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These were the Stranger's thoughts when he was slowly plodding towards the park: he was used to stay overnight in caves, on the seashore, and in gardens. He had little money and had to save it for an emergency.
Suddenly he felt a stare at his back. He turned sharply and saw a woman’s silhouette about twenty paces off. A Wind breeze strengthened him and gave him confidence. He slowly approached the woman. She was staring tensely in his face and above his head. The woman made several gestures with her hand as if groping for something invisible. Coming up closer he saw how beautiful she was. His heart beat hard.
The Stranger started to drown in her hot black eyes; he almost stopped short of breath: he loved that beauty alluring and unwelcoming, unapproachable and dangerous, but he was strong enough to rouse himself.
“Look into her and feel what she lives with,” the Stranger came to his senses, the Wind breath, that disappeared when his heart leaped, returned. He recognized her. No, he had never met her before, but he knew her from newspapers.
“Do you want something from me? Have you followed me from the Seer’s home?” the Stranger addressed her without a traditional greeting.
“I’m Medium,” she said quietly and meaningfully. “I live in the City, came to the Seer, but when I saw you and your friend I got interested in you, especially in you.”
The Stranger felt that the encounter was not accidental and decided to check at once.
“I must go to the City. Is your flat big? Will you give me shelter?”
The Medium met different people, some of whom happened to be very extraordinary, and therefore she ignored the question and continued:
“Have you heard about me?”
“Very little. I'm sorry I usually do not circulate among the people who talk to the other world.”
“Then you have a chance to expand your horizon,” the Medium said haughtily. “Why do you need the City? Normal people, to the contrary, are leaving it now.”
“Normal people…” the Stranger repeated sadly and his face was touched by a shadow,
“I don’t know but I must.”
“Then let’s not waste time. Come to my place,” the woman liked that man who was simple and complex at the same time, and she was drawn by controversies.
“No. Let’s go tomorrow morning, I need to sleep well. I haven’t slept two nights, and I will need to be strong in the City. Stay a night in the hotel. But I don’t have money for two separate rooms, let’s book one with twin beds or you book for yourself. But for the sake of saving, you can stay a night with the Seer. Sorry, I’m not so gallant.”
“I have enough to book all rooms, but I want to be closer to you,” she looked mischievous.
Talking and taking no heed of the time, they approached the hotel.
In the room, having enjoyed a shower, the Stranger blissfully stretched on a soft bed, but couldn’t fall asleep next to beautiful woman because of excitement. He tried to instill in himself the sense of a light and pleasant breeze. He became less tense with time. Listening to a monotonous and lulling play of waves, the Stranger fell asleep. The Medium was sitting in the armchair with her legs pulled up. She felt good besides him, calm and peaceful. “I would enjoy looking at him all my life,” she thought.
The Medium earned by fortunetelling and chiromancy. She told fortune in the state of a trance. But after the Seer insisted she does not change her consciousness at own will, she did it quite rarely. She treated the sick that could not be treated by traditional methods.
But she achieved the top or depth of her performance (here opinions differed) when she talked with the world of the dead. Unhappy people who lost their dear ones but could not accept the loss came to her and wished to speak with the deceased dear ones. The Medium asked the relative to give her an object of the dead or a printed photo, but not an electronic version, built a connecting channel between the object and the soul, tuned on to the image of the dead, saw contours, told about the life and habits and sometimes the last days in the body and transmitted the will or desires of the dead.
Lately, she has achieved the level of authority so high that she stopped speaking on TV, rejected interview requests and selected her visitors as she wished. She usually refused to see low-income people unless she considered the case especially interesting, although she had used to be a timid and shy girl willing to help. Fame changed her; she became haughty, proud, and obstinate: the symptoms of the star fever that the Seer, who had seen ups and downs in his life, despised. But that recent arrogance might have been a kind of a protection. The Medium was attacked by the representatives of religious orders who condemned her and continuously threatened her with punishment, but she ignored their threats and did not hire a bodyguard.
