It hadn't been exactly hard to know where to look. I mean come on, a giant apple, women with crowns...
"Can't we just use the same way we came back in?" I asked
"If you want to walk there, yes. Say, remember that mountain you climbed and the car that's probably gone now?"
Traveling in the spirit world is... Different. There, Up and down, left or right, back and front, becomes meaningless in a place that does not obey the laws of physics or even work on a tri-dimensional basis. Even time worked differently depending by locales.
Four dimensions of space is not something humans aren't meant to play with, we don't even have any way of perceiving it. All we can do is follow our instinct, the conscious mind cannot process the information, but the subconscious can somewhat do it.
To understand how to move, you have to grasp what you cannot make sense of. This is part of what shamanism is, understanding the nature of reality, that everything isn't knowable, catalogable and can't be defined. Because doing that diminishes what you labeled.
Remember the exercise I did to assert my dominance over my body? That's shamanism.
It's not a state of being or a job. It's a path and a skill, the ability to unshackle your mind and feel what is beyond the stuff with the "real" sticker on it.
"If it looks like a cat, it acts like a cat, It's a cat"
That's the kind of reasoning you have to try to stop to understand. Much like they called people like me shamans. Just about no actual shaman calls himself that. They use the name that's appropriate to their culture. Shaman, is a label society slapped on us. Once something's properly designated it's no longer worth thinking about.
Now, do you see what I mean?
Drugs and a shaman are often related, they are easy way to change the perception you have of the world. They give new insight. And they're fricking awesome...
Ok, ok, tangent's over. But In retrospect... I should have waited for the acid to pass.
The land in which the sanctum had been built was roughly the size of central park. It was surrounded by cliff that led to... Nowhere actually. Beyond the cliffs was a black abyss devoid of anything, that streched as far as the horizon. Even the ocean's water fell into it. It seemed like that was the edge of my domain. It took a while until I reached a passage going down.
The passage was a bit hard to describe. It wasn’t an actual path, space just sort of warped and all of a sudden I was walking on the cliff's edge. I walked down into a cavern, this time walking on the ceiling.
Right inside the cavern was a rift. A crack that stood in the air, completely black yet it glowed… a patch of shining darkness in the fabric of space.
"There it is." Book-Dan exclaimed with satisfaction.
He had since the ritual came back into my skull. Not that I minded, he was useful. I would say he's a bit of a jackass sometimes but that was also my case, being the exact same person.
"Ready to jump?"
"I think so." I replied with only a slight bit of hesitation. "What's behind this?"
"The way, The highway, the plane of travels."
I took a deep breath and stepped through the fissure. I didn't want to take chances every time I had passed over I'd been choked by either the lack of air or by blood in throat. I shivered thinking about that again. The pain had really helped me not to think about it.
Beyond the portal was a highway. The most nightmarish highway you could ever imagine. I entered via a sewer crate. The road stretched out into the horizon, splitting into an uncountable number of exit, some of which twisted around, creating loops or going in odd direction, like side way...
Cars, chariot, bikes, horses, dog sleds and eh... Pogo sticks, were being driven by ectoplasm composed beings. Surely minor manifestations of the realm. There was nothing bellow the highway, pillars were holding it from falling into the abyss below. None of the inhabittants paid attention to us, instead they yelled at each other to move, honking at the other in cacophony that made my ear and head throbbed.
I sighed loudly. This was going to be one hell of a walk. The carbon dioxide coming from the car already made my eyes burn, not counting the smell of the horses' eh... Byproduct. I wandered around a bit, until I found what I needed. The worn green sign proudly displayed "New York City. Exit 234 9th level."
"What level are we?"
"First." He replied with amusement.
This, was going to be one loooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggg evening... I though walking to a ladder that stuck out of the highway's side.