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Siriarna
Following the debriefing, I make my way back to the Electricity Propensity classroom. Mykos is casually slouching on a desk in the centre of the room when I arrive. He is animatedly retelling stories of our mission to the huddled members of our group. I walk over to join the discussion, but Astrid and Eloise close the gap, freezing me out.
I hoped Mykos would help smooth things over with the group by including me in his retelling. But he obviously has no intention of doing so; even though Iwasthe right choice for this mission, proven when I successfully penetrated the Earth when he couldn’t.
Me, Me, Me, I think with growing anger.
The lights start to flicker.Oh no, it’s happening again.My pulse is racing, heat is rushing to my cheeks and my eyes are a burning fire of rage. Eloise lets out an ear-piercing scream as broken glass shatters like a tornado around the room. Everyone dives under nearby desks to protect themselves from the falling debris. Everyone but me.
Simeon witnesses the event from the classroom doorway. He rushes toward me and whisks me away from the fallout.
“Stay here,” he instructs. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
From the hallway, I hear him dismiss the class, blaming the incident on faulty electrical wiring. My teammates rush from the classroom, the aftereffects of the incident still fresh and concerning, unaware I am missing from the group. And unawareIwas the cause of the catastrophe.
“I think it’s time we have a little chat Siriarna,” Simeon decrees as he ushers me back into the classroom.
The colour drains from my face. I can’t believe the destruction I just caused. It’s confronting and scary. Simeon sits at a table and indicates for me to do the same. Numbly, I do as he instructs.
“I see your powers are expanding,” he starts.
“I don’t understand what just happened. I wasn’t trying to injure anyone,” I lower my head miserably.
“We must find out what is triggering these outbreaks, and you must learn to control your power,” he says.
“Okay.” It’s all I can manage. I’m listening, but I’m not really hearing the words Simeon is speaking.
“This is not a punishment, Siriarna. You have such great potential. It’s time for us to dig a little deeper and for you to learn control. Go home now and recompose. Tomorrow is a new day. We will work together during our morning sessions and figure this out together,” he says brightly, trying to comfort me.
But all I hear is ‘control’ and that is something I fear I am unable to manage.
Instead of going home, I head straight for Roman’s hut. I need to unload the burden weighing on my mind with my best friend. Knocking on his door, I am already slightly happier. All emotion vanishes as Alexandraya opens the door.
“What are you doing here ‘basic’?” she snarls.
I turn and silently retreat from the hut.
“That’s right, go. We don’t want you here. You’re always in the way—”
I hear Alexandraya’s words fading out behind me as I walk away briskly. The walk soon turns into a jog. The sweat begins to drip down my face and with each droplet, I increase my pace. I follow the pathway straight to the Zen. I’m sprinting now and the wind in my damp hair is exhilarating. It’s keeping mefrom thinking about the obliterated light bulb in the Propensity classroom and Eloise’s horrified scream.
My breathing has become ragged, my heartbeat pounding in my chest. I stop by the water fountain to drink, splash my face, and catch my breath. Then I make my way to the electrical boards. I sit in the middle and try to think about turning on the lights with my mind. Nothing. It’s infuriating.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
I swing my head over my shoulder and find Braxton standing behind me. Before he has a chance to sit, I blurt out the whole classroom debacle, finishing with my chat to Simeon. The relief of getting it off my chest is immediate.
Braxton patiently listens to the whole story. He suggests we go over each time I’ve manipulated electricity by thought to see if we can find a common link. I share with him the incidents in order and severity, but neither of us can find a connection.
“Would you like me to turn back time to before this afternoon’s explosion?” He offers gallantly.
“I didn’t know you were able to conjure a spell that advanced?”
“Yeah, I’m kind of working with the advanced years’ students in private,” he responds sheepishly.
I consider his offer, it’s very tempting. But I remember his previous warnings about memory loss after a time shift. If I can’t remember what I did, how can I stop it from reoccurring? Hanging my head, I decline his proposition.
