Chapter 17
The campfire started when the sun went down. We followed the path near the main lodge which led us to a clearing where a roaring fire sat in the middle, surrounded by four three-tiered benches. Noah and I found Nick, Claudia and Rachel sitting on a middle bench at the far side. We made our way around and sat down in front of them on the lower bench. The heat from the fire was just the right amount of warmth on the cool April evening.
“There you guys are,” Rachel said as she slid down next to Noah, who immediately smiled in response.
I rolled my eyes, and then turned to Nick and Claudia. “So what's the agenda like for this campfire thing?”
They both laughed and Nick replied with a grin, “Hope you can sing.”
Claudia rolled her eyes as she shuddered from the cold. Nick wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. Claudia was a lot like Anna. She was small and delicate looking, but had a very strong and independent personality, making it clear that she could hold her own.
“Sing, eh?” I chuckled. “Not a chance. I bet Rachel does though.”
“Oh, I love to sing!” Rachel said excitedly.
“Of course you do,” I teased.
“But we don't have to sing, do we?” Noah asked Claudia and Nick, feigning nervousness.
Nick laughed. “Of course you do.”
“No, you don't, Noah.” Claudia elbowed Nick. “Don't listen to anything Nick says.”
People began filtering into the campfire ring. The benches quickly filled up with bodies huddling together under blankets. A couple of guys pulled out their guitars and started strumming some old campfire songs until everyone was singing along.
The music went on for quite some time. The fire continued to crackle and mesmerize me with its flickers of light and energy. I wished Anna were sitting next to me so we could cuddle. I could almost smell her lavender skin.
The music died down as a tall elderly man stood up across the bonfire from us and held up his hands for silence.
“Welcome Gifted Ones,” he said, slowly circling the fire. “Those of you who don't yet know me, I am . . .” he paused, almost as if that was it. He was. He was what? “I am James Chisholm,” he finally continued. “I've been the head counsellor here for as long as I can remember and I am looking forward to leading this next generation of Gifted Ones.”
Everyone clapped in response, and with admiration. Just by the applause, it wasn’t hard to tell that this man was held high on some sort of pedestal. He was much older than I would’ve thought the head counsellor should be. Seventy, maybe? Or eighty, even? But then again, other than the frail body and the wrinkled skin, he gave off a much younger aura. His eyes were still bright, round, and full of life. His teeth sparkled white with every smile. His hands were firm and strong. Maybe he was younger.
“Now,” he continued, cutting my thoughts short, “all you newcomers are sure to have lots of questions. This is the time for them. If anyone has a question for me, or for anyone else here, I open the floor up to you now.”
A few mutters were overheard, but no questions were asked. I fiddled with the string on my track pants, bouncing my leg, something my mother told me I did when I was trying to figure out a math problem. I had so many questions, but I definitely wasn't going to be the first one to ask.
Then I felt a smack on the back of my head.
“Ouch! What the—?” I turned to glare at Nick who was smirking and nodding toward James.
“Go ahead, man,” he whispered.
I shook off my desire to clock him back and then slowly raised my hand. All eyes turned to me.
“Yes, sir. What is your name?” James asked.
“Ah—” I cleared my throat then continued, “I'm Jake.”
He took a step back and said, “Jake from Halifax, right? I've heard about you. Quite the reputation you have already with that special little talent of yours.”
If I wasn't red-faced prior to that point, I definitely was now, even though I wasn't quite sure what information had preceded me.
“Is that right?” I forced a laugh.
“Yes, indeed,” James said as he turned to the crowd, keeping his eyes on me. “Jake is a healer. A very promising one, at that.”
There were a lot of nods and murmurs throughout the crowd. Were there other healers here? Surely I wasn't the only one.
“What is your question, Jake?”
My mind raced as I tried to pick the most important question. Then I just decided to blurt it out. “What's the protocol on relationships, sir?”
Everyone laughed. That was embarrassing.
James held up a hand to silence the crowd. “You're asking if you're allowed to have a girlfriend, Jake?” he said with a little grin.
“Well, not exactly. I know I'm allowed to do whatever I want, it's just I'm wondering, I guess, what the real risks are.” Ms. Peters had already told me, but I needed to hear it from someone else. To be sure. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe things were different. This guy would know. I knew he would.
“Good question, Jake,” the old man said as he turned his back to me and faced the rest of the group. “I'm sure that's on a lot of your minds, actually, and I should know since I can read your minds.” He chuckled, amused by his own joke.
