The Ten Guardians: The Mother Tree©

Chapter Five

Grey was sitting cross-legged while holding a ball of lightning above her hand as it created shadows in the dark forest around their campfire. She broke the ball into smaller shards and made them crawl across her arm like caterpillars, inching along her arm and shoulder before fading away. She started over again with the ball of energy spinning in the air, floating around her like a planet as if she were the sun. She added different-sized balls of energy around her, subconsciously creating part of the solar system their planet was part of without knowing she possessed the knowledge to do so.

She smiled as she controlled the energy, thoroughly enjoying the ability to use magic uninhibited. Biggs had come to her at such a young age, just as her dream walking ability had started to appear. She barely remembered being able to do anything other than dream walk, which was the one thing Biggs couldn’t control, but there was a time she could cast spells. Biggs had ended that for her without her knowledge. He used her magic as fuel while using his magic to appear to solve her problems, creating a dependency on him.

Grey was lucky, though. She was fully aware of the otherworldly blessing bestowed upon her. Dream walkers were always strong in magic, stronger than average, but she had never been able to apply her education to using magic. Instead of having to start over and figure out how to control basic spells again, then advance like any other human mage, she was given the power of a guardian. There were no spells to apply or memorize, no incantations or ingredients needed. She thought about what she wanted the arcane power to do, and it happened. 

However, her control over electricity wasn’t as total as Colson’s over water. He had lived a lifetime having magic that would only work on water, so being the guardian of water was second nature to him. On the other hand, Grey was new to using magic in any form. She knew she would have total control over her abilities in time, but for now, she had to stop the lightning from touching her recently cut shoulder-length hair as it immediately flared and spiked in all directions from the static.

Grey absentmindedly ran her hand through her short, auburn hair. She enjoyed how soft it was, a sensation she hadn’t felt in years. Her mind wandered to the night she had decided to cut her hair, the same day she had become a guardian. She had studied psychology in school, though her classes were electives and not her focus of study as it had been for Jareth. That education had given her some insights into herself, insights which may have been obvious to someone else but were complex building blocks for someone in her position. Between the curse given to her by the fallen guardians and Biggs’ invisible claws feeding off her abilities and emotions, she was somewhat damaged. She needed time to heal, to feel whole again. She deserved to feel whole again and wanted something to symbolize her dedication to herself.

At the time, she still had her veil attached to her collar, permanently sewn there, hanging next to her long braid as it had been for years. She still felt satisfaction remembering the tearing sound the veil had made when she ripped it from her dress and threw it into the fire, symbolically cutting ties with Biggs and the trauma of that experience. She knew she needed time to heal and find herself again, but watching that veil burn, watching what it represented to her turn into ash and smoke, was cathartic.

She had lived as a cursed woman with only Biggs for companionship for so long that she had lost the habit of certain things. She did not own any makeup. What was the point when any man that looked at her would try to kill themselves or attack her on sight? She also couldn’t remember the last time she had cut her hair. She had brushed it and kept it pulled away from her face in braids, but this was for efficiency and to not interfere with the veil she used to wear. After feeling the change in herself from burning her veil, she decided she wanted something else to represent her new beginning, and her hair immediately came to mind. So she used the knife at her waist to cut her hair at the shoulder and added the braid to the flames.

She also had very little clothing and nothing suited for rugged travel. Grey admitted it was highly impractical, but she had only owned a handful of basic dresses and no shoes of any kind. Shopping was never an option as the warlocks and jackals were the only people she had ever seen south of Dule Van, and the seat of pants wore out much faster than a dress. Also, dresses covered far more of your body and were typically less revealing and clingy than pants and shirts, another concern when cursed as she had been.

Biggs had typically done minor repairs on her clothing but had been concerned about wasting his energy on significant alterations. At the time, he had deluded her into thinking it was beyond his abilities, but now she knew the truth. He was a selfish vampire and didn’t care for her in the slightest. Thankfully, Grey and Izreea were roughly the same sizes, so Izreea gave her a spare pair of shoes and pants. The shoes were a little big, but an extra cloth lining did the trick to make them wearable.

Jonathan had magically changed the fur skins on his body into basic traveling clothes and did not have a spare set, so Izreea had provided one of Jareth’s extra shirts for Grey to use. Grey tried using Izreea’s emergency sewing kit to alter the shirt but quickly gave up in frustration. Sewing was far too tedious a task for someone as temperamental as her. Izreea had gratefully interfered and helped her with the sewing task.

