In This Iron Ground (Natural Magic)

by Marina Vivancos

  “Hello,” she said, her kind face widening with a smile.

  “Hi,” Damien replied quietly. He sat near the woman as Mia pointed to a chair and then joined them.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Damien. My name is Nova,” the woman said. Damien nodded.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “Damien, this is the pack shaman. I know you must have a lot of questions about a lot of things, and I thought she could help answer some of them,” Mia said. Damien looked between the two women.

  “Okay,” he said. A silence stretched. “Um…what’s a shaman?” he blurted. They both smiled.

  “Good question. That’s a bit of a complicated answer. Let me start at the beginning, okay?” Nova said.

  Damien nodded.

  “I think Mia mentioned about Ousía. Is that right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How much do you know about that?”

  “Um…not much. I’d never heard the word before. Mia said it’s like your…spirit?”

  “Yes. That’s one way of putting it. Ousía is…everything in the physical world has Ousía. Objects, plants, animals, creatures. Ousía is what we call the essence of something, apart but also attached and essential to its physical form. To be something complete in the physical world, you need both the physical and the Ousía. Neither is more important than the other. One is not higher than the other. They are what makes something what it is. Something on someone’s Ousía is as unique as their physical form. It shares properties with the Ousía of similar things, but no two are the same. Does that make sense?”

  “Uh…yeah.”

  “What separates us—the shifters and the other types of people and creatures of our world—is our knowledge and our awareness of Ousía. Just as physical forms can influence each other in the physical world, Ousía can also interact. However, not everybody has the capacity to reach their Ousía or influence the Ousía of others. Those who do not know about Ousía at all, we call ‘Blinkered’.”

  “Okay…”

  “Okay. Now, stop me if any of this doesn’t make sense. Things and creatures can have different types of Ousía. Some people are conduits. They have the ability to use their own Ousía to influence the Ousía of others. People who train in this are typically called witches.”

  “Witches!”

  “Yes, witches,” Nova said, laughing.

  “Wow…”

  “Through spells and rituals, witches can perform things which are beyond the reach of the physical by influencing Ousía.”

  “Like…what can they do?”

  “Oh, the list is long. They can bond Ousía together, such as creating a pack bond. They can cage and bind. They can release. If they are particularly strong, they can influence fate, emotions…it all sounds a bit sinister, but these feats take a lot of energy. It is rare that they’re used for evil. Or, well, it’s a bit a rarer than how often people use physical or psychological means to influence others wrongly due to the knowledge and skill necessary for this, as well as the risk of exposure.”

  “Okay. Yeah. I get that.”

  “Okay.…The second type of people are called receptives. They have Ousía which can easily perceive and sense other Ousía. We call them seers, although they can also be called clairvoyants.”

  “Wow. Wow. So, like…they can see into the future?”

  “In a manner of speaking. What they can actually do is open themselves up to receive information from a vast amount of Ousía from different sources. This helps them predict what can happen. For example, if I had two chemicals in my hand and were about to mix them, and asked you what was about to happen, you would have no idea unless you knew what those chemicals are, what temperature they were at, and knew what typically happens when they are mixed. No one can truly see into the future because it doesn’t exist yet. It is knowing and understanding the present and the past that will help you see the future.”

  “Wow. That makes…so much sense.”

  “Yes. There is great balance in the Ousía.”

  “So…a shaman…?”

  “Shamans are very rare. They are those who are both receptive and conductive and who have trained in both practices. Many shamans link themselves to a shifter pack because it offers them stability to be bonded in such a way. Packs are usually tied to the land, offering additional support and, in turn, power to the shaman. In return, the shaman will prioritize the protection and wellbeing of the pack.”

  “Wow. Okay, I know I’m saying wow a lot but…wow. What about shifters?”

  “Shifters have any kind of Ousía, in terms of receptive, conductive, or passive. I’ll expand on ‘passive’ in a second. What makes shifters what they are is that their Ousía has the properties of both a human and an animal. For example, werewolves have the properties of wolves and humans. Selkies have the properties of seals and humans.”

