Realm Jumper

The air was musky and hot in the depths of the wild jungle. I momentarily wondered how she could stand it out here. The soft gravel and dried leaves crunched in a poetic, steady sound: crunch, crunch, crunch. I took a deep breath and smelled the familiar smells of local flowers, warmth through the trees, and, as expected: the smells of a witch.

Somewhere in the distance, I could hear a strange parrot call out in warning, but I mustered up my courage and pressed on. I could see the treehouse just a little further.

The smell of incense and feelings of sigils and warning spells grew stronger as I moved forward. I sucked in a breath and forced my courage to stay strong. I steadied my hand as I grabbed the rope on the swinging bridge. The bridge looked stable enough despite the slight swaying with each step. I was certain she knew I was here by now and tried to take comfort in the fact that if she wanted to, she would have killed me already. Perhaps she wasn’t as dangerous and ruthless as the rumors led me to believe.

I hesitated in front of the bamboo door for a few moments, trying to remind myself why I was here. Before I could actually bring myself to knock, the door swung open, and there she stood: strikingly frightening but beautiful. Her black cloak was as long as her faded black skirt. Her breasts were barely covered by strategically placed flowers and golden chains. Her dark hair fell about everywhere: in her eyes, down her shoulders, and caressed her face perfectly. She wore a small moon diadem that seemed to sparkle even in the shade. But her eyes, her eyes, captivated me and froze me to the spot simultaneously. Her winged eyeliner was perfect and made her eyes look truly cat-like. The crimson, brown of her eyes shone like little magical spotlights.

“Well, my dear, are you going to stand out there all day, or did you want to come in?” She asked smoothly in an almost musical voice. Her voice was deeper than I anticipated and didn’t match her feminine features.

“Mazikeen?” I questioned, foolishly.

“You can call me Maze. Come in, I’ll make us some tea,” she said, stepping aside and allowing space for me to come inside. I pushed myself forward into the small space. I hadn’t given much thought to the inside of her house, but it looked exactly as I might have imagined it would. There were little mason jars with lights hanging by carefully wrapped rope, as well as tiny heads and skulls. Crystals covered every flat surface as well as other dark candles. Spellbooks, herbs, and most of all, tea. So many teacups, teapots, and jars of loose tea leaves. She directed me over to a chair by her dining table. The chairs and the table looked like they were magically forged from some tree out in the jungle. There was no way it was truly carved to look like this without magic.

Maze fussed with the tea on the counter and didn’t bother to look at me as she asked: “What brings you to me, darling? What spell are you in need of?”

I swallowed and wished I already had my tea to calm my throat, which was starting to dry out.

“I don’t need a spell. I need a master….” I whispered. Maze hesitated with the water for a moment before continuing.

“If you’re truly a young witch in need of training, you need a witch with similar powers. That’s not me, my darling. But if you tell me your abilities, I can guide you in the right direction,” she answered, finishing the tea and placing a cup in front of me before sitting across the table. Her gaze was piercing, and she almost looked as if she regretted letting me in or wanted to make me regret coming here. I looked down at my tea, and it looked sort of glittery with little star flakes in it.

“I’m pretty sure I have the right person. You are Mazikeen, the shaman? The realm jumper?” I asked quietly.

She took a sharp breath and hardened her expressionless face. She sipped her tea lightly, giving me a bit of confidence in sipping my own tea.

“So, little one. When did you first jump?” She asked, keeping her voice equally as low.

“I’m honestly not sure. I’m certain I was doing it before I truly recognized it. But last summer, I couldn’t come back. When I finally did, I realized I needed help, more than my coven could provide. I needed someone like you.” I did my best to keep my voice steady.

“What’s your name, little one?”

“Julia,” I answered, starting to feel my nerves calming a bit. She scoffed, and a small smirk rose onto her lips.

“You’re going to need a better name than that if you’re going to be a true shaman. Witches like us… Well, it’s more expected.”

“You mean to say Mazikeen isn’t your real name?” She laughed out loud and sipped her tea.

“Yes and no. It’s not the name I was given at birth, but it is the name I claim. I was born into a simple family with no followers of magic. They gave me a name of light and goodness, a Biblical name. I chose Mazikeen after a demon of power. I thought it was more fitting.”

I swallowed hard and felt that tiny bit of fear rest uneasily in my chest. Holding on for any indication that she was to be was feared, as claimed.

“You can relax, my dear. Your unease is understandable but not needed,” Maze muttered with a slight smirk before sipping her tea again. “I might be a darker witch with darker powers, but I am still a witch. There is no worshiping or calling upon evil in this house.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just, I’ve heard stories…” I whispered. It sounded so stupid as soon as I said it. She nodded and carefully crossed her arms over her chest.

