Mystics

“My job is important. No, it’s more than that, it’s essential. Well, I guess all of our jobs are technically essential, but I do believe that mine is one of the best. Being recruited is rare, most Astrolites are natural born healers, but every now and then the Council makes an exception. I was that exception. My mother worked for the Council, and when she passed it was her dying wish that I become an Astrolite. So, here I am. Sorry, that probably doesn’t even matter, but I just don’t know where to start. I’m new to this whole therapy thing.”

The room was pearly grey, and was rather bland with the exception of a few inspirational posters littering the walls. I sat in the middle of a stiff white sofa, trying to take up as little space as possible. It was almost comical, I felt so confined here. Wasn’t that the whole point of therapy? To feel “comfortable” enough to open up? I felt utterly dead inside. I knew for damn sure that sitting here wasn’t going to fix me. It wouldn’t change what happened or how I feel about it. I had lost the one thing I was supposed to be able to control; my emotions. So here I am, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, trying to block out whatever was being said to me.

Dr. Flickerray was an older, chubby woman. She wore a floral blouse with a light, Easter-green skirt. She had her thin grey hair down and had perfected each curl. Dr. Flickerray shifted in her seat, inhaling deeply before speaking, “Why don’t you start from the beginning? I will pretend I don’t know anything about you or Slyvale. I’m here to help, so don’t feel the need to censor yourself from the situation. We have all day. Okay?”

Yeah, that’s exactly what I needed, to relive it again. How is re-digging the hole supposed to fill the emptiness inside me? Whatever, the Council didn’t give me much of a choice anyway.

I took a deep breath in, closing my eyes and exhaling. Okay, I can do this, right? If I just focused on her terribly bright, pink lipstick maybe I could get through this without sobbing.

“Alright, well, I was 15 when my mother died. I was a year behind the others at the Academy since training started at 14. The professors helped me catch up my first year so that by the time I turned 16, I was right where I needed to be. I didn’t make very many friends at school. I had Kali, but that was about it. She was my bunkmate, and we practically did everything together. Over holidays I would go stay with her family since my father was out of the picture. I made fairly good grades, Kali did as well. We always had this idea that we would graduate and go live in the east part of Slyvale together, working until we found someone special. She was everything I wasn’t. She had this aura of confidence, beautiful sleek black hair and baby blue eyes. Kali always knew what to say, I guess being an empath helped her with that but I still envied her. Kali had two older brothers that became Guardians, I’m assuming that’s why she has always been more outgoing than me. The teasing growing up must have given her tougher skin. In school she stuck up for the both of us. We graduated at 18, and lived out our dream and got a place downtown. It was a cozy little stone cottage, just a block from the square.

Being a Mystic is nothing short of strange, as you know. It’s kind of like being a fairy, minus the wings, and we actually put our talents to use. Guardians are the warriors of Slyvale, they protect the mystic from the Others. The Others are Mystics who turn bad, use their abilities for evil.Mystics are capable of most magic but you usually prevail in one area more than others and that’s what you are sent to specialize in. Specialization in magic ranges from empaths, elementals, mind readers, shadow control to enhanced strength or agility, electricity, the list goes on. Whatever your specialization is, you are trained and put to work. As for me, most of my skill lies in the mind; seeing memories, changing emotions, and hearing thoughts.

The Mystics with elemental abilities are sent to preserve the land. Those with naturistic or animalistic abilities are sent to care for the life that surrounds Our World. Our World is separate from Earth; same planet, different realms. You have to be an Astrolite to have access to the portals to cross over.

So yeah, I was trained in the Academy to be an Astrolite. Our job is to take care of the Broken Ones. They are Normies, non-magical folk, that are unaware of Our World. The Broken Ones are special though, cursed and damaged by the Others. Astrolites clean up any mess that the Others make, a Peter Pan of sorts if you will.

That’s why I think my job is the most important. We take care of the Broken Ones. Watch over them, visit them, try to cure them the best we can. The hardest part is always leaving. You grow connected to them, and they remember you. Thankfully they never talk about Mystics to any other Normies; they’re too scared of judgement. Everyone would call them crazy and lock them up.

This is where my story really begins. Well, actually I suppose it’s where it started to end. I.....I..don’t think I can do this”

I could feel my lungs starting to constrict. The air felt like it was trapped somewhere inside of me, banging on the walls of my chest trying to escape. I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes but I refused to blink. I was wringing my hands over and over again trying to focus on anything other than the panic rising in me.

“It’s alright, just focus on your breathing. In...two...three...four...and out. Good. Now, I didn’t want to suggest this, but I can put you under. We can see for ourselves, so you don’t have to tell me. But you will live through it again in your mind. The choice is yours, Evolet.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, debating. Therapist Mystics suck; going in and taking control of your mind, ironic really for someone like me. I wish I didn’t have to do any of this. However, if she did do it at least I wouldn’t have to sit here and fight off panic attacks every few minutes. If she went in...I would get to see him again. Kiss him again. Love him all over again. Without knowing how the story ends. Without realizing my mistakes before I make them. But then I’d also have to lose him again. Feel the pain all over again. Worst of all, I’d have to wake up. The question hung in the air: was it worth it?

Yes. I wanted to see him again. I realized then that I would do anything for him. Give my life for him. Kill for him.

“Ok.”

“Ok? Let’s get you ready then.”