  “Wow. Mia said that most are born but some can be…ritualized?”

  “Yes. Mostly, you have to be born as a shifter, just as someone is born a human. However, particular receptive Ousía can be melded with a particular animal by a strong witch or a shaman through a ritual. Rituals and spells are what witches and shamans use to control and direct their Ousía for a particular purpose.”

  “Okay. So…and passives?”

  “Passives are what most people, plants, and objects are. The vast majority of objects are passive, lest they be enchanted otherwise. For example, a witch can make an object receptive to make a divination tool, or they can make it conductive to serve a certain purpose. Some plants have certain Ousía qualities that aid in rituals and spells. And people—well, as I have explained, it is more common for people to be receptive or conductive than animals and plants, but, still, most are passive.”

  “So…what type of Ousía do I have?”

  “Passive, I believe.”

  “Oh,” Damien said, disappointed. For a moment he’d thought he was about to have a you’re-a-wizard-Harry moment. Still. “This is…the coolest thing that…wow. Wow.” His head was so full it could barely think. It had taken a leap to accept the existence of werewolves. But this…this sounded like magic. “Are there any other types of people or…Ousía quality or…”

  “Yes,” Nova laughed. “There are necromancers, for example, who have Ousía which are both conductive but anchored in the physical world. Meaning they cannot typically perform spells or rituals, but they can go to the land of the dead with help of a familiar—a spirit guide—without getting lost.”

  “Wow.”

  “There is more, of course. There is much to know about Ousía. About its balance and its properties. However, that would take quite a bit longer to explain.”

  “Yeah, I…I get it. I just…wow. Necromancers? What? Oh my God. I mean, sorry. I just…”

  “It’s quite alright. I’ve been born into this, but I can imagine what a revelation it must be.”

  “Yeah, I…wow. And you keep it all secret?”

  “Yes. There are safeguards for this. There is a lot of control in that respect. There are areas of the world, unknown to Blinkered, which exclusively house our folk. Strong and skilled use of Ousía must be employed to keep it so.”

  “But, like…you can’t always keep it secret. Like, I found out.”

  “Yes. And there are people who seek to hunt us, for sure. But most can be dealt with by a strong witch or shaman through memory alteration.”

  “Oh,” Damien said, feeling a little queasy at the thought that his memories could have been altered. He would have forgotten all about the Salgados.

  He’d be truly alone, then.

  “Why didn’t you…do that to me?” Damien asked. Nova looked at Mia.

  “Kephalē is wise. She chose otherwise,” Nova said. Damien looked at Mia too. His heart pounded in his chest. He felt the odd urge to cry for a moment. He tamped it down.

  “Thanks,” he said quietly. Mia smiled.

  “It has truly been my pleasure, Damien,” she said. That f
eeling inside him expanded for a moment.

  He sat there for a while, trying to process everything he had learnt. It was too big. He felt like he needed to Google everything but knew that wouldn’t help.

  “Can I…I mean, not training because I’m passive and stuff but…I’m really into plants. Do you think I could learn a little more? Not now but, you know…” Damien trailed off. Nova and Mia shared a smile.

  “Yes, Damien. I can help you gain knowledge, for I can see that Mia was right—you would only use it for good. I cannot start until summer, which I know is a bit of time away…”

  “I don’t mind. That sounds…that’s okay,” Damien rushed to say. Nova was right; it sounded an age away, but he didn’t care. He could wait.

  “It will be something both of us can look forward to,” Nova said. Damien blushed, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

  “I must apologize, but I have another stop I need to make before the night is through,” Nova said. Damien nodded quickly.

  “Yeah, of course, I…thanks. Thank you.”

  “It has been my pleasure.”

  Nova left with a hug for each of them. When the library door closed behind her, Damien looked at Mia carefully.

  “Thanks,” he repeated quietly. Mia put a hand on his head. Damien closed his eyes for a second at the affectionate gesture.

  “You are very welcome, Damien. I’m glad you’re here.”

