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Powerless Revision 1 Page 5
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“Because she’s got a life to live, just like the rest of us. It’s not right for myself or Jeana to decide that she can’t find a place in the world, that she’s not good enough for it,” Kevin argued.
Corey again smiled, enjoying something that Kevin couldn’t see.
“And you want her to attend the academy too. What if she goes off to fight?” Kevin heard the playful tone of his wife’s voice.
“That will be a decision of her choosing. She needs this opportunity to socialize and learn about the world. You can’t deny her that. I don’t see how she could complete the Shadowing, but if she does decide to go with her classmates to fight then I can be proud of her for it.”
“Oh, but you know,” said Corey, darkly, and with an increasingly base voice. “Your voice tells me you know full well what would happen to her. You work preparing supplies for shipment to the front lines, but you’ve only heard of what goes on there. Words can’t describe the kind of bizarre chaos and insane carnage unleashed in the heat of battle. It’s something you must hear for yourself. I get the sense that the danger is coming closer to home than you would like.”
Kevin cleared his throat, chilled by what he’d just heard.
“Yes, that’s the other thing. Before we let her out, Mira said she saw a face in my vapor. I checked everywhere, and I couldn’t find evidence of anyone strange in the area, but I have this sneaking suspicion that someone was trying to get in.”
“You sound like a man who knows to be worried from experience. Am I right?”
Kevin, soundlessly, grimaced and looked away.
“Your silence speaks as loud as your words,” Corey went on. “So you think someone is out to get you, again, and so you put your treasure out in the open where anyone can get to it. Is that intelligent?”
“She’s safer away from Cloud Cottage than in it,” he said, defensively. “No one knows who she is or what she is or even where she’s from when she’s out in public. Being at school should especially put her out of harm’s reach. No one knows she exists so she can’t be the thing they seek.”
Corey carefully considered this, finally nodding his head.
“That’s true, for now. But how long do you think it will be until her secret gets out? If someone is targeting you, that means they’re after something. Maybe they don’t know where it is, but my guess is they will know it when they find it. You must be eternally vigilant and extra precautious.”
Kevin stepped forward, though the old man in his chair did not react at all.
“That I am aware of, but I’m hoping you can be more helpful than that. Mira said the face tried to speak. Did you hear what Mira heard? Do you know who it was?”
“There is too much out there for me to listen to everything at once. If I had already known this conversation would have taken place much sooner. But that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to help you now.”
At this, Corey reached into his robes and procured a small leather sack. Drawing it open, he removed a small stone the size of a pebble. He held it out in his hand, and Kevin took it. It felt smooth and soft to the touch.
“Did you know that people can identify the sound of their own name even in a crowded room with hundreds of talkers. We have a connection to our names and it’s something ingrained in us, in the blood. If I sense that an intruder has come, this stone will carry my voice to you, and you’ll know a moment of action stands before you. You can carry it with you, always, in the folds of your ear.”
Placing the stone above his ear canal, he found that its shape, like a grain of rice, held in place perfectly and did not rub or chafe.
“Thank you,” Kevin expressed his relief.
Kevin then handed Mira’s academy application form to the elder. Corey reached back toward the fire for a small brand and burned his mark onto the paper. Kevin felt dismayed at the prospect of leaving this man who could teach him so much, even though their business had concluded. He indulged himself in a single question.
“You are known as a great warrior, but I don’t understand how you fought. How did you defeat your enemies?”
Corey chuckled to himself.
“Mr. Ipswich, for being a fully grown man I would have expected you to be more capable of appraising the powers of another. Sound can carry the sweetest pleasure or the most terrible pain. You’re lucky if you’ve only known the former. I’ll do you a favor and skip the demonstration.”
“There is one other thing,” Kevin meekly posed, already chiding himself for his foolishness. “You must have a quicker way to get out of here than the way I came in.”
“Of course, of course. I’ve got better things to do than to walk you back anyway. There’s a ladder set into the wall behind the fire. It’ll bring you up to my office, and my assistant can let you into the courtyard. You’ll be able to float away from there.”
After conveying his deep appreciation and gratitude to Corey, Kevin took his leave, circling around the man and the fire, finding the grips in the stone wall and climbing up through the floor above him.
Kevin returned home not long after, though it was much longer before the sound of his own voice replaced that of Corey’s in his head.
***
In the days leading up to her first class, the specter of the Tournament Trial looming large in her mind, Mira meticulously prepared herself to be in the best possible position. She gathered some useful mathematical instruments, including a compass and a tape measure. Her new uniform, which she appreciated for both its style and its usefulness as active wear, lay neatly folded in her room. Additionally, she had been training her body for the physical demands she knew she would face.
The day before her first trip to Dustfalls Academy as a student, Mira worked away the minutes doing crunches in her home after completing an invigorating jog. Her parents flipped through some old books, and Mira thought this would be a good time to ask some questions that had been on her mind.
