#72 pt 1
The writing is in another’s hand, neat but heavy.
The doe Eishona sleeps here, at my campfire in the plains of Mulgore after a lengthy ordeal. She wrote to me, Wooshy Skyhorn, begging for spiritual guidance and finally I have relented. Hers is a troubled spirit, though finally at peace with some of her experiences.
I will account for them here, so that she may learn from what she has gone through as sometimes a spirit quest is hard to recollect. We met in the plains in a copse of tall pines in the afternoon. She came as requested: in simple dress, and free of weapons. She came looking fatigued, with a paleness about the nose and ears. I could sense her troubles: a spirit around her that wasn’t ready to let go. Her own spirit weakened and tired from much trauma and turmoil.
It should have been a welcome meeting. Instead she collapsed at my hooves, her story blurting out in a torrent of words and tears. She was so exhausted from her trouble, I was skeptical to have her drink of the sapta I had prepared. But as one may need, she needed only to be heard, saying she had found none willing to help or hear her out aside from her teacher Vik’wa Bo. She’d been residing in Orgrimmar with her since leaving Highmountain, reading and studying the lore of our people and Kalimdor but unable to move on from her experiences.
“Vik’wa is a mage, not a shaman. She told me to find a shaman. You’re the only one I know that will actually take the time to listen. So I wrote you.” she said.
I have the letter, stored in a bag. I can recall the haphazard way it was written. But the whispers around her were more troubling than her tale - as harrowing and tragic as it was. It is my calling in life to be a Spirit Walker, a holder and speaker of spirits lingering or lost for those that might seek their wisdom. I can also soothe the restless spirit, giving them reason to pass on and find peace. I often work in that regard, as the dead sometimes need assistance in accepting their death. Humans for example, are prone to a fear of death and linger in confusion often. I have called and soothed several human spirits in my time. Most are confused and angry, some weep. The hardest is the children. Most don’t understand.
After she wept and pulled herself together I spoke of what I wanted to do - which was guide her on a vision quest and soothe whatever spirit was around her. She seemed apprehensive, but respectful. As I recall she didn’t have a spiritual upbringing. I invited her to help set up - making a ward around the campsite I’d chosen, lighting candles of lavender and peacebloom around a circle of salt. We stripped ourselves of clothing and sat before the fire, simply breathing at first before I began to speak. Consider yourself lucky, Eishona - I rare have cause to write down the words I speak for these instances.
I called out, “Come spirit, we sense your presence - speak. Be heard, because you linger and create trouble!” I made an offering to the spirit, beer and meat from a gazelle I slew that morning in to the fire. Eishona was silent, watching as I instructed her. It is important the spirit answer to the one calling it, lest it get distracted and fade away. But this one I could feel it’s presence around us before we called it. It was a determined sort, as they sometimes are.
It, rather he, came with a rush of anger, manifesting in the smoke of the fire. The flames died down at my request, allowing us to better see the smokey form. Smacking his lips as it tasted briefly the gazelle and beer. It was not a happy greeting. He raised a fist as though to strike out, causing Eish to shrink back.
“Fuck you old man! And fuck you too! You let that worgen trash kill me!” The form of a bull tauren stood in the fire, sneering at Eishona. I could see their resemblance in their faces as I watched them. I spoke briefly, allowing Eishona space to do what was needed. This spirit knew what has happened and was, as often happens, was angry.
“Spirit you linger, and trouble your sister- why? can you find no rest in the Earthmother’s warmth? Has your death angered you so?”
“Fuck the Earthmother! Left with a sister to raise instead of following my calling! She’s a waste! Look at her!”
“Weylo you stop it - he’s an elder and should be respected!” Her voice wavered, but she spoke up, gesturing in anger at the spirit of her brother. Weylo’s smokey form paused, as though caught off guard by her voice.
“No shit? Like I can’t tell he’s some old fart? big fucking deal. I should have broke your neck in Highmountain when I had the chance.”
“No, you came to take me away from something you didn’t agree with and now you’re pissed it didn’t go your way.”
There was silence as her outrage poured out in that one sentence. The spirit looked alarmed at her words. I stepped in, sprinkling a bit of soothing herbs in to the fire, causing his shape to warp and waver.
“Brother Weylo, you linger where you are not welcome. You trouble one you have harassed all her life. You should go now, go to the Earthmother and find peace.”
“What! No, I want her- she’s the reason that fucking worgen killed me. She should pay as I have!”
“You made your choice! You caused him to snap Weylo- all of this is your own fault. Now he’s gone! I can’t find him! This is your fault! Go away. You are not welcome.”
“As she says spirit, you are not welcome here. Go now in to the way of the ancestors.”