  The words sounded true even if he couldn’t quite believe them.

  **********

  Winter slowly loosened its hold. The Spring Equinox, on the twentieth of March, fell on a Tuesday. The day was bright and clear, so crisp Damien felt it could almost give him superpowers, expand his lungs and make his sight run for miles. He had been invited to the Salgados’ after school and was met by an overexcited pair of twins and some packed lunches as they arrived.

  “It’s an Ostara—that’s the Spring Equinox—tradition. The younglings pack some lunches and hike in the forest. Nadie isn’t coming this year, because apparently she just turned a hundred,” Koko said, directing the last bit towards her sister, who ignored her.

  “Oh, cool!” Damien says. “Good luck,” he wished the others. Koko rolled her eyes.

  “You’re coming with, dumbass,” she said. Damien frowned.

  “I’m gonna slow you down though,” he protested.

  “It’s not a race,” Hakan said in a much calmer voice than Koko. Damien opened his mouth in a knee-jerk protest but decided not to look that particular gift horse in the mouth.

  The forest was beautiful. It seemed to have a personality of its own as the breeze rustled the leaves that framed the dirt path leading them up the mountain. Lallo stuck close to Damien, pointing different birds out quietly as they chirped around them, his soft voice joining in the symphony of the forest.

  “Look,” he would say quietly, and Damien would stop, following where Lallo was pointing. The bird in question was a ridiculous looking thing, a bright blue body and black head, a tuft of feathers poking backwards from his head like a feathered cap. Damien smiled down at Lallo conspiratorially.

  “It’s a Steller’s Jay,” Lallo whispered like he was sharing a secret as they watched the blue wings fly away.

  Dee, on the other hand, was her usual whirlwind self, running around them, going off into the trees, and then coming back with an energy that seemed inexhaustible. Damien didn’t want to make the comparison out loud, but she reminded him of an eager puppy chasing scent trails across new terrain.

  “Song!” Dee demanded at one point, stopping in the middle of the path some way ahead, feet braced apart and fists on her hips.

  “We don’t really know any of your songs,” Hakan replied.

  “Speak for yourself,” Koko said haughtily and, as if practiced, she started belting out Skee-Lo’s I Wish. “I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller, I wish I had a girl who looked good I would call her!”

  “Oh, God,” Hakan groaned, causing Koko to sing louder, to Dee’s delight.

  “I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat and a six-four Impala!”

  Damien laughed incredulously as Dee clapped and Hakan moaned in theatrical pain. Lallo giggled beside Damien, their joined hands swinging between them. The moment was like opening a window and letting a fresh air current through. Everything flowed around Damien, within him, and for a moment he felt larger than he was, like his particles were part of Dee’s laughter and Koko’s voice, the sound of the birds and the rustling leaves, the feel of Lallo’s hand in his, the soft look around Hakan’s eyes. This is pack, he thought, felt, inside.

  They stopped once they reached one of the widest plateaus overlooking the forest. They sat down near the edge, looking across the treetops. The sea of green below them rippled with the wind, the sky a huge and glowing backdrop of blue. Damien took a deep, cleansing breath as Lallo pressed against his leg. Damien didn’t know why the little boy had taken such a shine to him, but Damien was glad for it. There was something about children and animals liking you that felt especially honest.

  Damien turned to look at Hakan, sitting beside him with his nose tilted slightly in the air.

  “What can you smell?” Damien asked curiously.

  “Hard to put into words,” Hakan said, but he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, slowly. “The earth. Deep, rich. The trees, the dirt-like smell of the bark, the slightly bitter but fresh smell of the leaves. I can smell birds, although they don’t tend to smell too strongly, I think their feathers insulate them or something.”

  “They smell good!” Lallo piped up. Hakan shot Damien a look, wrinkling his nose as if not fully agreeing, grinning.

