Talk:Book One Chapter 1: Never to late/@comment-33246279-20171007060931/@comment-25227324-20171008002943

Nyma: " I-I . . . I can't do it !!! "



Beads of sweat formed in clusters at the base of her hairline. The loose hairs that framed her face were slicked wet with sweat. They silently slid down the honey colored skin of her cheeks and she let out a hefty breath of air. Her body relaxed in its mild frustration. The limpness of her arms followed suit as they dropped dead at either side of her lap.



Nyma: " I just can't do it. "

It was no use.

Nyma sighed in aggravation. For the last five hours and a half, the young Shaman apprentice tried desperately to tap open the veins of her inner chakras. Unfortunately, she wasn't making any headway and it was almost breakfast time. This was getting her nowhere.



High Shamaness Dalia: " Stop it. Your body is too stiff and your mind is stagnant. "

The woman crossed her arms and stared at Nyma from across the room.

High Shamaness Dalia: " You need to relax. "

Nyma: " I'm tryyying !! I'm trying. "

High Shamaness Dalia: " No. You're not. "

The feminine voice came closer from across the room and footsteps drew louder on approach. The young girl's face fell as her lips slipped into a pout. A familiar hand slid over her shoulder.

High Shamaness Dalia: " Trying to force the spirits to open up to you won't get you anywhere. Release your sense of control. Let them come to you. Let your body be the medium it is supposed to be. "



Nyma sighed. The melting color of her citrus irises grew heavy with shame. She stared down.

High Shamaness Dalia: " A conduit, to conduct and to communicate. And right now, you're no more malleable than iron ore. Clear your mind. "

She inhaled slowly as the blunt of her mother's words ran through her being like cold water. Her head hung low and she slumped where she sat. Things were tough. Her studies were starting to become more difficult as of late, she wasn't picking up as quickly as she did before. Nyma was a star pupil in the Shaman arts as a child. A prodigy! No matter how difficult it may have been for the other apprentices in her class to complete the tasks at hand, she herself always had the answer. The faint desert flower was a natural when it came to her own spirituality. However, as of late, its been hard on her. It was like a mental block was stunting her spiritual growth. A mental block that didn't seem to want to budge anytime soon. She was lacking.

She felt like a failure.

Nyma stood up from her seat. Her mother's still hand abruptly cast away as she did. Why couldn't she get it?!

High Shamaness Dalia: " Nyma ? "



Nyma: " I'm going for a walk. "

There was a colorless tone to her usually vivid lips. She sprung out the door and stormed out the room.

High Shamaness Dalia: " Nyma wait--!! "

But it was too late, her child had fled and she was left alone. Dalia stifled a disappointed sigh and made her way across the room to where she previously sat. On the floor chalk formed in a ritualistic circle with strange markings and of an unknown origin to the naked eye. Candles burned brightly in the dim lighting of the room, their wax slowly melting and caking the paneling of the wooden floor. Sacred mantras and old scrolls lay in disarray all around her.

The High Shamaness was a busy woman. One who constantly soaked in the knowledge of the spiritual realm--She prided herself on this. Dalia had wanted the same knowledge for her daughter. To teach her the ways of the Dera Munda, for they were a spiritually enlightened people. Not to mention their talents held for a greater purpose. Not many people knew this, but here in the Dera Munda, this is where the new avatar was being housed.



A child. Two years of age. A little girl.

And with everything that has been happening, the child was going to need all help, the protection, and knowledge of the spirit world as it could get. These were trying times.



High Shamaness Dalia: " Nyma . . . what am I going to do with you? "