It had occurred to both women that either of them could have magically altered the clothing without needing a needle, but neither wanted to mention the fact to the other. Grey was worried she would mess up the spell since she was so new to magic, and Izreea was afraid she would accidentally injure her unborn child. Izreea knew the thought was silly; she had complete control over whether or not she used her mathenetal, the stored magical energy needed to create and grow her child. She could also use magic from nature around her, or even from her scythes, without risking her mathenetal, but the thought persisted.

There was a bond forming between Grey and Izreea, something that had begun with the news of Izreea’s pregnancy. Her pregnancy being revealed had given Grey the strength to throw Biggs’ shackles from her mind and gave her the control she needed to help fight Donner and Regnan.

Facing Izreea without the heightened emotions Biggs had forced upon her made Grey realize she had moved on from her relationship with Jareth. Their relationship had ended decades ago when they were still in their youth, and it had occurred to Grey that Biggs may have already been influencing her emotions at that time. It made sense that she was challenging to be around, more so than a typical high-strung youth. She couldn’t blame Jareth for not keeping in touch when he transferred to Dule Van, and it was time for her to move on as well.

“Careful where you’re swinging that planet,” Jonathan called out from his seat on the other side of the fire.

Grey had accidentally started to mimic the movement of their solar system a little too perfectly, edging balls of energy into their actual arcs, bringing them close to the ground around them. None of the balls were close to Jonathan, but one was about to collide with Drock, the lifeless shell, sitting a safe distance from the fire while passively staring at her. Grey could no longer feel any pain from electricity, so it was difficult to remember to be careful with its energy.

Grey pulled all the energy into herself, her runes absorbing the power for later use. The moment her runes winked out, Drock returned to staring at the fire at the center of the camp. The fire was magical, with extra layers of potency woven into the simple spell to keep Drock’s attention. Thanks to the alterations Life made to Drock, he no longer tried to touch or seek sources of magic. Even still, the group decided to create a lure for him with their fire every night.

Grey put her arms in the air and arched her back, groaning as her muscles stretched, a smile on her face as she fell backward into the soft grass to stare up at the stars. She was genuinely happy for the first time in a very long time, and even more so because someone wasn’t feeding off of her happiness.

Jonathan stood and stretched his legs. His beautiful, aching, human legs that he never wanted to be without again. They had traveled hard for almost two weeks, pressing themselves to travel as far as they could each day. Jonathan was lucky that the familiar, who had lived life as a druid in his body all those years, had kept in excellent condition. Grey’s rune-enhanced body barely felt any fatigue, and Izreea was a dardwain who naturally had more stamina than humans, even when pregnant. It took all of Jonathan’s strength to keep up with the two of them.

On the other hand, Jareth was not used to hard travel on foot. He kept himself fit but did not have the conditions lungs or muscles of his active spouse. He taught at a school most of the time, often sitting at a desk, and traveled by horse whenever he had to travel outside the city. He moved as fast as he could, pushing himself as hard as possible, but could see he was holding the others back.

Jareth knew that his endurance would grow in time, and he could already feel the journey and pace growing easier. However, Izreea still had to help him periodically with her medical talents to keep him moving. She could have magically given him strength like she had done with Sparrow before they left Dule Van, which felt like a lifetime ago, but she was still wary of using magic. She had tried to have a child for so long and wasn’t about to take any unnecessary risks. Jareth would have to make do with herbs and poultices for his aching muscles and blisters.

Jareth thought of asking his brother to help with his fatigue so the group could move faster, but then he remembered Jonathan’s crude attempt at healing his ribs and thought better of it. He also thought of asking Grey for help. Basic healing was easily within her magical strengths as a human and as simple as a thought for a guardian, but they had not spoken since their journey had begun. They exchanged pleasantries and were overly polite to one another in all group interactions, but there was no real conversation or discussion between them. Asking for healing felt too personal of a request considering their unresolved past.

Izreea had told them separately to grow up, but there was never a good moment to discuss their past without an audience present. Jareth was always too tired at the end of the day to stay up and discuss anything and went straight to bed as soon as camp was set. He could also see that Izreea and Grey were getting along and somehow felt that this was good enough for him, at least for the moment.