“And yet here you are. If the rumors are to be believed, you are either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.” There was no humor in her tone as she spoke, and I sighed at the implication. I had never considered myself to be exceptionally brave.

“I suppose a little of both. I was told by my high priestess you were someone who could be trusted.” That statement seemed to intrigue her, and she narrowed her eyes as if to read into me.

“Pray tell, who is your high priestess?” Maze asked, her eyes steadily fixed on me.

“Katarina,” I whispered. My high priestess was very much like Maze in the idea that she was not warm and friendly, also her reputation preceded her. I was curious about their relationship, but I dared not ask either of them.

The intensity, however, in Mazakin’s gaze faded. Her eyes almost glazed over with nostalgia.

“How is Kat?” Maze asked in a daze, her mind still focused on distant memories.

“She seems good. The temple is constantly overrun with cats,” I stated, and Maze laughed wildly. “No one is in need of a familiar. She is constantly creating new sketches and paintings across the temple. Different sigils for every season. I’m quite certain she’s creating a generation of young witches in the school she teaches at.” I smirked a little bit. With Katarina, it was never easy to tell if such actions were intentional, but they were always marvelously entertaining.

“That is good to hear,” she replied, standing up abruptly to refill her tea.

“More tea, my dear?” She asked pleasantly. I looked at my teacup, almost empty with one glittering star at the bottom. “You might want to, considering we have a long conversation ahead of us, my dear.” She turned to look at me now. The wink in her eye was both haunting and curious.

“Yes, please,” I answered.

The Beginning

“I can feel your curiosity; you don’t need to hesitate to ask me, especially if you are to be my pupil, Julia,” Maze offered. She had an interesting sparkle in her eye as she sipped her tea, almost as if she already knew any question I might ask.

“How did you end up here in this place, alone?” I asked slowly with my eyes on the ground. She signed and darted her eyes as if choosing her words carefully.

“I suppose it’s best if you know now: it’s not required for a shaman to remain alone, but often this work and this life is easier if you do. This is not something for the faint of heart or something a mundane can easily come to terms with. I spent many years mixing with people, trying to find a way to fit into society, join with other witches, but it only led to lowering my vibration and painful separations. I specifically dreamed and manifested this place,” she said, gesturing around her home, “and I did it here because this land called to me.”

I thought about my friends and family back home. I thought about my boyfriend. I told him I was on vacation for a week. It saddened me to think I might not be able to truly be with them or share this with them. But I already knew exactly what she was talking about; I could already feel as my abilities grew, so did the distance between me and those I loved.

“Tell me about your journey, how you learned, and the other witches you worked with?”

Mazikeen gave a wry smile. She got up abruptly and searched through her kitchen cupboards, and it took me a minute to realize she was gathering a tray of food. It must be sort of a longer story. She slowly cut slices of cheese and placed them artistically next to the bread she had already gathered.

“In the end, there were only three, and then the one who set me free,” she answered in a voice so low I almost didn’t hear her. She carried the beautifully aesthetically pleasing tray of food back to the table and sat with me. “I suppose I’ll start at the beginning: as I mentioned before, I was raised in a simple Christian house, two brothers and one sister. It is a strange feeling to grow up in a home knowing you are not the same as everyone else. I could see things, feel things, and change things that the others couldn’t accept or recognize. I was constantly told I was either making up stories or ideas for drama or attention. I could see into their souls and read their energy, and it was a constant pain to be told that wasn’t true, to be told I was the liar when I could see the truth of their spirit. I learned very quickly not to rely on anyone else’s validation. I started using my gifts and channeling them into stories and creation.

“When I was a young teenager, I had my first understanding of realm jumping. There’s a thin border between this world and the veil - as I’m sure you’ve come to know. I started to feel and see people. I started to talk to and form bonds with people in the veil. Since I started to spend so much time alone, I didn’t realize for a long while that I was the only one able to commune with these people as I did. I also had no control over my abilities and what I was doing. You should know that constantly drifting back and forth between the realms can cause a use of darker magic, a darker feeling on your soul if you are not grounded in yourself, in your light, and in this realm, but we’ll get to that. We have a long list of things to teach you.”

Maze paused and carefully chewed some grapes from the tray of food. I hesitantly reached over and took a peach. It, like my tea, seemed to sparkle with a supernatural shimmer.

“I lived in that for a long time. Thinking I was meant only for darkness, only for powers of death and destruction. I lowered myself to the feelings and vibrations of the earth, of the society in which I lived - even though I knew in my heart that wasn’t where I belonged. But I was young and had no teacher to tell me otherwise. This is where I was when I met my first witch, Zoey. Remember this: like attracts like. If you are constantly dwelling in darkness and lower vibrations, my dear, that is all you will attract. Thus is my beginning.