TRANSCENDENCE 5

When Savannah returned to the field, the wasteland remained. Less than a month had passed since her patience trials, and that was barely enough time for even a flower to bloom. Wind had blown away much of the ash, but the bare dirt was all that remained.

She sat down in the middle of it, where she had sat before, and took out the book. A quick thumb through of pages left her to one where a large star was drawn in the corner - her version of a bookmark.

"Meditate. Find peace within yourself, and stretch your inner self," Savannah annotated 'mana' beneath this, "out to the world around you. Think about what you want to happen. Believe it. Believe that you can control time, that you can control the fate of something other than yourself."
(Savannah)

Savannah sat the book down in the dirt and closed her eyes. Peace was easier to find this time around. There was no nature to distract her, no flora rustling in the breeze, and no threat of wandering lovers stumbling upon her.

Here, in this place, there was no beauty. Nothing to draw them forward. Savannah was completely alone, left to her own devices.

She took in a deep breath, counting with each breath of musty air. Minutes passed, and the world around her faded. The intrusive light of the sun was gone, and the crashing of the waves against the rocks of the cliffside was gone.

Savannah was alone. Peaceful.
(Savannah)

She tapped into the circuitry of her mana - the power that flowed within her, that set her apart from the modern day orphan. She was powerful, Savannah reminded herself. She was special.

The lifeblood of her soul beat within her body like her pulse, faint but strong. There was no doubt that Savannah had control over the flow of her mana. The issue was getting it to do the right thing at the right time.

She stretched out the arm of her mana, prodding at the physical world. Savannah could feel where the grass used to be, where flowers once bloomed and where animals once roamed.

She wanted it back.
(Savannah)
So she'd get it back. Savannah screwed her shut eyes tighter, focusing on the single thought - she wanted the grass to return, the flowers to bloom, the singed tree bark to recover. She wished her tantrum never would have happened.

And so it didn't.

Something twisted in the world, and Savannah could feel it in her gut. It's as if time itself were bending, shaking and shuddering under the thrall of her mana. Tree trunks uncrackled and grass unsinged - this point in space travelled in reverse, taking everything but Savannah with it.

And when she opened her eyes, the lush, flowery paradise had returned.
(Savannah)