With the first breath of smoke, Thomas felt the world receding. By the time Mr. Ericson was calling for his release, Thomas only heard a distant echo. He was in a world that seemed to consist of nothing but an almost white shade of gray. Soon he saw the shape of a man, almost transparent but shaded. Almost as if a sculpture had shadows cast on it by the sun, then the sculpture was removed, but the shadows remained. This phantom was calmly walking towards Thomas, but seemed to be moving much faster than its stride would suggest. As it approached, Thomas recognized it as Richard Grant, the last Shaman instructor of the Green Key school.
"Welcome, Shaman," said Grant. "I've been waiting a long time to speak with you."
"Me?" Asked Thomas.
"Well, for the next Shaman to train at the school, anyway," said Grant, with a grin. "I'm pleased you've grown strong enough to hear the elementals voices. That was the weakest point of my plan."
"Your plan?"
"To restart Shaman training. The war decimated the Shamans. The hate had grown so great that it would likely be decades before the Shamans could rebuild. I knew that there would likely not be many Shaman able to teach by the end. So, I made my plan. I left enough materials to give an emergent Shaman the tools to begin his studies, then when his connection was strong enough, the elementals would be able to bring him to me. And here you are."
"And where is here?" Asked Thomas.
"That's a bit tricky to explain. The easy answer is that we are half way through your connection to the elements. That should be close enough for now. Let's go. I have a lot to show you, but not a lot of time to do so."
"Show me what?"
"This" Grant swept the gray world with his staff like he was parting a curtain. Behind the gray was a world, the same world Thomas had lived in all his life. But this was different. Everything was made of lines of light. Red, blue, green, and white were woven together to give shape to everything Thomas had ever seen. Moving along the lines were spirits. Some were small, the size of a fly, and others were massive. The largest spirit Thomas could identify looked to be sitting inside the mountain that formed the wall of the copper pass. As Thomas turned in wonder at the spectacular vision around him, he saw a cage formed of mostly green lines formed around a wiggling form composed of mostly blue. Almost instantly he recognized the blue form as Mr. Ericson. Along the green lines moved small balls or sparks.
"What happened?" Thomas asked.
He tried to interfere the voice came from a small spark of green.
not allowed can't disturb too important Thomas recognized the language as the same one he had been hearing lately.
"I'm guessing that the spirit that has dominion over this region told its subordinates to make sure your friend did not disturb the ritual," answered Grant.
"Subordinates?"
"That's correct. Elemental spirits have their own hierarchy. Its complex and chaotic, but it exists. One of the duties of the Shaman is to dampen any conflicts between spirits that push into the mortal realm. Conversely, when mortal activates interfere in the elemental layer Shaman are responsible for mending the rifts."
"So, basically, the Shaman acts as a buffer and interface between the elemental and mortal layers of existence?"
"That is essentially accurate. We also work in the same way with the Spirit layer, but there are many other Classes that can work there as well, like the Priests for example." Another wave of shaman Grant's staff, and Thomas found himself on the spirit layer. Rather than the densely packed lines of the Elements, everything here was shaded and ghostlike. Almost exactly like Shaman Grant. Thomas looked toward Mr. Ericson. He was still encased in the web of stone, but had stopped struggling.
"Is he okay? Asked Thomas as he indicated the still figure.
"He's fine. You can see his spirit form is still strong. Compare him to me. I'm sure you'll notice how much more real, or should I say 'there', he is compared to me." Shaman Grant shrugged. "I surrendered my physical body long ago, so my spirit form has been fading ever since."
"So, are you dead?"
"That depends on your point of view. I can't return to the mortal layer anymore, but I still exist on the spirit layer. For a while longer at least. Eventually, I'll fade from here and join the light to be reborn, but that's not here or there for now."
Thomas saw the world begin to fade around himself. There was a slight tremble at the base of his neck, and it seemed the air was changing.
"I see our time is almost up. Remember what you've seen tonight. And don't worry about hearing the elemental spirits. The fall of the shamans left a lot of the spirits without their friends, and a lot of damage was caused to the elemental layer. Most of it can only be fixed from the mortal layer, so it will be up to you. I know that the Elemental Lords have high hopes for you. But there's no need to rush. Take your time and grow stronger. Remember, a pine tree grows tall quickly, but the oak has stronger wood. You will need the strength of the oak to heal the world."
The world Thomas saw continued to fade as the old Shaman was speaking. As the last words fell into Thomas' ears, his eyes opened on the mortal layer. Looking around he saw the stone bindings that encased Mr. Ericson begin to crack and fall away. "I see, I understand," said Thomas to Shaman Grant, though he knew the old man could not hear him. Thomas began to get to his feet to help Mr. Ericson, who was attempting the same feat, when he suddenly collapsed into unconsciousness.