by Indie Gantz
The stone begins to flicker in Tirigan’s hand. The purple hue fades, as if the stone is being drained of its color, but nothing else happens. Just as I’m about to ask Tirigan what he’s thinking about, something begins to materialize next to the stone. I can’t tell what it is at first, the particles of the object appear very slowly, almost like a shimmering mirage. It doesn’t take but another moment, though, to see that the object forming is another stone. A quartz stone, just like the stone Tirigan had casted into moments before, which now has no trace of purple left inside of it.
The room is painfully quiet as we all stare at the two stones in Tirigan’s hand.
“But where did it come from?” Oleander asks in a whisper, lifting himself off of the bed and walking over to Tirigan. He picks the second stone up from Tirigan’s hand and holds it closer for inspection.
“From the other stone?” I suggest, standing and leaning in toward Oleander to look at the stone.
“It’s exactly the same,” Oleander murmurs, picking up the first stone and comparing the two. “It’s an exact copy of the first one. Size, shape, color.”
“But where did it come from?”Avias repeats Oleander’s earlier question. “What were you thinking when you invoked the stone, Tirigan?”
“Power,” he replies, obviously bewildered.
“Just, power?” I ask, a slight edge to my voice. Tirigan’s demeanor changes as waves of bitter defensiveness radiate off of him. I don’t have time to be thrilled that Tirigan is allowing me to experience his emotions again, before he responds back harshly.
Well, I didn’t exactly have something more specific to concentrate on, did I?
Avias and I both recoil.
“It was a simple question, I didn’t mean—” I try to apologize, taken back by Tirigan’s strong reaction, but he cuts me off.
“It’s fine,” he replies coldly. He closes his mind to me.
We stand there awkwardly, unsure of what just happened, until Oleander breaks the silence.
“Well,” Oleander starts, looking between Avias, Tirigan, and me, sidestepping the sudden tension. “It doesn’t look as though you pulled the molecules from the first rock to create the second, seeing as how the first one is still structurally sound.”
“No,” Avias joins in, eyeing Tirigan carefully for a second longer, before returning his gaze to the stone. He plucks it out of Oleander’s fingers. “It’s simply a copy.”
“That’s impossible,” I quickly argue. “You said the laws of nature prevent anything from being created or destroyed, that we can only manipulate what’s already there.”
“That’s what we were taught, yes,” Avias replies smoothly. “But our knowledge of Earth’s laws could be just as limited as our knowledge of its current inhabitants.”
“Avias is right,” Oleander replies, looking between Tirigan and I. “We didn’t know your people existed. Who knows what else we don’t know.” He pauses and his mouth pulls into a frown. “Although…”
“Although what?” I ask.
“Well, now, don’t take this the wrong way but… it’s sort of blasphemous. Isn’t it?” Oleander looks over to Avias, who eyes him wearily. “No, no. I don’t mean to… I’m just saying that only the Divine Spirit is supposed to be able to create, and now here you two are… creating. The energy levels and matter that make up the Earth are supposed to stay constant. It just… it doesn’t feel right.”
“I believe you’re confusing your religion for the laws of thermodynamics,” Tirigan retorts and not kindly.
Oleander turns to him, stung, but beseeching. “I know how it sounds, but… those laws were only created because the Divine Spirit willed it so. I’m sorry, it’s just… this isn’t right.”
I don’t know how to respond. I’m instantly crushed by his words, but I can’t really argue with them either.
Avias, however, seems to have plenty to say on the subject.
“Oleander, as much as I respect your beliefs, you can’t cast doubts on Charlie and Tirigan because of them. As we’ve discussed, time and time again, there’s no definitive proof of the Divine Spirit’s existence, and if your belief in it impacts a good person negatively, I’d expect you to challenge those beliefs. Claiming blasphemy in the name of that which you cannot prove only introduces a kind of false fallacy that you’ll find difficult to escape.”
We all digest Avias’ words in silence. When Oleander speaks, his voice is heavy with emotion.
“Avias…” Oleander replies softly, shaking his head then turning to me and Tirigan. “Charlie, Tirigan, I didn’t mean to imply that you were somehow… wrong. I’m simply confused. The natural laws of Earth, the Divine Spirit’s laws, are not something I’ve ever questioned. I’ve never had to.” He looks as though he could cry, and it pains me more than the betrayal I felt a moment before. “I sincerely apologize if I—”
“Hey.” I reach out and place my hand on Oleander’s arm. “I get it. You lived your whole life believing one thing, and then it turns out not to be what you thought. Believe me, I can relate.”
Tirigan nods. “If you can open your mind enough to accept us, we can certainly be forgiving in your struggle to understand.”
Oleander, eyes wet and regretful, smiles gratefully. He puts the stones in my hand and walks back to the bed, where he sits and doesn’t speak again.
“So...” I say after a few moments, looking back at Tirigan to find his expression soft, but also slightly puzzled. “You just created a new stone out of thin air?”
“Not purposefully,” Tirigan answers. “That seems to be the basic invocation for our kind, just like a flame for Fotiá or a gust of wind for Aéras.