Jonathan could no longer see Grey, thanks to the fire between them, but he could not help but smile a little himself. He had also known Grey all those years ago. He was younger than her and Jareth by a few years, so she had treated him like a kid brother for the most part. They sometimes argued because they were both headstrong, passionate, and liked to debate, but they still got along well enough at the time. They were also part of the same declared kentor and enjoyed discussing research and history.

Jonathan still remembered when she changed. She was charming and fun to be around one moment, even when arguing. Then she was suddenly jealous, brooding, and angry all of the time. Her studies floundered, and her friendships dissolved. Looking at her wrong would cause her to berate you, claiming ill intent with nothing but your eyes. Jareth didn’t know what was happening, and Jonathan was clueless about women then. Their transfer to Dule Van couldn’t have been timelier. In hindsight, the timing even seemed suspicious, although it changed nothing. It was so long ago, and nothing could be done about it.

Jonathan was still shocked when he looked at Grey. It had been decades since he had last seen her, but she still looked like she was barely an adult. Using magic significantly reduced the aging process for humans, putting it more in line with the aging of the dardwain, the offspring of magic itself. Another mage could see the effects of slowed aging, a type of hidden wisdom and maturity underneath their youthful exterior. Jonathan and Grey were technically in their sixties, although physically, Jonathan appeared to be in his early thirties.

On the other hand, Grey should look older to those who knew what to look for, but she didn’t. Jonathan should be able to see her true age in her mannerisms and speech patterns, hidden beneath the youthful exterior. Yet all he saw when he looked at her was the fully matured version of the beautiful young adult he started school with in Bree. A broken woman who had been given the chance to start life over with the powers of an immortal at her fingertips.

Jonathan thought the whole concept was ridiculous and ironic at the same time. She was a child compared to the maturity of those around her, yet she was to rule over lightning as a guardian of the world. She couldn’t even control her fizzy hair or alter a shirt without electrifying the needle like it was to blame for her incompetence. Yet, she was to protect an entire planet.

The ironic side of it was Grey’s second chance at life. She had been robbed, more so than the five years Jonathan had to endure in the body of a bird. She had spent decades with a leech sucking her dry, pumping emotions into her like he was priming a well to drink from. Then when it was assumed that Biggs was close to being discovered by the human magi, he compelled her to live with warlocks in seclusion. Then her curse was gifted to her by their leaders, the guardians in disguise, which cemented her dependency on Biggs. Jonathan felt a kinship to her suffering for what he had to endure with the loss of his body. If Myrum hadn’t put an arrow in Biggs’ brain, Jonathan would have hunted him down and killed him all over again.

Grey suddenly sat up, the runes across her body flaring to life as her eyes locked onto his. It was apparent that he had been staring at the space where she had been sitting, deep in thought, and she assumed it was about her.

“What are you thinking about, Jon?” Grey asked softly, a slightly defensive edge to her voice.

Jonathan paused a moment before responding. His natural disposition was sarcastic criticism. Jareth called it his “defense mechanism,” while Izreea called him an “argumentative piglet.” His trial as a bird had significantly worsened those qualities in him, but he had mellowed slightly since receiving his body back. It was still difficult to backpedal from so many years of bitterness, something he knew Grey was struggling with as well.

At the beginning of their journey, Grey and Jonathan had often butt heads. Both had strong personalities, and each was exploring the environment of their newly acquired freedoms. Jareth was the master of the mental kentor at Dule Van, and Izreea was a member of the healing kentor, so Jonathan had sought out their advice. It was unnatural to him, but both of them recommended treating her like a new person and not the Grey he had known all those years ago. They also strongly emphasized her distrust and trauma involving men, even if it was orchestrated by Biggs, and trying to be honest and less sarcastic in general.

The runes on Grey’s body seemed to brighten as she waited for Jonathan’s response, hastening his reply.

“I was thinking about Biggs.”

“What about him,” she asked softly, her emotions impossible to read.

“If you must know, I was thinking about how I would hunt him down and kill him if Myrum hadn’t already done so,” he replied neutrally, unsure how she would respond.

There was a moment of hesitation as Grey thought about what he was saying, the runes on her body slowly fading as she processed. Jonathan didn’t think she could control their appearance. The runes seemed to react to her emotions, ready to fry alive those that disagree or offend, and fade away when she calms down. Thankfully no one had been fried yet.

