Chapter 1
1087 Words
“Let’s begin by taking a slow breath in… and out.”
Aurelia’s voice was calm and rhythmic, the kind of sound that seemed to untangle knots just by existing. She paused, watching her client’s shoulders rise and fall.
“Notice your body — where it touches the chair, the floor. Let yourself be supported.”
Another pause. The hum of the heater filled the silence.
“Now gently notice any tightness in your body,” she continued. “Let’s start from your feet — press them down slightly, hold, and release. Feel them soften. Now your legs — tighten just a little… and release. Let go through your hands, shoulders, face — a soft melt, breath by breath.”
Her tone softened even further, becoming almost a whisper.
“Imagine you’re sitting by a quiet stream. The air is calm. The ground beneath you feels steady — like you could grow roots into it. Deep, calm, safe.”
The client’s breathing slowed.
“When a thought drifts in, picture it as a leaf floating down the stream,” Aurelia said. “You don’t need to chase it or judge it — just watch it drift past. Another breath… another leaf… You’re the streambank — still and steady.”
She waited a few moments before speaking again.
“Now, imagine a warm light in your chest. It’s calm, steady — like sunlight through leaves. Each breath makes it glow a little brighter, spreading through your body, relaxing you from the inside out.”
Silence settled, peaceful and full. The faintest shimmer of warmth brushed through the room — unseen but felt.
“When you’re ready,” Aurelia said softly, “notice the room around you — the air, the sounds, the support beneath you. Bring that sense of grounded calm with you, like a quiet light you can carry through your day.”
The client sat taller, their breathing easier, their body loosening slightly. A faint light settled over the room, like dust after a storm, shadows around her client scattering briefly.
Aurelia’s watch buzzed softly against her wrist — the quiet reminder that their time was nearly up. She offered her client a warm, steady smile.
“We’re just about finished for today,” she said gently as she stood and walked with her client to the door. “Make sure you carve out some time just for you, and practice our meditation.”
She offered a small wave, her smile warm but edged with fatigue.
When the door clicked shut, the quiet pressed in. Aurelia rubbed her face with both hands, then turned back to her desk. Fingers tapped across the keyboard as she logged today’s notes, neat lines filling the screen.
Paperwork, there’s always paperwork, always something to do.
She stared at the screen blankly for what felt like an hour before her watch buzzed again.
Times up, Aurelia sighed.
She leaned back in her chair, letting her eyes slip shut for just a moment. The room was still — too still. Even the hum of the heater seemed to fade. For a heartbeat, she thought she heard breathing that wasn’t hers.
When she opened her eyes, the shadows along the wall seemed longer than they should have been.
Aurelia closed her laptop, slung her bag over her shoulder, and left the office. On her way out, she detoured into the bathroom.
Tired eyes stared back at her from the mirror. She drew in a long breath, splashed cool water across her face, and whispered to the empty room, “I release what doesn’t belong to me.”
She closed her eyes, imagining a small kernel of soft light — what was left of herself after the day’s work. She cupped it in her mind like a fragile flame.
“It’s still here,” she murmured. “I’m okay.”
Even when the day stripped her bare, a thread of light always endured — quiet, stubborn, hers alone.
Aurelia left the bathroom, a small smile returning to her face. Home time.
She pressed the elevator button and stepped inside.
The chill hit first — a pocket of cold air that didn’t match the warm hallway. A young man stood in the far corner: pale, dark hair falling in disheveled strands, his frame slim and unnervingly still. His eyes met hers and held a steady, unblinking stare that scraped at the edges of polite.
Aurelia kept her polite smile in place, withdrawing her gaze and rubbing her arms against the sudden coolness. She furrowed her brow, tuning in to the faint scent of metal and the low hum of the elevator cables.
Strange. It’s so warm outside.
She gave a small inward shrug. Must be the elevator.
‘Ground floor,’ the familiar robotic voice intoned.
Aurelia stepped out, a prickle running up the back of her neck.
She didn’t look back. Didn’t quicken her pace. Instead, she walked toward the car park with practiced calm, breath even, the way she’d taught a dozen clients.
I need a ward, she thought, the old word surfacing before she could stop it. Something stronger tonight.
Her protection charm — bottled sage, rosemary, basil, thyme, anointment oil, and a bay leaf inscribed with four interlocking loops within a circle — flickered in memory.
Aurelia pressed her thumb to her sternum, a quiet, grounding touch.
I am safe. I am okay. I am not in danger.
Her thoughts flowed in the same calm tone she used with clients.
There’s no tiger out to get me, nervous system.
The silent mantra warmed against her ribs, a soft spark of magic braided with years of therapy, breath work, and hard-won trust in her own intuition.
The air seemed to ease around her; her pulse steadied. The spark settled back into her chest — small but sure.
Feeling more grounded, Aurelia started the drive home. Traffic ebbed and flowed at the usual choke points, headlights sliding like liquid light across her windshield as she let her mind drift.
There was fulfillment in it — easing the pain her clients carried, softening the sharp edges of their stories. Yet every session drained her too, each one demanding pieces of her essence, her heart, her soul.
Still, there was nothing more important than this: making another person feel seen, heard, and that they mattered — that their feelings and experiences mattered.
It was always a delicate balance, holding attunement like a candle flame, protecting it carefully while guiding others toward their own self-discovery.
- Writer