The Medium was lonely, she could not live with a man who would be weaker than she was, and could lower her head only before the Seer who treated her tenderly but patronizingly. It irritated her, tortured, and piqued, however she considered no other man more worthy than the Seer. Now she wanted just one thing: to be with the sleeping man, cuddle up to him, and there come what may. Jump in feet first.
She felt she had known him for ages. They might have met in their previous life and that happiness and joy when she saw an unknown man might be a kind of recognition of kindred. She was surprised most of all by unusual glow above his head which either appeared or disappeared. He radiated calmness and strength but his companion was a source of danger, and the Medium saw a fiery halo above him, which was inseparable from the people who had shed much blood. That was the halo of a cruel warrior, although the man did not look like an evildoer or a criminal.
The aura of the pleasant stranger whose name she had forgotten to ask was not very remarkable by itself: usually seen among believers and religious people. The Medium treated them without any respect. She respected certain ceremonies in church as well as other magical actions and even used some religious practices: read extracts from sacred books, showed religious symbols, talismans, images of saints. She thought that it was also magic, although religious but had value for her only when they contributed to her efforts.
She got up and came up to the bed where the Stranger was sleeping, sat down, took his hand tenderly and looked at the lines on the palm. Suddenly without opening his eyes, he grasped her palm, pulled it her cheek and held it there during several seconds.
“I'm sorry,” the Stranger said letting her palm go. “I haven’t had a woman for a long time; it was an uncontrolled reflex to the girl’s fingers. Good night, medium,” he said her name separating it into two words.
The woman’s eyes sparkled with rage, she was quick-tempered as most of representatives of her profession which demanded very intense nervous strain. She got up quickly and left the room slamming the door.
“A hot woman,” the Stranger sighed and settled down into sleep.
Chapter 8. Anomaly
After another cigarette, the Seer felt ready to get an insight in his recent strange visitor.
“He looks like an ordinary believer, you can feel this speaking with him and by the way he’s glanced at my seductive servant, but he is not an adept of a religious community. Possessing such energy, anyone would insist he is guided by the godly power and by the spirit of God’s ancient chosen ones and would have found a way to use the talent to the benefit of his organization or personal career development. Ok, it means he acts by himself. Such loners are harder to understand. And what if his actions are guided by a real power? Showing up, such people are precursors of disasters and catastrophes. It is difficult to understand his aim. And what's the use? I’ve felt the impact of his power. Fear and weakness are engulfing gradually but ruthlessly. To be fair, the man did not wish me evil, stopped on time, although it must have been hard to contain a flow of power. Hence, it can be controlled? I wonder whether his companion felt this energy. The power was against me and that was strange, as I did not show aggression. I didn’t press on him. I just slightly explored him, scanned his thoughts, a normal desire. Can it be that an evil mask of the ancient god of war woke something? Strange. How can such trinkets impact? May his power show associatively? So, a believer who abides by peace principles. A rare case in our times. However, any pacifism has limits. Pacifist with a deadly weapon? Maybe that’s why he is a pacifist? Or has he received it because he is a pacifist? Good intuition but nothing outstanding. The most important is the power. Others think the right question is a half-answered question, but for me it is almost an answer. Is this power independent?”
It seems to be easy: yes or no. But the Seer could not give any answer and said out loud:
“What's the matter? An inexact question?”
He listened to himself. Missed again. He lacked information.
“Does this power manifest itself at the will of its holder? The guest seemed to have intentionally held back the information on how it was the first time. This must be the key. When I assumed that the power was a kind of a weapon, he agreed. Still, the guest knows little about this himself. Let’s think more. Can this power treat? Not so unambiguous. Does it treat some diseases? Seems like that. Yes, surely yes!”
