of hair and eyes, he’d known that had come at a harsh cost and it made him wonder just what his sister was sacrificing of herself to follow their mother’s footsteps.

“It’s done...for now.” The normally rich alto of the woman was hoarse with thirst and exhaustion. 

Without a word Alvin went to help her to her feet, ever amused that she stood a few inches taller than he did. In that moment, the normally stout woman felt almost frail in his hold and it made him even eager to get her home for rest. Maybe he could convince her to join him on the airship for a few weeks so he could keep a better on her to ensure she took care of herself like she could. 

“Let’s get you home so you can rest. You must be hungry and thirsty.” He spoke gently, thankful the worry he felt didn’t seep through too heavily into his voice. 

A muted nod came from his sister, though it wasn’t until they started walking towards their mounts that she spoke again. “I still can’t hear her, Alvin. I can’t hear mom.”

The thirst for knowledge, the need to know what had happened to their mother drove her, he knew that, but hearing the heartbreak in his sister’s voice hurt him to his soul. He knew if, somewhere out there, A’sana still lived, she didn’t want to be found. Losing her mate’s had broken her and left her a changed woman, not the kind and loving mother they’d know. He didn’t want to find her, didn’t want to know what their mother had become. 

             Even while I was growing up Catholic, I never considered myself a religious, let alone a spiritual, person. During my junior year of college, I was studying abroad in Dublin doing coursework in Philosophy. Accordingly, I was never out of the library for very long. When I did get out, I did as the Dubliners do – played hard in the local pub, told long-winded stories, and stayed up too late. That was how I had been living my life up to that point – dutiful in studies, reckless beyond.

            That spring, I remember waking up to my life. That is what I have started to call it – the moment when I realized how unhappy I was with how I was choosing to live. Whatever we “freak out” about after college, it comes down to, in my experience, one simple question; how are we supposed to live?  Once I asked myself this question, my life started changing all around me. I found myself participating in silent retreats in the forests of Wisconsin, living communally, almost by accident – enriching my life by simplification and a turning inward. I started purposely searching out these spaces.