Noah and I quickly exchanged an interested look. We hadn't been told about the mindreading gift. I supposed there were a lot of things we didn't yet know about.
“And,” James continued, “I know there are several of you who have chosen to have special relationships with ungifted people. I am not here to tell you whether that is right or wrong, but I will ask you,”—James turned and stared at me with eyes wide and glowing from the reflection of the fire—“is it worth the risk?”
I felt my face burn, more from defeat than anything else. I already knew the answer, but I guess I just needed to hear it again.
An unfamiliar voice from across the fire spoke up, “But what is the risk? What are you talking about? I didn't know anything about this.”
James turned to greet her, a teenager about the age of eighteen or nineteen. “Allow me to explain,” he started as he paced back and forth, tapping his fingertips together. “Everyone here is gifted. Chosen, if you will. You're not immortal by any means, but you have special gifts that allow you to have an edge over the dark ones we call the Defiers. You are blessed with these gifts so that you can fulfill prophesy and help those in need, which often entails dealing with the Defiers. You’ve been told that much by your Seeker. Your gifts are selfless gifts, and as you know, you can lose your gifts if you expose the truth about yourself to others.
“Now, when you enter into a relationship with an ungifted person, he or she instantly becomes a target by the Defiers. By injuring your loved one, they will weaken you. And once you are weak, they can easily kill you.”
Silence fell over the crowd. I felt like a jerk for bringing up such a depressing topic at the beginning of the discussion.
“Don't feel bad, Jake.” James had obviously read my thoughts again. “These are things you all need to know.”
“I have a question, Mr. Chisholm,” Rachel politely interrupted.
“Yes. What is your name?” James asked.
“I am Rachel Riley,” she said with confidence, clearly expecting her reputation to have preceded her, as well.
“Rachel who?” he said with a grin.
“Riley, sir. Rachel Riley.”
“And what is your gift, Ms. Riley?” James asked for the benefit of everyone listening.
“Prophesy,” she responded sheepishly.
“Rachel the Prophet,” James laughed to himself as he poked at the fire with a log. “Okay, Ms. Riley, what is your question?”
“I'd like to know if there is any way to tell the Gifted Ones from the Defiers? Like, how do you know if someone is really good when they say they are?”
The old man gently laid the log down beside the fire and answered, “Unfortunately, unless you are gifted
with Discernment, it's nearly impossible to tell the difference between good and evil people. However, Gifted Ones are branded with a mark, which is a clear way of being able to identify one.”
I felt my eyebrows crinkle as I waited for him to explain. Ms. Peters had mentioned the mark of the Gifted Ones, but I was so preoccupied with having to break up with Anna that I hadn’t asked her anything else about it.
“Their brand. You know—tattoo?” he said, seemingly searching for a word that we might be able to relate to in our day and age.
“I'm sorry?” Noah asked, puzzled. Thankfully I wasn't the only one.
“I guess the newcomers wouldn't necessarily be aware of this. My apologies.” Mr. Chisholm raised his hands, which commanded everyone's attention. “Newcomers, in order to officially become a Gifted One, you must receive the mark of the Gifted Ones. Upon graduation at the end of the weekend, you will enter into a covenant and become branded in Sunday's closing ceremony.”
“That's cool,” Noah muttered.
James turned to Noah and said, “Sorry? Was that a question?”
“No, nothing, sir,” Noah covered. “Well, actually, I do have a question.”
“Sure. What's your name and gift, son?”
“I’m Noah Morgan from Halifax, and I am gifted with Languages,” Noah said proudly.
“Oh, Languages.” James clapped his hands together in delight. “What a great gift to have. A lot of good work will be done through you, son.”
“Thank you, sir. Looking forward to being of service,” Noah said, giving a little salute with his hand.
“Now what is your question?”
“I was wondering how many gifts there are altogether?” Noah asked.
“There are eight gifts altogether,” James began. “They are Wisdom, Faith, Healing, Miracles, Prophesy, Discernment, Helping and Languages.” James circled the fire as he spoke. “I'm going to explain briefly what each gift is and I want everyone to raise their hand when I call out their gift. Take note of the people that share your gift as you will see them in your training groups tomorrow.”
There were murmurs of agreement throughout the crowd.
“The gift of Wisdom,” James began, pausing to survey the dozen or more hands in the air, “enables one to retain any and all information they've ever seen, read or heard, and in advanced cases, even information they've never seen, read or heard. Someone gifted with Wisdom can know detailed information about a complete stranger. They also have a way of being able to manipulate your mood, calming you in a situation if need be. They are said to be people readers.”