“Thank you … I think,” she replied hesitantly before continuing, “I’m sorry, I’m still learning how to feel … anything really, at normal levels. I spent so long being angry at so many things, including you for some reason, that it’s hard to turn those instincts off.”

“Like I did …” Jonathan trailed off as he realized he had been about to turn the tables on her and start an argument for no reason. She was being sincere, apologizing, and trying … the least he could do was try as well.

She was looking at him expectantly, walls beginning to form again, when he surprised her by starting over.

“Grey McShemmon, forgive me. I have also developed instincts over the years that are hard to break. I was so used to being miserable and feeling sorry for myself that I forgot what it was like to be happy,” he replied.

She smiled back in reply, enjoying the comfort of another damaged soul. Then there was an awkward silence as neither of them knew how to proceed. Should they continue to try and be polite and nice to one another? Jonathan thought to himself. What’s the fun in that?

“So … some weather we are having,” Jonathan said to the guardian of lightning with just the right amount of awkwardness and sarcasm to break the ice.

Grey laughed at his joke for a moment before raising her hand in the air, pulling and stirring the clouds high above them. Her runes glowed as she used her powers to churn the newly formed clouds, then she brought her hand down, and a bolt of lightning struck a high hill a few hundred paces from them with the sound of a tree exploding. A massive clap of thunder hit them as Jonathan’s mouth dropped open from shock. Grey started laughing as if she had told the funniest thing in the world.

“It was just a joke, Grey,” Jonathan said hesitantly, eyes a little wide as he lowered his hands from when he had covered his ears from the deafening noise.

Although the runes appearance alone did not cause Drock to look at Grey, using her powers certainly did. He ignored the sound and light from the bolt of lightning as his eyes locked onto Grey.

“I know! Funny, right?” She replied while laughing, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort.

Jonathan chuckled softly, respecting the awkward humor of the moment but still not fully comfortable with her flinging bolts of lightning around for comedic relief. The irony of his discomfort involving random lightning bolts was lost on him. Grey deactivated her runes as Drock’s eyes returned to the fire.

The exploding tree and resulting thunder had woken Jareth, who had only been asleep next to Izreea for about an hour. He darted out of their small lean-to, tripping on one of the anchor cords in his haste. His magical staff was in his hand, and the green glow of the active earth runes lit the campsite around them as he connected with the weapon, circling as he looked for the source of the explosion.

Grey had the look of a guilty teenager trying not to laugh at their prank. Her hand was over her mouth as she giggled, her runes pulsing with her laughter, crackling lightning over her skin and causing her hair to start to float off her shoulder from the static.

Jareth noticed her laughter and Jonathan’s shocked face and could see the tendrils of fire and smoke from a tree burning in the distance. He quickly gathered what had happened, or at least that Grey was the cause of the noise, and his eyes locked onto hers. His eyes were intense, exhaustion and fatigue creating a wide-eyed but beady look of confusion and fury on his face. Before he could say anything, Grey’s laughter fizzled, and she immediately went on the defensive.

“Izreea told me how he would shock her with his lightning as he appeared out of nowhere! He deserved the scare,” Grey said as if that would explain everything, pure defiance in her voice as she matched stares with her old flame from decades past.

Jonathan could see that his brother was on edge. Jareth was usually the calm and calculated one, extra observant and patient to a fault, but even he had his limits. Being pushed to physical exhaustion for every waking moment for so long had taken its toll.

“I’ll fix it, Jareth. Go back to sleep,” Jonathan said as he stood up, intent on heading to the tree to put out the fire.

In response, Jareth turned towards the smoldering tree at the top of the hill. He temporarily pierced the protective warding barrier around the camp and forcefully smacked the bottom of his staff against the earth in that direction. A large wave of energy sped toward the lightning strike, with the ground moving and shifting where it traveled. The ground was fully restored as it passed by, and the wave’s glow was bright enough that the party could see what was happening when it reached the tree. The fire instantly snuffed out, and the ground pulled back into itself. What was left of the tree shot out of the ground, growing and growing until it was three times the size of the trees around it.

Jareth turned back in anger, not sure what he was going to say, but Izreea was standing between him and Grey, looking up at the newly formed tree with wonder in her eyes. Her appearance had startled him, and her raptured face over the tree he had angrily created mollified the anger he had been feeling.