“So, do you have any idea what this teacher, Ogden Fortst, is like?”
Kevin looked up from his book and leaned back in his chair.
“I’ve only seen him a few times, but I’ve heard a little bit about him. Seems like an odd fellow, but I’m sure he’s smart or else they wouldn’t have him teaching the senior class. He sure wasn’t there when I attended.”
“Wait, you went to the same school?” Mira asked in astonishment.
“Yes, I did, and they’d only just built the schoolhouse. Our instructor was actually Mert Bogger, if you can believe it. Guess he was the only guy they could find with the time. So we basically just taught ourselves. Ended up building some of the schoolhouses for the lower levels too. It was great fun. Only had a few homes around the outpost back then.”
“Wow, I didn’t know that!”
“Course now I feel incredibly old. Let’s pretend none of that ever happened,” he said, scratching the stubble on his neck.
“You’re not old,” Jeana jumped in. “Don’t pay any attention to those gray hairs.”
“I’m just trying to be more like you,” he poked back.
Just then a loud knock came at the front door. Kevin jumped out of his seat and went to investigate. Both Jeana and Mira were surprised and curious too. They’d never had a visitor before.
“Yes, of course. Please come right in,” Kevin said, and a moment later he returned to the living room to the absorbed expressions of his wife and daughter. Before they could ask who it was, a tall man stepped through the doorway.
Not only tall but also muscular, and of some age, the man had short blonde hair and a dollish face marred only by a few scars on the left cheek. He wore a heavy overcoat, despite the heat, that clinked when he walked. No doubt a weapon of some size must hide beneath his coat. When he spoke, his voice sounded lighter than one might expect, but it had a rough, insistent quality.
“Good evening to you. My name is Ogden Fortst.”
Mira might have guessed, but confirming his identity did force her to look at him in a
more respected light.
“Welcome. Thank you for coming. This is my wife Jeana, and this is Mira,” Kevin said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jeana said.
“A pleasure, Ma’am. And yes, Mira,” he said, turning to address her. “I’m sure you know I’ll be your instructor this year, ladling piping hot spoonfuls of knowledge into your head and generally being a helpful resource for you at all times.”
Mira nodded and they shook hands.
“If there’s anything special I can do to help you, anything at all, just let me know because…,” he said, looking down and seemingly groping for a thought.
“I just received your information today, and you have to admit, I mean, I was surprised, at least, about, you know. Is it true that you just have no power?”
Mira had been watching him as he struggled to get out his thought. She found his manner both unnerving and endearing.
“That’s right,” she said. “No powers. What you see is what you get.”
“Really?” Ogden said as if he finally believed it. He looked her straight in the eyes. “It’s not going to be easy for you. I hope you know that. And I can’t be seen to give you any special treatment or assistance. Gotta keep things equal. It wouldn’t be fair to the other students.”
Her parents gave each other a look, but Mira nodded again.
“Of course. But there is one small thing you could do for me, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
Ogden gave her a suspicious look.
“What is it?”
“The other students don’t know about me yet. If we kept it a secret, perhaps I might be able to use that to my advantage. Do you see what I’m saying?”
Her parents gave each other a more urgent look. Ogden simply smiled.
“Some mind games, huh? I like it. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Can I get you a beverage or a snack, Mr. Fortst? Would you like to sit down?” Jeana asked.
“Thanks for the offer, but I must be on my way. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning,” he said to Mira. Standing up, he nodded to her folks, and just like that he was gone. They heard the front door shut and again they were left to themselves. Mira turned to look at her parents, both of whom were smiling down on her.
“Got something up your sleeve?”
“Maybe.”
“Better make sure to get plenty of rest tonight so you’re ready for your big day tomorrow.”
“That, at least, is one thing I can count on.”
Chapter 5: The Tournament Trial
Feeling like a family of butterflies had nested in her stomach, Mira set out to journey from her home to the schoolhouse. If attending a new school on the first day wasn’t hard enough, she thought, the pressure of having to compete against classmates she knew nothing about would crush her. Her only hope was that they knew nothing about her too.
Saying goodbye to her parents, her mother, almost in tears, had told her to just try her hardest and never give up. Hugging her tightly, she accidentally put Mira to sleep.
“Well that won’t do!” Jeana moaned, shaking Mira awake.
Mira thought about her mother’s words, and she imagined if she just tried hard enough she might be able to find a way. Of course, she knew it wouldn’t hurt to be a little lucky too.
Approaching the outpost, she saw other students wearing the same outfit as hers. They laughed and pushed each other, appearing perfectly comfortable. She watched them when they slipped onto the trail near the marble rock that she would walk down in a moment. Her eyes still on them, she almost collided with another boy as he entered the trail. This particular boy had reddish hair and very bright eyes.
“Hi,” he said, but Mira felt shy, so she only nodded. She followed him down the trail in silence, listening to the wind in the orange and red leaves and the echoing sound of laughter from other students.
