the shaman way

Viora played in the backyard with the orb of plasma, her hands deftly shaping its glowing surface. The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of autumn. Having just finished breakfast, her energy was boundless, her focus locked on the swirling light in her palms.

The backyard stretched wide, framed by two old trees whose leaves were surrendering to the season. A gentle breeze carried them to the ground, painting the earth in hues of orange and red. The soft rustling of leaves created a serene symphony, broken only by the occasional crackle of Viora's orb as it pulsed with energy.

She spun around, her laughter echoing as she tossed the orb into the air, catching it effortlessly. The vibrant light contrasted beautifully with the fading colors of the trees. The sky above was a pale blue, its clarity a sharp contrast to the fiery carpet below. Despite the chill in the air, Viora felt warm, her connection to the orb filling her with an almost electric vitality.

The backyard seemed alive in its own way, a place where the remnants of summer met the quiet embrace of fall. Viora paused for a moment, her gaze lifting to the branches above. A single leaf drifted down, and she reached out, catching it alongside her glowing orb.

"Perfect catch," she whispered to herself, a smile curling on her lips as she twirled both in her hand. She was lost in her own little world, a fleeting moment of peace before the weight of her journey would inevitably call her back.

She paused as the wind blew gently against her face, brushing her hair back like a fleeting whisper. The orb of plasma shimmered softly in her small hands, its warmth contrasting with the chill in the air. She held it close, staring at the glowing sphere with quiet wonder before tilting her head upward toward the pale sky.

So cold...

The words slipped from her lips in a murmur, her breath visible in the crisp autumn air. Resolving to leave the chill behind, she turned and began walking toward the house. A trail of tiny blue plasma orbs floated behind her, bobbing gently as they chirped with cheerful voices:

"Fuwa-fuwa! Fuwa-fuwa!"

Their playful tones echoed in the stillness, bringing a small smile to her lips. She opened the door and stepped inside, the warmth of the house wrapping around her like a comforting blanket.

Kicking off her shoes, she shrugged off her coat, holding it awkwardly in her hands. She hopped once, twice, reaching for the coat hook on the wall, but it remained just out of reach. She paused, looking up at it with a quiet frustration. Then, with a small pout, she called out, her voice soft but loud enough to carry through the house:

"Mama Ipoh."

From the basement, a voice called back, warm and steady:

"Coming."

Viora let out a soft, contented sigh, her earlier frustration melting away. She walked to the top of the basement stairs, her small feet making barely a sound against the wooden floor. Peering down, she saw Mama Ipoh ascending, her arms stacked high with a precarious pile of books.

The books teetered slightly with each step, as though they might spill at any moment, but Mama Ipoh's confident balance kept them in place. Viora watched her in quiet admiration, marveling at how easily Mama Ipoh managed such a load.

As Mama Ipoh reached the top of the stairs, Viora hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice soft but earnest:

"Mama Ipoh, I can't reach the door hook... Can you do it for me instead?"

She held her coat close to her chest, the fabric bunched in her small hands as she looked up, her eyes wide with both expectation and apology. Mama Ipoh paused, balancing the books carefully, and glanced down at Viora with a warm smile.

Mama Ipoh carefully set the stack of books down against the wall, brushing off her hands as she turned to Viora with the same gentle smile.

"Ah, you want me to hang your coat on the hook? But that's not such a hard task, even for a child..."

She trailed off, tilting her head slightly as her gaze lingered on Viora. There was a moment of quiet as Mama Ipoh took in her petite frame, her eyes softening with realization.

Despite being ten years old, Viora was noticeably shorter than most children her age. Mama Ipoh's smile turned a little playful, though it carried no malice.

"Ah, I see now. How silly of me. Being that short—even by child standards—would make it tricky to reach the hook."

She crouched down slightly, placing a hand on her hip in mock contemplation.

"Still, it surprises me sometimes. You're perfectly healthy, not a trace of any condition—just tiny, like a little sprout."

Her tone was light, teasing just enough to draw a giggle out of Viora, though her words held a warmth that ensured the girl never felt less-than.

Viora's giggle suddenly stopped, her face flushed with frustration as she stomped her foot.

"I'm not short!!" she shouted, her voice filled with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

The outburst caught Mama Ipoh by surprise, her eyes widening slightly as she blinked at Viora. It seemed that the girl had learned how to mask her frustration with a touch of sarcasm—something that both amused and concerned her.

Mama Ipoh let out a long, exaggerated sigh, shaking her head with a playful grin.

"You are short... but sure, I'll help you."

She reached out gently, taking the coat from Viora's hands, her fingers brushing lightly against the girl's skin. With a few measured steps, she made her way to the door hook, hanging the coat carefully.

As she did, she couldn't help but glance back at Viora, who was now pouting, her small arms crossed in defiance.

"There. Happy now, little one?"

Viora took a few tentative steps forward, stopping just in front of Mama Ipoh. She looked up at her, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Thanks…"

Mama Ipoh exhaled softly, as if letting out a sigh she didn't know she'd been holding. She gave Viora a small nod, her lips curving into a faint smile.

Viora stood there for a moment, her gaze drifting aimlessly as if lost in thought. Then, breaking the silence, she asked:

"What are we doing today?"

Mama Ipoh mirrored her pause, staring at nothing for a moment as if the question had caught her off guard. She crossed her arms thoughtfully before finally speaking.

"Hmm… You're right. It's only day two of me being your caretaker, and aside from that little accident this morning, we haven't really done much together." She paused, her expression brightening. "So, how about we go for a walk in the forest?"

At those words, Viora's lips curled into a gentle smile. Her voice was soft but carried a hint of excitement.

"That'd be great!"

Mama Ipoh chuckled, resting her hands on her hips. "Alright, then! Let's get ready and make it an adventure."

Mama Ipoh slipped on her sandals, shrugging into her coat with practiced ease. She handed Viora her own little jacket, watching as the girl put it on.

"Ready?" Mama Ipoh asked, her smile warm and radiant, a single golden tooth catching the light as she spoke.

Viora, standing just beside her, nodded eagerly. "Ready!"

Mama Ipoh opened the door, holding it for Viora before stepping out and closing it gently behind them. She extended her hand toward the girl, her expression soft and inviting.

"Want to hold hands?" she asked, her tone gentle yet full of care.

This time, Viora didn't hesitate. She reached up, her small hand slipping into Mama Ipoh's. Their hands clasped together, warm against the crisp morning air, and they descended the steps of the house together, stepping onto the sidewalk.

The sound of their footsteps mingled with the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze as they began their walk, side by side.

chapter twenty-two end 

{after chapter poem}

To you, the droplet that falls from the heavens,

To you, the droplet who feels she doesn't belong,

To the droplet who fears her pond will never last,

To you, little droplet, who believes that anyone she touches will fade away.

To you, who longs to become an endless river,

An unstoppable current that will carry you to a place where you belong.

To you, my little sunshine,

I may not be able to transform your droplet self into a river reaching the heavens in three hundred and fifty million nights,

But at least, let me take your hand.

Two little droplets, holding hands,

Flowing down the river together,

So I can help heal the wounds that fill your tiny heart.