Irritation passed and the Seer was inspired and decided he was approaching the solution. “What illnesses?” He asked out loud. He closed his eyes. At that moment, he saw as if highlighted on the virtual display the words ‘mental disorders’ and cried out, “I have it!” He extracted the word ‘obsession’ from list. “So, this energy can be used to treat from obsession, can’t it? Exorcist? But he is not a priest. Who will go to him? Will he be hired in the mental house? Will he treat with his power? Use words to drive out demons? Ok, no one will employ him; rather make him a patient in the clinic. Doctors do not believe in demons. Will he frighten obsessed priests? Very unlikely. He is not this kind. Only in case of an accidental encounter when his power will manifest all by itself. Ok, how many charismatic priests are there?”
The Seer knew that there were two kinds of obsession. Ancient books described godly obsession with bright knowledge, prophesy, genial ideas, and prophetic dreams. Even poetry is a kind of liberation from the mind and subconscious connection to another source above human experience.
But there existed destructive obsession: passion, suicide, violence, and homicide. “Sick people think they contain someone who directs them, and there is an impression there is an anomaly which changes their identity. I think there is no anomaly. A split personality or substitution must be related to the subconscious of the sick, and it is activated under impact of special and unusual circumstances, including fear, stress, alcohol, and drugs. Most even don’t suspect what might happen.”
However, the word ‘anomaly’ made the Seer uneasy….
Chapter 9. Soul rotation
The Medium went down the hotel lounge, came up to the bar counter, and ordered a cognac, cheese, and olives. She wanted to unwind a bit. She was still drinking cognac when she saw a young man with a clouded glance, but dressed in the latest young fashion.
“What can I bring you?” he asked freely.
“If you are a waiter, get lost,” the Medium proposed with expressed scorn.
“Me? You don’t know who I am?” said the guy through clenched teeth filling with rage.
“Now, let’s see who you are,” she sharply grasped the man by his palm and attentively surveyed the life and destiny lines.
“You were born in a poor family,” the Medium started to speak. She felt inspiration and anger. “You fell ill often, nearly drowned, was rescued at the last moment and maybe they shouldn’t have done that. Why do we rescue villains? You have never done anything good. You have never married and never will. Your father has died recently, but you have mother and sister. Three or four years ago you received a large sum of money; either won it or received it as a gift because you were only good enough to have a dose and a couple of prostitutes. But this money is meant to kill you. You have little time left. Very little.”
The man was suddenly pale, he seemed to be shocked. He turned his head around trying to become sober but did not succeed.
“H… how many years do I have left?” he asked stumbling.
“About a year, no more. Look at yourself: you are a goner,” the Medium answered indifferently.
The young man took out a small box from his pocket, poured out powder directly onto the bar counter, divided it into two strips, took out a banknote, placed it at his nostril, quickly inhaled white dust, shuddered, blinked, noisily exhaled and smiling angrily winked at the prophetess.
“You won’t die of sinus trouble,” the Medium said and drank her cognac in one gulp. She felt no pity for the man. That was strange: several years ago she would feel compassion, give advice what to do to change the effects of the choice.
She went up to the room, quietly opened the door, and smiled seeing a sleeping man. She certainly liked him. She fetched a packet of cigarettes, went to the balcony, closed the door tight, sat on the floor, and smoked. She was not able to relax or get away from the thoughts about her new acquaintance:
“An interesting story. Who is the man? Why have I come after him? What does he need in the City? A strange halo, which either appears or disappears? There are various energy clusters above a person, especially above seriously ill people, they can be used to determine if the person will die or live. But he has totally different light above, it seems to be alive and emit power. Unclear. It seems I have known him long. May this be the experience of previous lives? It happens when you meet someone and seem to know everything about him, although you met just five minutes ago. But the most interesting thing is that I liked him from the very beginning. That feels strange. Have I fallen in love? Crap! Though…”
The door to the balcony opened.
“Hope I won’t disturb you?” the subject of her thoughts whispered.
“No. On the contrary. I’m bored. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Because I have woken up.”
“Shall we speak?”
“Yes.”
“What is your name?”
“The Stranger.”
“Pilgrim?”
“Possibly.”
“Why have you visited the Seer?”
“To speak,” the Stranger answered concisely.
“And?” the Medium drew down cigarette smoke.
“We spoke.”