“Eish no-” His form was starting to take on a wispier effect, tendrils of smoke arcing up in to the sky. His voice was worried. In this guise a spirit cannot physically harm a person, but the effect of seeing your dead sibling can upset the mind. But to her credit she stayed strong, saying what needed to be said, which was that the spirit should begone.
It’s at this point I can take a spirit inside of myself if it’s necessary - it’s at my own discretion. This one didn’t know this, because I had a feeling if it knew it would have tried. It is a cautious thing, being the vessel to spirits. Instead I had to banish this one, forcing him away from the doe he was so drawn to.
“Begone Weylo Dusthoof - your time has come. Go you now in to the bosom of the Earthmother. Find peace there.” I started to wink out the candles, crossing the salt circle. Eishona stood, speaking firmly, “Go away Weylo. You’ll not trouble me again. Find peace in your death.”
The spirit of Weylo gave a keening moan before starting to fade away in the early evening air. “Im sorry- I don’t want to go- can’t I stay?”
“No Weylo- go away.”
“Eish..”
He left, surprisingly. We watched the smoke from the fire swirl up as his form faded away. I anticipated a harder time with him, based on what I had heard of him. He sounded like a deeply troubled bull that needed help. Now he leaves his sister to heal. She stood there for a long time, not speaking, merely looking at the flames as the fire cracked and popped. Carefully I swept up the salt, burying it with an offering to the Earthmother - corn and honey, as is suitable. I lit sticks of soothing incense, cleansing the air between us.
“You have done a hard thing, Eishona. We were lucky he was so angry. A more determined spirit would have tried to find a home. You surprised him.”
“I feel so weak.”
“You haven’t eaten and confronted your tormentor - that’s what he was girl, an abuser. He is gone now. Take water, but eat nothing. The next part of your ordeal is yet to come.”
“What do you mean?”
“You seek spiritual guidance do you not?”
“Su- such as it is, yes. I do.”
“Then you will drink of a potion I have brewed. Your spirit and mind will travel. You will be here in safety with me here in the plains. You will encounter things you cannot put to name, they could change you. You could find a ritual name. But it all happens within. The Earthmother guides us throughout.”
She was silent for a long time before finally nodding, “I was not raised to believe in spirits, or the Earthmother, but I am ready to listen now. I want to learn- please.”
I will write more of her ordeal later, or she will. Whichever comes first. Hers was intense. I suspect she’ll sleep this day away. I will let her be, as one should come back from a spirit quest on their own when it can be allowed.
The doe Eishona sleeps here, at my campfire in the plains of Mulgore after a lengthy ordeal. She wrote to me, Wooshy Skyhorn, begging for spiritual guidance and finally I have relented. Hers is a troubled spirit, though finally at peace with some of her experiences.
I will account for them here, so that she may learn from what she has gone through as sometimes a spirit quest is hard to recollect. We met in the plains in a copse of tall pines in the afternoon. She came as requested: in simple dress, and free of weapons. She came looking fatigued, with a paleness about the nose and ears. I could sense her troubles: a spirit around her that wasn’t ready to let go. Her own spirit weakened and tired from much trauma and turmoil.
It should have been a welcome meeting. Instead she collapsed at my hooves, her story blurting out in a torrent of words and tears. She was so exhausted from her trouble, I was skeptical to have her drink of the sapta I had prepared. But as one may need, she needed only to be heard, saying she had found none willing to help or hear her out aside from her teacher Vik’wa Bo. She’d been residing in Orgrimmar with her since leaving Highmountain, reading and studying the lore of our people and Kalimdor but unable to move on from her experiences.
“Vik’wa is a mage, not a shaman. She told me to find a shaman. You’re the only one I know that will actually take the time to listen. So I wrote you.” she said.
I have the letter, stored in a bag. I can recall the haphazard way it was written. But the whispers around her were more troubling than her tale - as harrowing and tragic as it was. It is my calling in life to be a Spirit Walker, a holder and speaker of spirits lingering or lost for those that might seek their wisdom. I can also soothe the restless spirit, giving them reason to pass on and find peace. I often work in that regard, as the dead sometimes need assistance in accepting their death. Humans for example, are prone to a fear of death and linger in confusion often. I have called and soothed several human spirits in my time. Most are confused and angry, some weep. The hardest is the children. Most don’t understand.
After she wept and pulled herself together I spoke of what I wanted to do - which was guide her on a vision quest and soothe whatever spirit was around her. She seemed apprehensive, but respectful. As I recall she didn’t have a spiritual upbringing. I invited her to help set up - making a ward around the campsite I’d chosen, lighting candles of lavender and peacebloom around a circle of salt. We stripped ourselves of clothing and sat before the fire, simply breathing at first before I began to speak. Consider yourself lucky, Eishona - I rare have cause to write down the words I speak for these instances.
