Risen From Smoke

A long time ago there existed a vague belief that when a person died you could awaken his or her soul with a ritual. Their birthstone coated in a family members blood would be set afire. Out of the burning of blood and mineral they’d be reborn from smoke, merely as a phantom.
Unfortunately scarce amount of people were lead to believe in such an odd ceremony. They only saw a lie that their beloveds could be brought back into their arms. None could grasp the truth, not until one man came along and changed them all. His name was John Locke.

John Locke and Richard Wollstonecraft stood at a gravestone. The name Thomas James Wollstonecraft was engraved in the stone. Richard stared down at the gravestone full of longing and sadness. “He’s been gone long time,” Richard said softly. Locke to give him comfort placed his hand on Richard’s shoulder. “Yes, he has.”
Thomas Wollstonecraft had died a year past from terrible disease. At the time they hadn’t had any way to possibly cure him. He’d died on his deathbed in his sleep. Only one person had remembered what his exact last words were, his nurse. According to her memory he’d said: “You know, in my life I haven’t taken many risks. I’ve left faith and gone for the roads that seemed sturdy. I can feel it in my guts. They’re pounding. Gods telling me that they’re ain’t no sickness in life if you’re playing all your cards. My cards are all bunched
Up inside, that’s what’s killing me”
“Do you think he was right, Locke?” Richard asked recalling the memory.
“Right?” Locke asked unsure of the question.
“About playing your cards. If you don’t get rid of all of them, they’ll end up eating you alive eventually,” Richard said.
“It is not for me to say whether it is right or wrong, but I do believe it is wise to say, yes,” Locke stated.
“I dearly miss him… if only there was a way…”
“I haven’t an indubitable thought in my mind that he’s not as good as dust. One’s spirit cannot be truly extinguished, destroyed by loss of breath,” Locke said firmly.
“Yes, yes, his soul rests beyond the heavenly gates. But alas his body cripples to dirt under our very feet. I wish to see him bask in the sunlight. His blue eyes shine and his voice to echo through our ears,” Richard requests longingly. For a moment Locke says nothing. Deep in thought he glances up at the cloudy sky and the gravestone that reflects the suns glare.
“There may be a way to free his soul from death’s shackles,” Locke announced collecting all of his thoughts.
Richard looked at Locke confused. Thinking he’d heard him wrong. “What?” He asked.
“I have heard word of a ritual that is performed to awaken a fallen soul from their limbo,” Locke explained.
Richard gazed in disbelief.
“Locke, is it that age where your sanity is drifting?” Richard asked concerned.
“No, no this is true!! The birthstone of whomever died,
Soaked in the blood of a family member is tossed into a fire. As the smoke rises the spirit is reborn!” Locke exclaimed theatrically throwing his arms into the air.
“Has it been done before…?” Richard asked still not fully convinced.
“I think… not. You see the people who inhabit this world today don’t trust the universe to reward them for their faith. They won’t invest their trust in a matter that is not fully understood,” Locke said shaking his head.
Richard pondered over all Locke had said. He thought that if there was a possibility his brother may be summoned back… why not believe it?
“They fear the disappointment of failure…” Richard said as he thought it. There had been several times in his life when he’d faced failure. But despite the fear that grew inside he said, “Let’s ignite the fire. I won’t be held back by fear.” Locke looked into his eyes as a father would to his son and smiled.

Locke and Richard began to plan the ritual. It had to be in a specific location. Not necessarily holy but a place where one could feel at peace. Fortunately living on the northern countryside the forest was quite fitting. Richard sent a letter to his mother informing her of their plan. And in return she replied:

Dear Beccaria,

When I received your letter I wasn’t sure how to think of it. Bringing a man back from the dead isn’t possible. You know this, dead is dead. There is no waking up from it. I know you miss your brother more than anything and I will not try and convince you to stop this ritual. I just hope you know how the odds will turn out in the end. I love you and always will.

Love and always,
Mom

As Richard read her response he was filled ultimate disappointment. His own mother didn’t have faith that he could bring back her son. “I told you, few people have faith. They’re stubborn noxious creatures,” Locke said. He could see the disappointment consuming Richard. His immense yearn to revive his brother’s spirit was far too great. If the ritual failed, his faith would be eternally broken. “Locke, what if she’s right? What if all we’re investing our belief in will demolish before our very eyes?”
Richard said in relentless concern. For the first time Locke had a loss for words. He wished he could reassure Richard that all would goes as well. But foreshadowing the future without flaws was too much a danger to vow false promises.