“What do you want in the City?” the woman moved very close to him.
“I don’t know yet,” he whispered mysteriously.
“Have you been sent to the City?” she asked pointing out to the night sky with a cigarette spark.
“Exactly.”
“Who?”
The Stranger sighed. He was joking and laughing at anything but the God.
“I hope, the Creator,” he sounded a bit detached. “But the Seer doubts it.”
“Why?” the Medium grew wary.
“He believes the voice is not a sufficient reason to follow.”
“And what do you think?” the woman repeated.
“Time has come,” he inhaled air mixed with cigarette smoke.
“What for?” she threw out the butt from the balcony.
“I hope it is for something important.”
“And this important is in the City, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” the Stranger felt good beside that woman. He could speak up about what bothered him most.
“It happens. I have a persistent feeling that I have known you for a long time. Maybe we met in the previous life and maybe more than that,” she looked in his eyes boldly.
“This would be possible if you were a woman and I was a man,” the Stranger smiled. “I don’t believe in previous lives. Although I know that almost all religions accept the soul rotation doctrine. Once I had to live with one tribe and study its religion and customs. The soul rotation doctrine is the most important religious principle of the community. I saw a child who told me in detail about the life of a warrior in the tribe killed in a battle, although he had died several months before the birth of the boy. I spoke with the boy and checked everything, the child made almost no mistakes, he shared even the intimate details no one but the wife of the deceased could know. Isn’t it proof of the soul rotation? But it is incorrect to take into account only one version.”
“Do you think the child was playing a role?” the Medium grinned.
“Absolutely impossible.”
“What's the problem then?”
“The three-year old boy knew not only the deceased but other people living and dead. The child was your kin. That explains much. The chiefs used him and showed magic to reinforce religious principles and their authority to have no barriers to lead the community and send warriors to fight without fear for their life. Some think that after death of the body the soul is inseparably connected with another body and resuscitates it. Others believe that only kind souls are immortal and only the souls of kind people can have another life in other bodies, and evil ones should are foredoomed to agony. The God bestows the right to be born again upon those who adhere by commandments. There is an opinion that evil people will live a life filled with suffering in the bodies of unhappy people or animals. I can accept that in rare cases a soul can have a new life in another body. The God can do anything, even if it seems senseless. But if we didn’t remember what was happening in the previous life, how would we understand the lesson and find out what has to be changed in ourselves? Here and now we have enough lessons and signs to understand our steps and correct something. Of course, it is easy to understand the misfortunes of this life by the mistakes made in the previous one. It is an attractive and easy way to go for modern theologians, but an easy way does not mean the right one! Ancient theologians who came not only to console the Sufferer but also to condemn him in his crimes and justify the divine justice never told him, ‘Be patient, brother, you are paying for the crimes you have committed in past life.’ They did not think of the soul rotation doctrine,” the Stranger explained calmly.
“You are not right,” the Medium said irritated. “There are different kinds of embodiment and it does not necessarily mean settling in human bodies, but this is not for everyone. The spiritual world is very complex. In order to see it, you need to be either born a seer or learn to see. You say we don’t remember our previous bodies, but it is not necessary. We must learn to feel and follow our feelings. The soul doesn’t think, it recollects and feels. The pang of conscience, intuitive knowledge of the good and the bad and even hazard, fears or, to the contrary, joys, these are indistinct memories… and lessons from previous life. The soul embedded in the body tries to save or respectfully withstand a severe and horrible trial. This is what it is for. But it is enslaved by our mind and suffers. We are weighed down by much going around and do not listen to the voice. We don’t find harmony between the soul and mind.”
“This is your imagination, illusionary worlds which you instill with power and make real,” the Stranger muttered. “Well, if you tune on to the Source of Knowledge, you will see anything and won’t be able to tell the reality from imagination. There might be no distinct border in between.”
“I’m not going to argue. You are very conservative, but you are a curious man. You are unlike others,” the Medium looked at him tenderly and said affectionately, “I have seen a strange light above your head and it wasn’t a halo. Do you know what it is?”