Approaching the schoolhouse, a few students finished talking and ran inside. Judging by the noise, she could tell that everyone had already arrived. A sudden panic that she was late crossed her mind. Peeking her head through the door, she realized Mr. Fortst had not yet shown up and only one desk in the back was empty. Before she took it, she noticed several students had moved their desks as far away from one other student as possible.
She wondered why, but she soon became more focused on her new desk, which the students had avoided too. It wobbled and a sizable crack in the seat meant that the bottom might give out at any time. Sighing quietly to herself, she gingerly set down on the seat. No one paid her any attention and she just kept to herself.
Moments later, heavy footsteps approached the schoolhouse and all of the students immediately sat up straight, looked forward, and shushed. Still wearing the thick overcoat that reached up to his hair, Ogden Fortst took his place behind the podium with a twirl, gripping the sides with his big hands and leering down at the fifteen students before him.
“Hey you, kid!” he abruptly shouted. “Close that door. Let’s get started here.” One of the boys near the back ducked into the aisle and pulled the rickety piece of wood shut.
“Opening ceremony: check,” he said aloud to himself.
Fortst stood there looking down at the students. The students looked up at Fortst. They labored through a few intense moments of looking at each other.
“Ok, I’m going to be your teacher now. So you’d better listen to what I say or there’s gonna be trouble. We’re going to be working hard, and I don’t want to hear any complaining. Things could get very dangerous for you, especially with all that’s happening in the world now. I’ve been to the warfront and fought with our allies. I’ve seen the cruel enemy sun do the bidding of evil. Let me tell you, it’s not pretty! So you’d better be ready for it.”
He extended a scrutinizing glance to the students and took stock of the impact of his words. He seemed satisfied.
“Inspiring words: check.”
After another prolonged pause, Fortst suddenly sprung into action.
“You may be wondering who I am. Well, let me show you.” He pulled out a clear glass container from behind the lectern and set it on a nearby table. Next, he poured some water into it from a bottle he carried inside his coat.
“You, girl, what’s the temperature of this water?” The girl he had pointed to in the front row stood up, leaned over, and put her hand against the container. She replied that the water was cold.
“Ok, can you please come up here?” Fortst gestured to the boy whom the other students had moved their desks away from. Though a large, stocky boy, he was not as tall as Fortst. The boy got up and stood next to Fortst, who immediately put his hand up to his face to shield himself.
“Wow, that’s warm. I’ve got a feeling you’ll have a lot more friends come winter. What’s your name?”
“My name’s Dennis,” he said.
Fortst put one hand on Dennis and the other in the bowl of water. The students watched, and after a few seconds bubbles formed in the water. Gradually the water came to a full boil, his hand still inside the bowl. Finally, removing both of his hands, he gave a short bow and the students clapped.
“Thank you, thank you. All right. The plan for today is first we’ll have a lecture and then this afternoon we’ll decide your ranks based on the results of a one v. one tournament,” he said, while pouring the water back in his bottle. The mention of the tournament perked everyone’s interest. A few students threw up their hands and asked questions about the format of the competition. Fortst waved them all off.
“No, no, no. This one’s a surprise. You won’t know until you get there. We’ve got a lot to cover first.”
The students leaned back in their chairs, already losing interest, while the teacher roused himself for his first lecture.
“The most important thing I can teach you is to know your surroundings. You’ve got to know everything about where you are at all times or else you could be in serious trouble. You’ve got to understand it. Look out the window here.
What do you see? Trees, the forest, uneven terrain, and brightly colored leaves. But, who can tell me why the leaves change colors?”
Fortst stood near the window, gazing over the silent students before him. He waited patiently, making it clear that he expected an answer. His pupils, however, remained motionless. Feeling it was silly to stall the class when she knew the answer, Mira raised her hand.
“Yes, you in the back.”
“Leaves change colors because they have less of the green-colored chlorophyll, which turns water and carbon dioxide into food for the tree. Because there is less light and water in the fall, trees make less chlorophyll. The colors come from the food, called glucose, and the wastes that remain in the leaves.”
Fortst stared at her blankly. Some of the students had turned to look at her, their faces equally blank.
“I was just going to say because it gets cold. Okay, then why don’t those trees with the needles change colors or become bare?” he asked, pointing to an evergreen, and clearly trying to save face.
“Those kinds of trees, called coniferous trees, are better suited for colder climates, and so they have needles that use less energy and keep them all year round. They still have chlorophyll and turn the gas into food, in a process called photosynthesis. Trees with big leaves that change colors and fall are called deciduous trees, by the way.”
Now all of the students had turned to look at her. Fortst was obviously speechless.
“What kind of tree is that?” he asked.
“It’s a pine tree.”
“What about that white one?”
“That’s a birch tree,” she answered, even though she couldn’t see it.