Giving you control.

Chapter 12.

(Baraka's P.O.V)
The white-blue light stretches like a giant beam. Its glow is too bright so I shadow my eyes with my arm as I walk through it. It feels like am being sucked in, and a moment later, am standing outside Mika's house.

I tilt my head to the left, then my feet take the lead, knowing by themselves where to go. I sigh at the sight of the village at night, now reduced to pitch black shadows under a mystical sky.

"Oh!" I exclaim when the dim orange lights catch my eye. I tilt my head towards the source and a hut comes into view. It's Mika's grandmother's hut. The flames coming from inside dance in the night, shifting shadows.

"Come in boy!" A voice as calming as still waters calls from inside when I get to the door of the hut. "You must be tired already."

I step in. I realize that am still barefoot when the cold starts freezing my feet.

"Are you cold? It'll get worse if you keep standing there."

I rest my eyes on her face, small and rounded, with wrinkles that don't hide her warmth as a person. Her lips are curved into a smile that pushes her eyes into crescent shapes.

"Mika's grandmother?!" I ask, dumbfounded, as I cross the threshold and walk in.

She laughs, "You are a quick-witted boy, you catch on quickly." She praises me, and I can't help but smile a little. I never had a relationship with my grandparents growing up, or a country home to visit on vacations, so I can't help but feel touched by her comments.

She grabs my hand then, probably aware of the shock I might be in, and helps me get sitted on a three-legged stool.

"So, why... are  you here..." I ask, surely she's supposed to be dead. The thought doesn't scare me to my surprise. I don't seem to mind at all that am talking to a ghost, although answers would help a lot.

"It's just my spirit that is..." She shrugs me off, bending forward a bit. "You are special after all."

She laughs to herself.

"It's just tea, it should keep you warmer." Her hand stretches out towards me, her fingers wrapped around a ceramic cup.

Me, "oh thank you!" I wrap my hands around the cup to steal its warmth.

She taps her cane softly onto the ground, her lips still smiling as I sip the tea. I feel the hot liquid travel to my stomach, where it swirls around before settling. Its aftertaste on my tongue is a never-ending bitterness. She must have added some sort of herbs.

"It doesn't happen very often you know..." She begins, "our gods always work through us to perform deeds but... it's not every day that others experience it as you do."

Me, "gods!"

Her, "Yes, god. Aren't you interested in god? Isn't that why am here?"

Me, "..."

Her, "Well, Mika was always interested in such stories you see. Her problem was she didn't truly believe until it was too late... my poor granddaughter."

Me, "Soul snatchers, good and bad spirits."

Once again she smiles, satisfied with my answer. Her way of talking is neither slow nor quick, her voice aged and wise.

"The god of our fathers always revealed themselves in colourful ways. We had spiritual elements, and leaders who could perform miracles. Our bodies could hold so much of their power and work through them, all we had to do was believe, worship and it could be done. But then, we slowly began to forget our ways you see, our magic became black and corrupted, we turned our backs..." She lets out a dejected sigh.