“What is it, Izzy?” he asked her with a weary but confused tone.

“You … you made an Elder tree with your staff, Jareth! An Elder tree!” Izreea said with uncontrolled excitement as she grabbed his arm.

Jareth knew what an Elder tree was but wasn’t sure why its appearance was so impactful to Izreea. He held his hands wide and shook his head, turning to Jonathan for help. Jonathan was the researcher and seemed to know a little bit about everything. He quieted the alarm in his mind from his ward-stone barrier being breached before responding.

“The Dardwain used to live in massive trees before they withdrew to their underwater kingdom, and I believe every kanidian grove has an Elder tree at its center,” Jonathan replied without emotion.

“It’s more than that,” Grey chimed in with disdain at Jonathan while coming to her feet to get a better look at the tree. “Elder trees don’t have seeds. There hasn’t been a new one in thousands of years.”

Jareth lifted the staff, staring at it with curiosity as he spoke his thoughts.

“Well, this staff was made by Life, who is the creator of all living things. I assume Elder trees were common when she last ruled this world, so I guess we shouldn’t be surprised when my intention to restore a fallen tree … turned it into the tree she was used to making.”

Jareth looked up from the staff to find Izreea walking towards the tree, slowing down as she approached the ring of glowing ward stones that Jonathan had etched into stones in a circle around their camp. Izreea could have easily slid out of the circle if she had chosen to use magic, which was significantly easier than sliding back into the circle, but she was still being cautious with using magic. She waited patiently for Jonathan to lower the wards, eyes still locked on the tree in the distance.

“Wait, please,” Jareth said while catching up to her. His voice betrayed his weariness, and he was limping from the newest blister that had formed from their daily march. “The sun is almost gone. Let’s take a look in the morning before we embark for the day.”

Izreea could see that her husband was right, the sun was now gone from sight, and the tree was barely an outline of what it had been moments before. Izreea was disappointed at delaying the chance to see a new Elder tree up close, but it would be all the more rewarding in the light of day. Although she wasn’t far along in her pregnancy, she was still exhausted, and the thought of sleep pulled at her. With an impatient sigh, Izreea looped her arm through Jareth’s arm, and the two of them returned to their bedrolls.

Jonathan and Grey had followed them to the edge of the campsite, and now both stood awkwardly staring into the darkness where the Elder tree used to be visible. After a tense moment, Jonathan bowed slightly and offered an arm to Grey to escort her the ten paces back to their campfire. It would have been charming if Jonathan hadn’t pulled a tired face and bent his knee in mockery of his brother’s fatigue and injury. Grey rolled her eyes and shook her head as she walked to her bedroll on her own. She fell into the bedding and immediately rolled away from the fire and the direction of Jonathan.

Drock was looking at the backs of Jareth and Izreea as they returned to their beds under their lean-to, but as soon as Izreea and her magically gestating baby were out of sight, his head turned to stare at the fire once more. He would sit there all night long, not needing sleep. Jareth joked he could be a decoy if someone breached the wards, thinking one of them was awake.

Jonathan was taken aback by Grey’s response and wasn’t in the mood to go to sleep. He decided to slide past his circle of wards and head to the Elder tree on his own. What he had told his brother about Elder trees was pretty much the extent of his knowledge concerning them, but there was something else tickling the back of his mind concerning the tree. He wasn’t sure if it was a forgotten memory from a school lesson or something he had read in a book, but it felt important enough to risk the short walk alone in the dark. He wasn’t worried about getting lost. The tree wasn’t that far from camp, well within eyesight of the light of the campfire. He had bent the air around the campsite as part of his circle of wards, hiding it from sight, but since it was his magic, he could see through it at will. If, for some reason, that didn’t work, he could always feel the power of the wards to guide him back.

Jonathan thought he would be uncomfortable walking in an unfamiliar forest, alone, in the dark, but he felt nothing but peace as he walked. The moon and stars had taken dominance of the sky, outlining the towering tree with its soft light. He found comfort in knowing the tree was near and a small surge of excitement at their upcoming greeting.

“What is wrong with me?” Jonathan blurted out in shock while slapping his forehead and shaking his head as if his thoughts and feelings would tumble out of his ears.