He paused before continuing on to each gift.
“The gift of Faith can be powerful. With the ability to believe anything, you can literally do anything. Anything from lifting three thousand pounds to moving mountains. People gifted with Faith are often called free-spirited people. They are scared of nothing.”
I noticed that there were even more people gifted with Faith than with Wisdom. Mostly females though, and I wondered if there was a reason behind that. The only males in this category were young children.
James continued, “The gift of Healing”—he gave a nod in my direction—“is extremely rare. As you can see, we only have two healers amongst us. A healer cannot only heal one's body, but in rare instances, can even heal the mind and spirit.”
I casually checked out the other healer. He was a tall man in his mid-fifties, I guessed. I wondered how talented he was at healing and if he'd be able to teach me anything.
“The gift of Miracles is also extremely rare.” James looked around at the crowd until he spotted a little boy sitting on an upper bench across from us. “Simon.”
The little boy nodded shyly.
“Simon is our only miracle worker. With this gift, Simon will be able to do great things. He is currently under continuous supervision, as this gift could easily get out of hand. You can imagine a five-year-old running around and wishing for new bikes for all of his friends. And I'm sure if we left him to his own devices, his family would have won the lottery by now. Right, Simon?”
Everyone laughed, including little Simon who probably had no idea what was going on. He sat comfortably close to an older woman, who I assumed was his mother.
James went on, “Because miracle workers are extremely rare, they are always at great risk from the Defiers. Simon will be under constant surveillance to ensure his safety. It is our job as Gifted Ones to protect Simon.
“Next we have the gift of Prophesy which enables one to be able to see the future. This gift can range in depth. Perhaps one may only see flashes of the future for certain events, and with other events they may see the whole thing unfold before their eyes. Some may only be able to see the future in their dreams, and others can have visions in the middle of the day, no matter what they’re doing. Prophets are essential to our cause. They allow us to see what is coming—both good and evil.”
There were only a handful of prophets, Rachel being one of them. She seemed pleased that her gift wasn't diluted.
James continued, “The gift of Discernment enables one to be able to instantly distinguish a good person from a bad person. Someone who is well-trained in Discernment can sense evil without even seeing it. Once you are trained enough to be able to sense evil from a mile away, so to speak, you can even begin to read minds. Very rare though.”
I noticed that, again, there were about a dozen people who raised their hands for this gift, including Nick and Claudia. I wondered if they could read minds too. That would be embarrassing. I wondered if Claudia read my mind when I was thinking about how she reminded me of Anna. I wondered if she was reading my mind right now. I decided I should just shut up. I heard Claudia giggle, but I wasn't about to turn around to find out why.
“The gift of Helping is a gift you don't see in action very often,” James said. “Someone gifted with Helping has the natural instinct to want to help others, and can do pretty magnificent and unbelievable things in order to achieve that. It could mean being able to run a marathon with a broken leg just to help raise money for a good cause.
“Lastly, the gift of Languages is one of my personal favourites. Those gifted with Languages are able to speak and understand any language, including cryptic code. An invaluable tool. Also, many of you don't know this, but those gifted with Languages are also able to imitate the voices of others around them.”
I nudged Noah who appeared puzzled.
“Let me demonstrate,” James said. “Can I have a volunteer please?” He looked around the crowd. “Chloe? Can you come down here, please?”
A girl about my age made her way down the benches. She stood next to James with a wide smile and freckled cheeks.
“Chloe, I want you to tell everyone your name, age and where you are from, please.”
She obediently replied, “My name is Chloe Stevenson. I’m seventeen years old and from Phoenix, Arizona.”
“Thank you, Chloe, you may go sit down now,” James instructed.
I gave Rachel a quizzical look as we waited. James closed his eyes and smiled, then opened his mouth and the voice of Chloe came out as he repeated, “My name is Chloe Stevenson. I’m seventeen years old and from Phoenix, Arizona.”
Dumbfounded looks spread across the whole crowd. His voice was exactly like hers. How did he do that?
“So that’s what you can do with your Languages gift. You can literally speak the language of anyone.”
Noah’s gift was no longer useless, I thought. I could think of many ways that could come in handy.
As if reading my thoughts again, James added, “I urge all of you not to misuse your gifts. They have been given to you to help fulfill your purpose.”
One brave person in the crowd asked, “And what happens if you misuse your gift?”
And without hesitation, he responded, “Hell happens.”