Shades And Shadows Collection

Chapter 3-2

Mason stretched as he climbed out of the small tent. Long shadows and hints of golds and reds through the thick tree cover told him the sun was beginning to sink in the distance and he should be on his way. It didn"t take him long to strike camp and set out in the general direction of the town he"d only been to a handful of times in his life, and most of those had been before his father had died.

The dark in these woods was deep, making them difficult to travel at night for anyone who wasn"t accustomed to the dark. He knew it meant he wouldn"t be likely encounter anyone.

Several hours after starting, Mason could feel the pull of water and altered his course. He wasn"t sure how long it would be before he would find clean water again.

Beside a small mountain pond, Mason stripped down and waded out into the water. Life teemed in the water; fish and plant life and as he sank deeper he could sense the lingering touch of another Shade. He stopped and scanned the area, but if there was another Shade he was too far away for Mason to sense him.

The water still carried his energy though and Mason almost wanted to seek the Shade out. He hadn"t met a Shade who wasn"t family since before his father died.

Mason soaked only for a few minutes, restless now and eager to be moving again. He dressed as quickly as he could and pulled an apple from his pack to eat as he walked. As he resumed his hike, he noticed a path worn into the ground. Again, he felt the lingering presence of another Shade.

He continued cautiously, scanning around him more thoroughly than he had been before. The path curved to the east, and even though his destination lay in the south, Mason followed it a little further. Just as he was about to abandon the path and return to his own journey, he spotted a small cottage with a vegetable patch beside it.

Here, the feeling of another Shade was stronger. He stopped, watching the cottage uncertainly. An aging black man rounded the corner of the building, his eyes finding Mason and he stopped. “You lost, son?” he asked when Mason didn"t move or say anything.

Mason took a step closer. “No, sir. I"m sorry if I"m intruding. I just…” He gestured vaguely behind him in the direction of the water.

The man nodded. “Ain"t never seen one of your own?”

Mason shook his head and stepped closer still. “Family. We live further up the mountain, near Naft. I was just curious is all.”

The man"s dark eyes narrowed and swept over him. “You headed somewhere?”

“Back east. Family business.”

The man stuck the shovel in his hand into the dirt and came toward Mason, wiping his hands on a bandana from his pocket before reaching that hand out. Mason hesitated slightly, then shook the hand. “I"m Paul Raymon. Clan Oamra.”

“Mason Jerah.”

“Don Jerah"s boy?”

Mason was surprised, but he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Was wondering what happened to you after his death. Figured you"d been shipped off to your mother"s sister.”

Mason frowned. He didn"t know anything about a sister. And he realized slowly that this man had to have known his parents.

Paul nodded, smirking a little. “Yeah, I knew him. We were little hellions together. Stood with him when he married your ma. I moved away a year or so later so I wasn"t around when…” He looked away, nodding. “I"m sorry.”

“Thank you. It was a long time ago.” He felt awkward standing there and gestured back toward the trail. “I should probably…”

“I was just going to have something to eat. Do an old man a favor and share a meal with me?” He wiped the bandana over the dark black skin of his face.

“I don"t know.”

Paul nodded. “I understand.”

“No offense.” Mason said, blushing a little as he realized it probably was offensive. “I"ve never…my Nana warned me…”

“Ah.” Paul seemed to suddenly get what Mason"s discomfort was. “Your Nana. She was a powerful Shade, but she was afraid of her own shadow. Not that I blame her, she didn"t have it easy.”

“I wouldn"t know.” Mason said, shifting on his feet. “She never told me much about…anything. Just that I needed to be careful of…” he rolled his eyes, “pretty much everyone.”

Paul nodded. “Yeah, she was like that even back when we were kids, your dad and I. She didn"t trust other Shades because she was afraid they"d be like the one that killed her brother. She didn"t trust humans, because of what happened to your grandfather during the war.”

Mason shook his head. He didn"t know anything about the events Paul was talking about. He wondered for a moment if he could find the details in the memories that lived inside him now.

As if he could sense Mason"s thoughts, Paul asked, “Did she give you her last breath?”