Jonathan stood there in silence for some time, searching inwardly for the source of this sudden surge of calm and peace. Everything about this situation was the opposite of his typical personality. He didn’t find peace in walking alone in the dark. He didn’t greet trees. He was sarcastic and negative and a creature of comfort. He liked research and hard facts and evidence and felt disdain for the connection to nature Izreea flaunted in his face. Or at least he used to before a familiar had inhabited his body and was trained to be a shapeshifting druid. He could feel memories from the past five years, although he could not yet remember them, taunting him through a mental haze he couldn’t penetrate.

The feeling of peace reached for him, slowing his breathing, calming his thoughts, and softening his heart. There was a direction the peace was coming from, and Jonathan followed it, walking again towards the Elder tree. After a short walk, Jonathan stood before the tree. He could barely see anything standing in the shadow of the tree cast by the moon’s light, but he felt its presence. He knew this tree was alive and ancient, regardless of how newly formed its body was.

Jonathan felt overwhelmed, similar to when he stood before Life, the mother of all creation, in the void. It wasn’t quite as unsettling, though, because of the situation. At that point in their journey, Jonathan had mistakenly possessed his brother’s body instead of Drock’s soulless one, turning him into a half-lich creature. Jonathan’s temperament had mollified since rejoining his body, and he had done his best to make amends with his family members.

Jonathan fell to his knees, and his left hand rose to touch the tree. As his hand moved, a memory came unbidden to his mind of him doing this exact same thing with another Elder tree. As Jonathan’s hand touched the bark of the massive tree, his mind connected with that of the tree.

There was no voice, language, or words, but there was still an attempt at communication, like pure thought which flowed within its own concepts. It was impossible to communicate in the traditional sense as Jonathan’s thoughts were drowned out by the immense presence and copious layers of thoughts entering his mind. He was overwhelmed, his reality shifting to mingle with that of the tree, and he tried to hold on to who he was. Underneath it all was that same sense of peace within his heart, as if the tree earnestly sought his company, urging him to communicate.

Jonathan was again reminded of how he felt in the presence of Life. He had been a bitter, self-centered, egotistical man trapped in his brother’s body he had tried to steal, completely unworthy of the attention of one such as her … but he felt this same peace. He grabbed onto the peace and didn’t want to let go of it, but it wasn’t enough. He was losing the battle for his sanity to a stupid tree.

Thinking of Life made him remember the magical staff she had gifted to him, even if it wasn’t in person, and he held out his hand toward the campsite. Jonathan felt the staff and pulled at it, willing it to come to him. He wasn’t sure if he sought it for a weapon to fight the tree or an anchor to try and set himself free, but he felt it was his last chance at sanity. The staff flew through the air and landed in his hand. The moment he felt it touch his skin, his thoughts aligned with the peace he felt inside his heart, and he stood up with a smile on his face.

Jonathan found himself in a room without walls or floor or ceiling, even though he felt like he was standing on something solid. There were no edges or depth to anything around him, yet he felt like he was in a tunnel of some kind that stretched endlessly in all directions. He had no shadow, his staff was gone, and his clothes had changed into a basic white robe. There was a slight tinge of green in the room but no other colors. As he looked around in bewilderment, he heard a voice.

“It is good to see you again, my friend,” the voice said with kindness. It seemed to resonate all around him as if it came from the air but was not loud or oppressive. The voice sounded masculine and feminine at the same time while still sounding like one person was speaking.

Jonathan didn’t respond at first, unsure of what to do with the new information presented to him. He had no memory of this place, but it felt familiar. He should have been freaking out, but he felt nothing but peace. He knew his body wasn’t actually here, but he also felt like he only existed in this place. He was very confused.

Sensing his uncertainty, the voice continued, “The druid warned me that this might happen when your original soul was restored. Your body and I have met, so the memories are there, but you did not form them, so you have to grow the access points to obtain them. All it takes is time and experience, but eventually, you will remember.”

“So, the familiar who had my body … visited you in a place like this?” Jonathan asked cautiously, still piecing the information together as he sifted through his emotions.

“Not like this place, but here,” the voice responded.

“But this tree was newly formed minutes ago … I don’t understand,” was all Jonathan could think to say in return.

The voice laughed softly before speaking again, “You have said as much in the past, and I will explain again. Although you did not fully understand the last we spoke of it, I feel the change that has taken place within you. Maybe you have been enlightened enough to understand.”

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