“Tirigan is right,” Avias agrees. “It’s not as if you produced an Eidikós. This is just the basic cast for your element, whatever that may be.”
“Now we’re an entirely different element?” I question with eyebrows raised incredulously.
“It would appear so,” Avias responds, unaffected. His gaze falls to Tirigan. “Don’t you think?”
Tirigan shrugs but says nothing. He furrows his brows together and picks the stones out of my hand.
“So, I guess this means we have even more to learn,” I say with a bitter laugh. “I mean, creating things out of thin air seems like something we should try to get a handle on.”
Tirigan’s lost in thought, his eyes on the stones and unblinking.
“I wonder...” Avias murmurs and then stops when Tirigan looks up at him. They seem to exchange thoughts, because Avias’ face becomes grave, and Tirigan suddenly has trouble meeting his eyes again.
Avias opens his hand and holds it out to Tirigan, who cautiously drops the stones into his palm. Avias then turns and offers one to me.
“A theory,” he says, as if that explains what he’s thinking.
Cautiously, I take the stone. “You want me to do it too?”
“In a way.”
“In a way,” I echo back robotically.
“Yes.” Avias nods. He looks back at Tirigan, but my brother has turned his back to us. He resumes his spot on the bed, his shoulders hunched slightly and his head bent down. His finger and thumb rub together quietly. I watch their movement and find myself unconsciously moving closer to him.
Oleander’s still quiet, but there’s a new tension in his shoulders and a strong set to his jaw.
“What... what is it?” I ask, my gaze going between them. “What am I missing here?”
Avias looks to Tirigan to answer my question, but my brother shakes his head and refuses to look up.
“Do you remember what it is that’s cast into a basic stone?” Avias asks carefully.
“Yeah,” I reply, very nervous now. “It’s the essence of your element.”
“Right,” Avias responds, nodding his head. “But the cast Tirigan just preformed isn’t the essence of any element. It’s half of something we thought impossible.”
“Half of the essence?” I repeat with confusion, but only because my mind�
�s more concerned with why Tirigan won’t look at me.
“The most basic law of nature is that nothing can be created or destroyed,” Avias reminds me again, like the answer’s right there and I’m just not seeing it.
I turn away from him and join Tirigan on the bed, sitting far enough away to give him space, but close enough to be comforting. I press against his mind, hoping he allows me in again.
Are you all right?
Just listen to what he is telling you, Charlie.
I sigh and reluctantly turn my attention back to Avias.
“Right, nothing created or destroyed,” I repeat flippantly. “Got it.”
That’s when it clicks.
Nothing can be created or destroyed, but that’s not true anymore, is it? The basic cast for whatever element Tirigan just invoked is to create. Tirigan just defied the laws of nature, and now everyone is looking at me expectantly….
And I just figured out why.
“Destroy,” I finally say with some embarrassment. “The other half. It’s destroy.”
Avias nods slowly. “You’re twins. This fifth element may be impacted by that relationship.”
“So Tirigan creates and I destroy?” I remark with disbelief. “How poetic.”
“Well, it does seem—” Avias tries, but I interrupt.
“But I’ve created things,” I argue. “The Monkey’s Cup. The cheery blossoms. There was a root thing with a Gi Eidikós before we met. Oleander said I’d have to have a crazy amount of power to actually pull those things through the earth. It’s more likely that I created them, right? Just thought them up and pulled them out of the ground?”
“I don’t know, Charlie,” Avias replies. “I think it’s more likely that your Anunnaki blood, your regenerative blood, amplifies your elemental power, which would make it easier for you to pull flowers and trees up from all over the world.” He shakes his head, obviously trying to find answers to the many questions we’re all thinking. “I think you should just try to focus on power, the way Tirigan did. Your element’s energy, whatever it is, will transfer into the stone, and then we’ll know where your power is rooted.”
I want to argue some more, because I really don’t like the implications of this potential revelation, but I don’t. This is too big for my mind to truly process. Besides, this is all speculation. I could easily have the same power as Tirigan. Avias is only guessing at how this might all work. It’s brand new to him too.
Trying to think positively, I lift my hand up and focus on the light pink stone. I clear my mind of all the things swirling inside and concentrate solely on pushing my energy into the stone.
I think only of power. I feel it in my core, moving through me like a current. I feel it accumulate, and then…
Something inside of me hardens. Calcifies. All the light inside me is ripped away, and I’m left alone in the dark. A shiver runs through me, a coldness that settles in my bones as it infiltrates my heart. With a gasp, my eyes fly open to find the pink of the quartz shimmering into a dark shade of indigo.
Our bedroom falls deathly silent, but I’m so focused on not falling to pieces that I barely notice. This feeling… this feeling of cavernous solitude… It lingers. I hear nothing but the sluggish beat of my own heart.
It isn’t until Avias reaches out and places his hand on my arm that I remember there’s a ‘part two’ of this demonstration. I swallow thickly and prepare to invoke whatever it was I just cast inside the stone.
If the stone disappears from my hand, it would imply that my power, essentially the reason for my existence, is to destroy the things around me. It’s enough for my mind to want to curl in on itself and cry. It’s too much. It’s too much power, too much responsibility for one person, but I won’t know for sure until I try.