Mason nodded. “Yeah. I just wish she"d trained me how to ….” He waved a hand at his head. “It"s a jumbled mess. And my mother"s is in there too…Dad locked it away because I was too young…but it"s all open now and it all bleeds together.” He stopped, closing his eyes and chastising himself for saying too much. Here he was, telling some perfect stranger things he had no business sharing. “I"m sorry. I"m sure I"ll figure it out.”

Paul touched his shoulder softly. “It"s okay, Son. I imagine it"s a right mess.” He pressed his lips together and seemed to consider something before he took a deep breath. “I could help, if you"d let me.”

Mason narrowed his eyes. “How?”

He offered a smile. “Well, I could train you to handle all of those memories that aren"t yours. Maybe give you some basics on other skills that she should have taught you, but didn"t.”

Mason"s breath caught in his throat. He had no reason to trust this man, and his heart thundered with fear as he considered it. Something inside him wanted him to run, but he recognized it as her fear, not his.

“I think…I think I"d like that.” Mason said.

Paul smiled, a deep smile that smoothed out some of the wrinkles on his face and made his eyes sparkle. “Well then, take that load off your back and let"s have a meal. We can start after.”

* * *

“Are you ready?” Paul asked as Mason settled to sit in the grass beside the pond where they had spent some time soaking and building up his energy.

Mason swallowed tightly and nodded. “As I"m ever going to be.”

“Relax.”

“Easy for you to say.” Mason muttered. He pushed the fear aside for probably the tenth time since they"d started just after the sunset. Up until now, everything had been talk. The last three nights Paul had walked him through the theory of a number of skills he should have already known. Now, for the first time, he was going to let Paul touch his mind, something no one but his father and grandparents had ever done.

He inhaled slowly and closed his eyes. His hand tightened around his talisman and he exhaled just as slowly to center himself. He took a few moments to breathe and center and clear his mind. When he was ready, Mason opened his hand, palm up on his knee.

Paul"s hand was warm as it slid over his. There was a moment of pressure in Mason"s head and his hand began to tingle under Paul"s. “Relax.” Paul breathed.

Mason focused on not fighting against the unusual intrusion, and with an almost audible pop he could hear Paul"s voice. “That"s good.”

That"s good.Panic raced through him, but Mason held it at bay, forcing himself to stay open. “Now what?”

Now what?“Remember what I told you about last breaths, and how they are meant to become part of you. The memories are real, organic, they belong to you.”

Remember what I told you about last breaths, and how they are meant to become part of you. The memories are real, organic, they belong to you.Mason reached into the place where the memories were lumped together. “Begin with your mother"s.” Paul said and Mason shifted through until he latched on to the moment that his mother had breathed into him. The ball of her last breath was largely unchanged from the day he had received it and he metaphorically dragged it out into the center of his mind-space. He had accessed memories within the ball, but it had never really been incorporated as part of him.

Begin with your mother"s.“Good.” Paul said. “Remember.”

Good.Remember.Mason nodded, hoping it was as easy as his lessons had made it seem. He had to go back to that moment, when she realized she was going to die and told him to be strong before she had opened her mouth and pressed it to his.

Tears burned on his cheek, but he didn"t move to wipe them away. Instead he stepped into the memory, once again becoming that nine-year-old boy. Fear and pain filled him as he clung to her hand and she whispered into his mind to swallow it, keep it safe. “You are a Jerah, Mason, but you are also a son of Clan Leighis. Don"t be afraid.”

You are a Jerah, Mason, but you are also a son of Clan Leighis. Don"t be afraid.Her hands were shaking as they reached for him. Her face was pale, ghostly white. “As my mother once gifted me, I now give to you. Carry forward the Magena line, Mason. It is part of you.” Her thumbs rubbed away his tears and she drew him close. Her mouth opened and he wasn"t sure what to expect when she covered his mouth with her own. “Open your mouth, Mason, and take the gathered knowledge of my line.”

As my mother once gifted me, I now give to you. Carry forward the Magena line, Mason. It is part of you.Open your mouth, Mason, and take the gathered knowledge of my line.He opened his mouth dutifully and she pushed the ball of memory into him with her breath. She lingered a few minutes more before her heart stopped, her hands sliding away from him as she died.