I called out, “Come spirit, we sense your presence - speak. Be heard, because you linger and create trouble!” I made an offering to the spirit, beer and meat from a gazelle I slew that morning in to the fire. Eishona was silent, watching as I instructed her. It is important the spirit answer to the one calling it, lest it get distracted and fade away. But this one I could feel it’s presence around us before we called it. It was a determined sort, as they sometimes are.
It, rather he, came with a rush of anger, manifesting in the smoke of the fire. The flames died down at my request, allowing us to better see the smokey form. Smacking his lips as it tasted briefly the gazelle and beer. It was not a happy greeting. He raised a fist as though to strike out, causing Eish to shrink back.
“Fuck you old man! And fuck you too! You let that worgen trash kill me!” The form of a bull tauren stood in the fire, sneering at Eishona. I could see their resemblance in their faces as I watched them. I spoke briefly, allowing Eishona space to do what was needed. This spirit knew what has happened and was, as often happens, was angry.
“Spirit you linger, and trouble your sister- why? can you find no rest in the Earthmother’s warmth? Has your death angered you so?”
“Fuck the Earthmother! Left with a sister to raise instead of following my calling! She’s a waste! Look at her!”
“Weylo you stop it - he’s an elder and should be respected!” Her voice wavered, but she spoke up, gesturing in anger at the spirit of her brother. Weylo’s smokey form paused, as though caught off guard by her voice.
“No shit? Like I can’t tell he’s some old fart? big fucking deal. I should have broke your neck in Highmountain when I had the chance.”
“No, you came to take me away from something you didn’t agree with and now you’re pissed it didn’t go your way.”
There was silence as her outrage poured out in that one sentence. The spirit looked alarmed at her words. I stepped in, sprinkling a bit of soothing herbs in to the fire, causing his shape to warp and waver.
“Brother Weylo, you linger where you are not welcome. You trouble one you have harassed all her life. You should go now, go to the Earthmother and find peace.”
“What! No, I want her- she’s the reason that fucking worgen killed me. She should pay as I have!”
“You made your choice! You caused him to snap Weylo- all of this is your own fault. Now he’s gone! I can’t find him! This is your fault! Go away. You are not welcome.”
“As she says spirit, you are not welcome here. Go now in to the way of the ancestors.”
“Eish no-” His form was starting to take on a wispier effect, tendrils of smoke arcing up in to the sky. His voice was worried. In this guise a spirit cannot physically harm a person, but the effect of seeing your dead sibling can upset the mind. But to her credit she stayed strong, saying what needed to be said, which was that the spirit should begone.
It’s at this point I can take a spirit inside of myself if it’s necessary - it’s at my own discretion. This one didn’t know this, because I had a feeling if it knew it would have tried. It is a cautious thing, being the vessel to spirits. Instead I had to banish this one, forcing him away from the doe he was so drawn to.
“Begone Weylo Dusthoof - your time has come. Go you now in to the bosom of the Earthmother. Find peace there.” I started to wink out the candles, crossing the salt circle. Eishona stood, speaking firmly, “Go away Weylo. You’ll not trouble me again. Find peace in your death.”
The spirit of Weylo gave a keening moan before starting to fade away in the early evening air. “Im sorry- I don’t want to go- can’t I stay?”
“No Weylo- go away.”
“Eish..”
He left, surprisingly. We watched the smoke from the fire swirl up as his form faded away. I anticipated a harder time with him, based on what I had heard of him. He sounded like a deeply troubled bull that needed help. Now he leaves his sister to heal. She stood there for a long time, not speaking, merely looking at the flames as the fire cracked and popped. Carefully I swept up the salt, burying it with an offering to the Earthmother - corn and honey, as is suitable. I lit sticks of soothing incense, cleansing the air between us.
“You have done a hard thing, Eishona. We were lucky he was so angry. A more determined spirit would have tried to find a home. You surprised him.”
“I feel so weak.”
“You haven’t eaten and confronted your tormentor - that’s what he was girl, an abuser. He is gone now. Take water, but eat nothing. The next part of your ordeal is yet to come.”
“What do you mean?”
“You seek spiritual guidance do you not?”
“Su- such as it is, yes. I do.”
“Then you will drink of a potion I have brewed. Your spirit and mind will travel. You will be here in safety with me here in the plains. You will encounter things you cannot put to name, they could change you. You could find a ritual name. But it all happens within. The Earthmother guides us throughout.”
She was silent for a long time before finally nodding, “I was not raised to believe in spirits, or the Earthmother, but I am ready to listen now. I want to learn- please.”
I will write more of her ordeal later, or she will. Whichever comes first. Hers was intense. I suspect she’ll sleep this day away. I will let her be, as one should come back from a spirit quest on their own when it can be allowed.
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