Throwing all caution to the wind, I suck in a quick breath, focusing all of my energy on invoking the cast of the stone. The quartz grows cool in my hand and then... nothing.
It’s gone. The stone is blinked entirely out of existence.
Avias, Tirigan and I share a fearful, yet resigned look, while Oleander slowly stands up and walks out of the room.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Complications of Existence
Later that night, when the rest of the house is asleep after a modest dinner of pigeon and rice, I’m left counting the wood grains in the ceiling of the bedroom I share with Tirigan.
We told Kor, Vi, and Bo what we learned about our powers over dinner. Vi stayed mostly silent on the subject, aside from encouraging comments about caring for us regardless of our element, while Bo seemed equal parts terrified and jealous at the news.
Kor said something about power being relative to those who possess it, and then he changed the subject by leading the family into a heated discussion on the proper way to cut a sandwich.
After the lively debate, where I just watched Oleander pick at his food while he remained silent, Kor told us more about the solar power research he does for the collective.
The Téssera haven’t recovered enough from the fallout to restore major electrical grids, but there are many individual houses that run on solar power. Anything besides solar is deemed too harmful to the environment, and the Téssera have pledged not to restore the power plants that survived the apocalypse.
Kor, along with a handful of other Téssera on this side of the world, are responsible for figuring out a way to use or restore what survived the asteroid fallout and convert what they can to solar energy. There are hopes to rebuild major cities and have them run off solar power, but there aren’t enough resources to make that happen yet. Of course, having the power to manipulate the elements helps with that.
After dinner, Tirigan and I did the dishes while Oleander helped Robin with basic Earth casting stones in the living room, Avias gave Cyra a bath, and Bo went outside to practice throwing fireballs. Vi and Kor disappeared as soon as Tirigan and I started clearing the table, and I didn’t see them again before we turned in for the night. It felt like a normal evening. It didn’t feel like the world went ahead and changed into something new again.
Now, laying here and listening to Tirigan breathe unsteadily across the room, I regret not talking to Kor and Vi more about what we discovered today. While I appreciate their nonchalance, I would like their opinions. With Oleander’s reaction, I know the subject is sensitive, and if I have to walk on eggshells, I’d like to be prepared.
I’d understand if my friends kept their distance from me now. I can’t even keep myself from going up in smoke during my reoccurring nightmare. If I can’t control that, how—
Tirigan pushes at my mind, and I let the remainder of my thought die. Your emotional state is very distracting Charlie. I can’t sleep.
I jerk my head to the side and look over at my brother’s bed. He has his back to me, his body curled and facing the wall.
Sorry. Can’t help it.
What are you thinking about?
The stones. Our powers. Oleander. Everything. I pause, wait for a response that doesn’t come. It’s a lot of power for one person.
Tirigan doesn’t respond. He closes his mind and processes his thoughts privately.
Sometimes I prefer it that way; filtered and thoughtful responses are usually more helpful. Other times, though, I just want to know what he’s thinking, no matter what it is. Like today with how defensive he became after I challenged his casting stone strategy. While it was certainly a negative reaction, I appreciated the rawness of it.
After a moment, I feel the familiar push of my brother’s mind against my own. Your half of this power is concerning.
But don’t you think it’s likely that we can both create and destroy?
Perhaps, though it seems like one is dominate over the other. We each failed to cast the other half of the element into the stones. I can only cast creation. You can only cast destruction.
I don’t like it. It’s too much power for one person.
It could prove useful though, offensively.
You mean...
I know what he means, but I don’t like the idea of entertaining the thought. If I can push a stone out of existence, who’s to say I couldn’t do the same to a person? A chill runs through my body as I think about committing such an act. Could I do it? Could I essentially kill someone if I needed to? It would certainly be a lot easier than any other method of murder, assuming I would just have to close my eyes and focus my power. No trigger to pull. No blood. No body to mourn over afterwards. It would be the most emotionally distant way to end a life. Not such a big deal when thinking about destroying a creature like the aqrabuamelu, but would there ever be a reason good enough for me to take the life of a Téssera or Anunnaki? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think there might be.
To destroy something entirely, it isn’t the same as blowing it up or shredding it to pieces. Tirigan interrupts my train of thought with thoughts of his own. True destruction is the elimination of every molecule, every atom. They aren’t transformed into ash or absorbed into the soil. They are obliterated from the Earth as if they never existed at all. Tirigan rolls so he is facing me. You could be capable of something truly terrible, Charlie.
Capable isn’t the same as responsible, I argue. I have no intention—
You can’t know what your intentions will be in the future, Tirigan replies. We don’t know what is going to happen to us. If we learn something that could help us find Calla, we will leave. We don’t know where we will end up. You may be forced—
No. I don’t believe that, Tirigan. I prop myself up on my elbow to look at him. We have a choice. Just because you’re physically capable of throwing a knife right through someone’s heart, does that mean you’re going to do it?
Of course not.
Then I don’t see the problem. I close my mind. I don’t want him to know how much I doubt my own words. “I really wish we could figure out what Obispo meant and why that aqrabuamelu was chained up in the jungle like that.”