Mason held the memory, the image of her face as she lay there, the shock of it all. It had happened quickly. His father was away, tending to family business. They had gone into town, taking the beat up old truck down the dirt road and eating ice cream at the ice cream shop. It was on their drive home that she had noticed something wrong. By the time they had gotten to the cabin, she was fevered and in a matter of hours, she was dying.

Paul"s presence intruded on the memory and Mason remembered he had a task to perform. “There, it began to open before your father returned to hide it away. Can you see it?”

There, it began to open before your father returned to hide it away. Can you see it?Mason did see it and he nudged at the ball of memory, pulling on the strings that bound it until it opened, spilling out into him, washing through his mind in a sudden tide. “Stay centered.” Paul warned and Mason nodded. He anchored himself and let the tide wash around him, observing memories and moments as they settled.

Stay centered.“You"re going to want to soak for a while, let the water help you integrate it all.” He could sense Paul pulling back, the touch of his hand leaving.

You"re going to want to soak for a while, let the water help you integrate it all.Mason lingered inside his head a while longer, feeling the nearly forgotten touch of his mother"s hand and the smell of her hair. When he finally opened his eyes, Paul was gone and Mason was alone.

He stood and waded out into the water, sinking quickly into the dark depth and letting the energy they had charged the pond with earlier in the evening help even out the edges of his experience.

Inside him the memory was alive, shifting into place, showing him his own life in his mother"s eyes, and back to the day she had married his father, her own life as a child, her father, a stern man that seemed angry, and back further even.

Mason discovered names bubbling up to attach to faces, people he had never known, but family and kin. He surfaced only when his lungs needed air, sinking quickly once he had filled them again.

For hours he soaked and lived through the lives of those who had come before him. It was better than any movie he"d seen, and he was reluctant to let it go, even though he knew he"d be best served by not letting it exhaust him.

Knowledge, at least theoretical, filled him; ideas of what was possible spawned and a hunger to learn grew.

Most of the night had passed without his notice when he finally swam toward the shore. He dried and dressed. Paul met him at the door of the little cottage with a large glass of water. Mason nodded his thanks and drained it.

They didn"t speak. There was no need. Paul set the table, ladling a rich stew into two wooden bowls. Mason sat and pulled a bowl to him. His pack still stood beside the door where he had put it down when he decided to stay. It reminded him he still had a duty to see to, maybe even more so than when he had originally set out. He had never known his mother"s family, not even their name. It must have been locked up with the rest of his memories of her death. But now he had a name. Her memories told him it had been complicated, and there was a reason they had never visited with them, nor had they come to visit her.

“Did you know my mother"s people?” Mason asked suddenly, looking at Paul.

“Not so much. I"d met them, of course. Community as small as ours, but her daddy was not a pleasant man.”

“She was angry with him.” Mason said, though he hadn"t figured out why.

Paul chuckled a little. “Might say that. Neither of his daughters were ever very happy with him.”

Mason nodded. “Any idea where the family is?”

Paul shook his head and raised his glass of water, draining most of it before answering. “Last I knew, her sister had married and was living in Ohio. The old man must be dead by now.”

Mason finished eating and pushed the bowl away. “So, tomorrow we can work on integrating Nana"s last breath better?”

“You really should give it a few days.” Paul said.

“I"ve already been here longer than I meant to.” Mason replied. “I want to get to Washington, get the Jerah Book of Line. Then maybe see if I can find my mother"s family.” He knew Paul was probably right. Even with as much as he"d learned, he was woefully ignorant and he"d learned more in these few days with Paul than he had in the last five years. “I can come back, after.”

“Okay. If you think you"re ready.” Paul"s voice was doubtful, but he"d agreed, turning his attention back to his food.

Mason wasn"t sure he was ready, but he knew he didn"t want to wait. He was beginning to feel like all he had done his whole life was wait. “I"m going to call it a night. I"m wiped.” Mason filled his glass with water from the pitcher on the table and excused himself to the small room he had been passing the days in. He stretched out on his sleeping bag and closed his eyes. He slipped into sleep quickly, gliding along dreams of strangers who shared his blood.