  “I can smell…there’s a deer. They smell like animals smell, like fur and blood, like grass. I can smell a fox. They smell good, warm. Then there’s pack. Dee smells like candy, always, even if she doesn’t have any that day. Like she would be sticky to the touch. Lallo smells like milk and cereal, Froot Loops. Like that white glue kids use from all the arts and crafts. Koko just smells like her. A bit like coconut from that moisturizer she’s been wearing for years, but, like…I don’t know. It’s a sort of sharp smell, not unpleasant but there,” Hakan said, sounding a little frustrated at having to put it into words.

  “Sharp. I like that,” Koko said, leaning back on her hands and preening. “My scent is a sword, motherfuckers.”

  “Koko! Jesus,” Hakan admonished, glancing at Lallo and Dee.

  “Don’t repeat that,” Koko instructed, pointing a finger at Dee, who was pressing her hands to her mouth, eyes twinkling with mischief. None of them doubted that she’d be saying the word later that day and blaming it on Koko. Hakan shook his head before turning to Damien again.

  “And you…you smell like us, a lot. We all smell like us—obviously, it’s all mixed up, but we have a similar base, or something, and you don’t, so the smell of us stands out more. But your scent changes quite a lot, with your emotions,” Hakan said, staring at Damien steadily in that penetrating way he had sometimes.

  Damien looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

  “When you’re calm, though, it’s…not sweet, exactly. Or yeah, kind of, but not like sugar. Like…have you ever had mango with spice? It sort of reminds me of that, but you don’t smell like that. It’s like…sweet but not sweet. Warm. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain…” His voice trailed off.

  Koko snorted. For some reason, Damien started blushing and Koko cackled.

  “Shut up, Koko,” Hakan said grumpily.

  “What do you smell like, then?” Damien asked.

  “You can’t really tell wh—”

  “Poop!” Dee shouted, cutting Hakan off, who rolled his eyes.

  “I don’t smell like—”

  “Farts!” Koko laughed.

  “Boogers!”

  “A dead monkey!”

  “Two dead monkeys!”

  “Three dead monkeys and a skunk!” Koko shouted, tilting her head back in laughter that fell
all around them. Even Lallo was giggling, pressing his grin to Damien’s side.

  “Well, I think we’ve got that one covered,” Damien teased, throwing Hakan a look, who rolled his eyes despite the smile even he had been infected with.

  When Damien turned his gaze towards the horizon, the world seemed endless.

  The memory of that day remained inside Damien, a soft, glowing thing, fragmented apart from the evening that followed.

  By the time he got to the McKenzies’ he was exhausted in the best way possible, feeling like the fresh air had cleansed him right through.

  Mrs. McKenzie didn’t agree.

  Damien didn’t have his own keys to the house, and the small talk Cameron and Mrs. McKenzie engaged in as he was dropped off sounded awkward even to him, although it never lasted long. As soon as the front door closed, however, the smile slipped off her face as she inspected Damien’s dirty clothes with a critical eye.

  “And what have you been up to, then?” She sounded more curious than anything else.

  “We went hiking,” Damien said enthusiastically as they walked towards the living room. “It’s a Salgado tradition! And they let me in on it! Every Spring Equinox, that’s when—”

  “What about your homework?” Mrs. McKenzie interrupted him.

  “What?” Damien blinked, feeling himself tense up.

  “Homework. If you’ve been off traipsing in the hills all day, when did you do your homework?” Mrs. McKenzie asked. Damien remained silent, looking at his shoes. “Well?” Mrs. McKenzie asked more sharply this time. Damien winced.

  “We, I mean, I didn’t do any today, but—”

  “Damien,” Mrs. McKenzie said with a soft, disappointed sigh that immediately put Damien on edge.

  “I didn’t do the homework that was set today, but we don’t have to give that in tomorrow. I’ve already done the homework for tomorrow, I swear, we—”

  “I’ve given you a lot of leeway, Damien. I let you go to the Salgados’ even though they invite you on school nights, don’t I?” she asked. Fear was a quick, electric bolt through Damien.

  “Yes, but—”

  “And I gave you one condition. Do your homework. Didn’t I?”