The mediation room has a peculiar smell, many fragrances burning altogether, mixing and creating a new essence. Candles floating in a calming dance, pillows and colorful carpets, coming from many different realities, are on the floor, covering it all. Walls are made of glass held from golden structures, witnesses of the starry sky that always looks over this room.
A few tiring steps already wore out this new body, I feel it tremble at every movement, and I sit down panting, full of doubts, looking at my mentor.
"It seems like I ran for hours. Are all newborn bodies this weak?" I ask the elderly woman that sits in front of me smiling, her eyes unfathomable.
"Some of them are, Nivahl. The meat hosting you needs a bit more attention than the limbs you usually live in. Its natural cycle's been forced, you must be able to feel it."
I look at the hands, my hands, trying to study every centimeter. They're not elongated and sinuous like Morton's, nor knotty and wise-looking like Auspice's, but small and slightly stocky.
They remind of a child's hands, forced to grow old in a short amount of time. The same could be said of the feet, tiny, as I thought earlier. I touch my new shelter, closing the eyes to feel its composition better, listening to the new words of the elderly.
"This frail condition will vanish in a few hours, but not completely. As long as you'll live in this body you'll need to take some cures to not let it crumble on itself."
Your essence is strong though, it can compensate for some imbalances if you concentrate. You can take some more time to study yourself and make some imperfections a bit better."
I try to stay focused, but I'm curious by nature and I can't keep my mind free from all the questions crowding it.
"Where's Morton? They're usually the one looking for the right case for me. Was it necessary to create a fully new one, forcing its growth enough to cause some damage?"
"You'll get to ask them when they'll get here. Focus now my little Echo"
Giving a forced end to our exchange, slightly entertained, Auspice gets up and leaves the room with slow, soft steps.
I stay here with my doubts, in the warmth and smell of the room around me. Even though it seems some small needles are piercing me, I take deep breaths trying to keep my mind on myself. With my fingers, I brush against my warm skin, looking for new things to repair.
A pulled muscle, a malformed nerve, a way too thin vein. I sort out everything, regenerate, recreate, modify.
Therapy knowledge always fascinated me, knowing how to fix the living and pulsating matter is my calling. Not only what's visible needs restoration. The vital spirit, the soul, as it's usually called, creases too.
It can be wounded, lacerated, it can even "bleed". Therefore my researches cover even that area, soul tending practices so that I can help every creature in its whole.
As my body regenerates, I feel a slight itching along my whole spinal column and a half-smile appears on my lips. The smell of opium and bath essential oils enters from the door, along with the vibrating presence of an ancient and mocking soul, and the taste of incense and spicy blood.
I wait with closed eyes, I hear them lowering the handle and go beyond the door in their rebel splendour, and before they can say a word I grab a pillow next to me and throw it on their marvellous androgynous face.
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