The Stranger suddenly felt light tongues of the Wind.
“Can you see it now?” he asked and the Medium looked narrowly at him.
“Yes, I can see it now,” she looked in the companion’s eyes and saw an unknown glance, which emitted power. She felt uncomfortable. “Your eyes! What is wrong with your eyes?” she exclaimed and continued to peer at him frightened.
“Nothing threatens you,” the Stranger said detachedly and the woman thought that the light above his head became brighter. “It is the Wind. He is my friend. I can see that you are connected with some energies and forces. As soon as they show they can arouse the Wind to act against them and touch you. If possible, do not try to summon spirits in my presence and don’t do anything extraordinary.”
“Is it bad?” the Medium lowered her head. She did not want to listen to another challenge to her abilities.
“It is also knowledge, but the source of this knowledge is doubtful. In any case, a person will not benefit from this. But I know very little about this,” the Stranger did not want to hurt the woman.
“That’s how I was born. I have a talent,” it was important for her to justify herself.
“I’m not your judge, but they can use you. It is dangerous.”
“But no, I’m using them. That’s how I earn my bread,” the Medium smiled.
“There are different energies which cannot be seen to normal eyes. You might see more. Animals see in a totally different system. Microscope, telescope, or X-ray can be used to see something inaccessible to human eyes. Such people as you or the Seer can see something that cannot be seen through these devices. But no talent gives access to the country of justice,” the Stranger tried to speak as soft as possible.
The woman was almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and despite external confidence could hardly keep control.
“And what will?”
“Our endeavors, acts, and belief.”
“Do you believe in the country of justice? Where is it? Over there?”
The Medium pointed her finger at stars.
“It is somewhere, far away and nearby at the same time. It might reach the Earth,” the Stranger was silent and then added: “someday.”
“Ok,” the woman nodded eagerly. “It’s a pity we won’t see that.”
“I won’t live to these days and I won’t see the time when my songs are needed… If the Creator so wishes, He can shift our substance to another medium. Do you copy important information from your computer to discs?”
“I don’t copy all information to other media.”
The Stranger nodded and sighed heavily:
“I’m afraid you are not the only one who does like that.”
“That’s personification of the soul,” she found it hard to smile.
“There are heavenly shells and earthly ones…” the Stranger sank into reverie.
Silence set in. The woman seemed to be fighting a thought. Breathing out, the Medium made a decision.
“Do you want to sleep with me?” she asked sharply, even without looking in his direction.
The Stranger did not expect such a straightforward question and could not keep from smiling.
“Do you, magicians and enchanters, usually reinforce heart-to-heart talks with sex?”
“Well, no, but sex is the easiest way to get to know a person and you are a riddle to me,” she looked up at him with her fiery eyes.
“Then let’s postpone the learning process,” the Stranger grinned. “I fear to disappoint you when you get to know me. You may deprive me of your hospitality in the City and that would be quite an unhappy occasion.”
The woman smiled, looked at the Stranger playfully and thought: “And he does want me, I can see that.”
The Medium went to the bathroom. She came after shower, completely naked, demonstrating her splendid figure, proudly passed the man, languidly sighed and lay down on her bed and did not cover herself with the blanket.
“There is a draught, you’ll catch cold,” he said yawning.
“Maybe, you are not interested in women, aren’t you? Anyone in your place will be sitting at my feet.”
“I’m not anyone. I thought you could see that. The strong differ from the weak not by lack of desire, but by the ability to manage and control, they know the reason to hold their passions. We had a nice talk,” said the Stranger through his teeth and turned to another side.
The woman could not go to sleep. She rolled herself up in a sheet, went out to the balcony again, and smoked.
“Can I ask you a question?” the Stranger could not go to sleep either.
“Sure.”
“Why do you both smoke so much?”
“Who both?” the Medium asked to clarify.
“You and the Seer. If you are able to see, you must know what harm it makes.”
“As far as I know, the Seer cannot quit smoking.”
“Why?”