Chapter 34: Callings
1400 Words
The fire in Granny’s hearth cracked low, casting deep shadows that danced like spirits against the walls. Waiya sat on the floor in front of her, legs crossed, palms open, breathing slow. Her tattoos hummed faintly under the surface of her skin — not glowing, not yet — but warm, like they were listening.
Granny sipped from a mug that smelled of tobacco, cedar, and something older. “You tryin’ too hard,” she said flatly.
“I’m just… stuck.”
Granny’s chuckle was dry, almost fond. “Child, stuck is just what the cocoon feels like before wings.”
Waiya exhaled, frustrated. “Then why does it feel like I’m suffocatin’ in mine?”
Granny leaned forward, tapping the center of Waiya’s chest with a calloused finger. “’Cause you still scared to crack open the part of you that’s angry. The part that knows. You wanna be healed without getting messy first.”
Waiya’s jaw flexed, throat tight.
Before she could respond, a knock came from the outer room — two sharp raps. Then a familiar voice called, “Waiya?”
Lilly.
Waiya stood, brushing ash from her skirt, and moved to the door. Lilly’s face was pinched, worry settling in the corners of her mouth.
“You got a minute?” she asked.
“Yeah. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Kaia.”
Waiya’s heart tightened. “What about her?”
“She came to me. Said she’s been dreamin’ again. Visions. One of them… she drew it. I’ll show you. But she came lookin’ for you first, like you told her. Said she ain’t been able to sleep. Somethin’s followin’ her.”
Waiya stilled, then nodded. “I’ll go to her.”
⸻
Later That Day — The Classroom
It took some convincing, but Waiya agreed to hold a one-time session. Just a check-in. Nothing deep, she told herself. Just to guide Kaia. Just to keep her safe.
But the moment she stepped back into that classroom — empty now, save for the altar and the faint scent of cedar that clung like memory — her spirit stirred.
Kaia was already there, seated cross-legged with her back straight and her eyes half-closed. She looked… older somehow. Or maybe just more worn.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” Kaia whispered. “He came into my dream again. But this time… I wasn’t asleep.”
Waiya knelt beside her. “You did the right thing. Tell me what you saw.”
Kaia swallowed. “A door. My name scratched into it. And hands — too many hands. I couldn’t breathe. But he was there. That man. The one who smiled like he already owned me.”
Waiya’s spine chilled. “Donquavious.”
Kaia nodded slowly.
Before Waiya could respond, the door to the classroom creaked open behind them.
She turned.
He stood in the doorway like he belonged there — tall, dressed clean, smelling faintly of frankincense and blood. His smile was smooth, his eyes too bright.
“Afternoon, ladies.”
Kaia flinched.
Waiya stood fast, positioning herself slightly in front of Kaia. “You ain’t welcome here.”
Donquavious tilted his head, stepping inside anyway. “Just checkin’ in on old friends.”
“You don’t have friends here. Leave.”
His gaze dropped to Kaia, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “She’s gifted, you know. She calls without even meaning to. I only answered.”
“You forced your way in.”
He stepped closer. Too close. The air in the room thickened, heat pulsing behind Waiya’s eyes.
“Careful,” he murmured, “you radiate like a dying star when you mad.”
Waiya reached for her satchel — for salt, for iron, for anything — but Donquavious moved fast. One hand reached out, brushing a strand of her braid behind her ear.
“Don’t,” she said sharply.
He leaned in just enough for his breath to touch her skin. “You used to be more fun.”
She grabbed his wrist before it could fall lower, her grip iron-tight. The energy between them surged — a spark of rage, power, and something that had once bordered on kinship but now twisted into poison.
“You step foot in my circle again,” she growled, “and I’ll burn the spirit outta your body, inch by inch.”
He smiled like it excited him.
“Still a flame under all that discipline,” he said, and pulled back.
To Kaia, he added gently, “I’ll see you again, sweetheart. Just keep dreamin’.”
And then he vanished — not out the door, but into shadow, his form peeling away into smoke.
Kaia burst into tears.
Waiya held her tight, fury shaking her hands.
She wasn’t ready for this war.
But it was already here.
Justin’s POV
The house was quieter than it had been in days.
Justin sat on the back porch, sharpening his blade — not because he needed to, but because the rhythm of metal on stone kept his hands busy and his thoughts from wandering too far into worry. He felt Waiya’s energy spike earlier. Heat. Power. Fear. It had crept into his bones like smoke through floorboards.
He hadn’t seen her since this morning, and that alone had his chest tightening.
“You waitin’ for her?”
The voice came from behind him — soft, sharp, and laced with more judgment than curiosity.
He turned slowly. Waiya’s mother stood at the screen door, arms folded across her chest, eyes like daggers carved from obsidian. She looked like Waiya, if time and sorrow had sanded down the fire.
Justin gave a slow nod. “She with a student right now.”
“I know,” the woman said. “Kaia. The girl’s been dreamin’ too deep.”
He studied her carefully. “You keep tabs on all that?”
“I don’t need to. The wind speaks. The birds don’t lie. And that girl showed up talkin’ ’bout hands scratchin’ through her mind.”
Justin put the blade down. “You here to check on Waiya or to test me?”
A smirk tugged at her mouth, brief and brittle. “Maybe both.”
She stepped out onto the porch, the wood creaking under her weight, but her presence didn’t falter. She moved like someone who’d danced with spirits and came back scarred but standing.
“You care for her?” she asked plainly.
Justin didn’t blink. “Yes.”
“You understand what’s after her?”
“More than most.”
She tilted her head. “That thing — Donquavious — he wasn’t always a threat. He used to be… part of the circle. One of us, in a way. Then he touched somethin’ he wasn’t supposed to. Now he don’t bleed right. Don’t dream right. And he’s got a hunger for power he’ll never stop feeding.”
Justin’s jaw clenched. “He came too close to her once. That’s already too many times.”
“She’s stubborn. Like her father. She’ll try to carry it all herself.” Her eyes finally softened — just a crack. “Don’t let her.”
Justin looked away, then back. “She’s not a burden. I’m not scared to carry her weight.”
Waiya’s mother studied him for a long, silent moment. “She’ll break your heart before she lets herself fall for you. That’s how she was taught — to fight, to lead, to survive. Love is dangerous for women like us. Makes you bleed in ways even spirit medicine can’t stitch.”
“I’m not tryin’ to tame her,” Justin said. “I just wanna be the one that stands beside her. Through all of it.”
There was a long pause before she finally said, “Good.”
The screen door creaked again as she turned to leave.
Before she disappeared inside, she added over her shoulder, “If you ever hurt her, though — spirit world won’t be able to save you from me. Or her grandmother.”
Justin almost smiled. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
The door shut behind her.
And Justin sat there, staring into the trees, feeling Waiya’s storm still pulsing through the air.
Something had shifted.
And he knew the next time they came face to face — after everything that just happened — neither of them would be the same.
- Writer