The night when they’d perform the ritual drew closer. It was essential that it’d be his death date. Not necessarily the month but surely the day. Thomas had died during the night of July 21 1723. So on September 21 they would perform it. Thomas was born December 2nd 1012. Turquoise belonged to December. Unfortunately the mineral wasn’t typical to be spotted in that area of Northern America. But Locke had known a man by the name of Jefferson that was a passionate collector of minerals and had in possession a large Turquoise.

The night of September 21st came. Locke and Richard ventured into the dark country forest. They had decided to complete the ritual nearby a river. “Water is the source of all life. If we are too succeed in this resurrection it’s best it be near it,” Locke told Richard as they settled in their spot. Richard set out gathering firewood and shortly returned with five mini logs. Lock started the fire and once it was going retrieved a knife from his pocket.
Richard held out his arm. “I shall soak this mineral in your blood. For your blood, your genes and your life is the shadow of Thomas,” then with no warning at all he sliced across Richards arm, he screamed out pulling his arm away. Richard glared in pain at Locke, but Locke didn’t seem to care at all. He just wiped the bloody knife onto the stone and held it high in the air.
“We are here on this beautiful night to witness a profound sight. The water that surrounds shall apply a great compound. As we dig down great depths we shall summon the rise of soul whose broken in demise. So we chant to the heavens, we chant to the universe! DESHI DESHI BASARA BASARA!!” Locke yelled at the top of his lungs before tossing the bloody Turquoise into the fire. “What’s that mean?” Richard asked.
“Rise,” Locke said. Richard smiled then drew his attention to the burning stone. He wasn’t sure what was to happen. He just watched. The smoke filled the air with mist. Richard closed his eyes and breathed the smoke in. ‘Please Thomas, please come back to me,’ he thought as he focused on the aroma. On Thomas’s voice and his memory. Remembering how they used to play as kids. They’d told each other everything. Nothing was held a secret. Thomas said how he’d rule the world one day. How he’d explore the lands and become wealthy with knowledge. Everything important that Richard knew in life he’d learned from him. Thomas was his bother, his teacher and his savior. Richard inhaled in deeply, all his senses towards him, focusing as hard as he could he exhaled and opened his eyes.
Before him was a man who stood in the rising smoke. He stood there smiling. Richard wasn’t sure what he was seeing. Then he realized that it was Thomas. It was really him. But he wasn’t merely a phantom, he was there as a whole. Richard truly felt his presence. He didn’t say anything to him. He just stared at his mystical figure smiling.
“Locke, do you see him?” Richard asked pointing towards the spirit of Thomas.
“It is not for my eyes nor anyone else’s. It is only for you to witness.” Locke said placidly.
Richard stared into Thomas’s eyes. Thomas nodded towards him as if he knew what Richard was thinking. ‘You’re not really here, are you?’ Richard asked Thomas through his thoughts.
“Yes, I am here with you. I’ve always been. I never left you,” He responded in Richard’s mind.
“But you’re…” Richard began to think in reply.
“Physical presence is not a matter. The connection we share betwixt brotherhood surpasses the bounds of physicality. I’m always with you in spirit. That is all that matters,” Thomas said knowing Richard's next thought.
Richard wasn’t fully convinced. Not able to accept that Thomas was still with him. How could he have been?
Thomas stepped away from the smoke and towards Richard. He stood in front of him and said, “I’m with you here and now. Move past the cracks of my crumbled body and re-coat my existence with eternal memory,’ He said before he stepped through Richard and inside him.
Richard closed his eyes again. ‘I am with you…’ he heard Thomas’s voice echo. ‘Here and now…’
“He hasn’t risen…” Richard said. Locke looked at him confused. “…Because he never fell,” Richard smiled at Locke.

Richard finally accepted that his body was among the dirt but his soul was with him. “I don’t understand though, how was he here?” Richard asked.
“He wasn’t, that was all you. You recreated him. You healed yourself,” Locke said.
“Thank you, Locke. From the beginning I told myself that by bringing Thomas back I would heal my wounds. I thought that he was the one who’d fallen to the depths. But the truth is…. Thomas never fell, I did. And now I’ve risen from the smoke.”