Chapter 7 - Kiema

Finally, the pulsing black magic of Ransom's spirit was encased in my own. All around me, the brilliant flashes of pain died down to the normal bland stillness of the magical landscape. The myriad of colors faded as if bleached by the sun.

I felt my magical essence shudder and waver as if a spectral hand had shifted through my physical form. I stilled. That had never happened to me either. Everything about this stupid ritual was fucked: upward, backward, and sideways.

The fading colors flared to life once more. Like the blinding sun had slipped behind a cloud, the colors seeped back into Ransom's spirit.

Just as quickly as it started, the colors died away again.

The vast field of gray filled my vision once more. If I'd had shoulders in this form, they would've settled down into their normal position. If my heart still beat in this form, it would have slowed.

This was familiar. This I could do while sleeping.

I inspected the rest of Ransom's body. The same slightly sickly gray of every person I'd ever healed stretched before me. But for the life of me, I couldn't find what might have been causing his illness.

Oh well. I'd try again later.

Readying myself to pay the price for being a healer, I performed the ritual and began the process of returning to my own body.

One body, one spirit.

One body, one spirit.

One body, one spirit.

My body, my spirit.

My body, my spirit.

Thank you, Gaia.

My body, my spirit.

Like shoving a foot into a shoe that's two sizes too small, I blinked as I settled back into my physical form. Opening my eyes, I was still standing next to Ransom, my hand on his arm.

Turning, I ran toward the closest bathroom.

I scarcely knelt before the toilet before I emptied my stomach into its porcelain depths.