by Jason Letts
“It said that I’m missing something.”
“Well, there must have been more. What else?”
“It told me that I can find strength in hiding.”
Pleased, Jeana had much more to say on the subject, and she elaborated on it during their walk home. All the while, Mira thought about the strange words, turning them over in the back of her mind. There was so much she didn’t understand, and it made her think about her frail nature.
By nightfall, everything seemed so complicated and perilous, even when she was in the familiar space of her own room. Every time she glanced out the window, the mysterious implications of her uniqueness made her wonder what she might face out there.
A loud knock at the door startled her. Her parents entered and sat down next to her on the bed. Mira noticed the concerned looks on their faces.
“We know this couldn’t have been easy for you today. And we just wanted to see how you were handling it. Is there anything bothering you that you want to talk about?” Kevin said.
“I do feel different,” Mira said. “It’s like I’ve been living in a dream this entire time. When the dream finally ends, it’s reality you don’t believe. So it’s hard for me to trust it, to know where I fit in. I’m most worried about how people will react to me. When we told Mr. Bogger, the look on his face was like he’d seen a ghost. It must have been so strange for him. I’d hate to get that every time I met anyone.”
“The trick is to just be yourself. If you can act naturally and feel comfortable, the people you meet will feel the same way. You’re a great girl. Don’t be afraid to let others see that.”
“You’re my parents. You have to say that,” Mira said.
“Yes, we do,” Kevin assented.
“But it doesn’t make it any less true,” Jeana added.
Mira thought she’d had her fill of heart-to-heart conversation for now. Already in her pajamas, she climbed under the covers. Her parents stood to leave, then Jeana kneeled down by the bed.
“Would you like me to give you a kiss to send you off to sleep?” she asked.
Mira remembered how uncomfortable she felt about her mother using her power, but after such an extraordinary and troubling day, anything that would provide a sense of normalcy seemed welcome. She nodded and fell asleep as soon as she felt her mother’s lips against her forehead.
Chapter 3: Corey Outpost
Without anything special to do, Mira spent the next two days almost as if the walls had never disappeared and nothing had changed. She continued her routine much as she had before: studying, tinkering in the basement with her machines, and running in the woods.
This worried her parents, her father most of all. Irked by his daughter’s self-imposed captivity, Kevin went looking for Mira. Finding her room and the garden vacant, he shuffled down the wooden steps into the basement, which they used as a storage area. Looking around in the candlelight, he saw Flip Widget’s science manuals lined up against overflowing potted plants and an icebox.
Mira had claimed this space as her own laboratory. Small gadgets, nuts, bolts, and wires occupied the large, brightly lit table in the center. Metal scraps of various shapes and sizes lay on the countertops and on the floor. Kevin had made a habit over the years of finding these kinds of things and planting them in the clutter of the basement.
At the moment, Mira was hard at work taking a screwdriver to a small motor. Her focus and determination impressed Kevin.
“To think that all of these gadgets are possible, but nobody cares enough to make them. Hey, what are you working on now?” he inquired.
“I’m just trying to find a way to get this battery to power the motor, but I don’t think the battery can provide enough electricity. I’ll have to make a bigger one, but that means it’ll be heavier,” she said without looking up.
“Maybe you could reduce the output of the motor. Would the motor still work OK if it had less power?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’m trying to get it to work a drill. Thanks for the idea though. I’ll have to try it out.”
Surprised that he had actually been of some use, something that occurred less frequently as Mira got older, Kevin smiled and watched her for a moment. She manipulated the parts with steady and knowledgeable hands.
“It’s going to take some time. Is there something you wanted?” she said, putting the parts down and looking at her father.
“I thought we would head into town and get you signed up for school. How does that sound?”
He wasn’t sure how Mira would react, but she seemed excited by the proposal.
“Sounds great. Let me go get cleaned up.”
After washing her hands, brushing her hair, and changing into presentable clothes, Mira embarked on the trip into town. They hadn’t been walking long before her initial excitement gave way to worries about life-threatening attacks.
“Dad, are you sure going to school is a good idea for me? How do you know it’s not dangerous and I’m not going to get hurt? Mom said I should be careful around people and that if anything strange happens I should run away.”
Kevin tried to sound calm, hoping not to make his daughter any more fearful. The things he had to say to help her now would’ve been impossible to entertain a few days ago.
“Your mother is right to say running away is a good idea, but what if they chase you? What if you’re in a small space and can’t run away? You’ll need to be able to do something else, and that’s why joining the academy is a good idea. You’ll get experience dealing with different kinds of powers and learn how to fight them, if necessary. It could very well be dangerous, and you will have to be careful, but this is what young people your age do. If you want to live a normal life then you will have to do it, too.”
Though he didn’t say it, Kevin also knew this would be the best opportunity for Mira to actually get to know people her own age. A small tremor of fear came over him at the thought of her spending all day beyond his protection, but she had to do it to become an individual with some semblance of self-sufficiency.
Taking a side road, they approached the massive gate of Corey Outpost. Molded iron lined the edges of its wooden doors, and they stood beneath the awe-inspiring arch adorned with mystical statues. Flags flapped in the breeze above the corners of the fortress. The gate itself stood against a backdrop of rocky peaks, the land in between divided into forest and farmland.
One side of the gate was open, allowing visitors to enter.
Entering the outpost dazzled Mira and left her in a state of wonder. Crowds of people populated a bustling marketplace, and she marveled at the different styles of dress. The bright colors, designs, and accessories that both men and women wore made her curious. She examined the goods they carried with them, seeing many things she had never seen before.
Offices lined the walls of the outpost on both the first and the second floor. She looked at the signs posted above the doors but could only guess what they meant. “Darmen Exchange,” “Infraction Reporting,” and “Reciprocal Usage” particularly puzzled her.
“Dad,” she said, “what are all of these offices for?”
“Mostly for managing town functions. Some are for exchanging communication with Darmen, the capitol city,” he said.
They approached a large stone staircase that led up to the second level. Mira also noticed a similar set of stairs leading down underground. Ascending the steps to the second floor, they walked along the building’s perimeter. Mira peeked through the glass windows and saw a library, a room with a man fighting a small, ferocious animal, and an empty classroom.
Beyond the classroom was an office with the sign that read “Dustfalls Academy—Reception.” Entering the room, they found numerous clerical workers rifling through paperwork behind rows of desks. A woman and a young boy occupied a bench close to the counter. The woman waited patiently while her son, full of energy, jumped up and down on the seat.
Kevin and Mira approached the main desk, where they were told to wa
it. After sitting down, Mira, waving, tried to catch the boy’s attention, and he eventually turned to her.
“Hello. How are you?”
“How are you?” the boy repeated.
“Are you going to start school?” Mira asked. The boy nodded. “Wow, me too!” She noticed the boy’s mother giving her a confused look. Mira returned the same optimistic look she had given the boy.
“Are you five years old?” the mother asked.
Mira didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended.
“No, I’m not. I’m fifteen.”
But the woman shook her head and went back to waiting. Mira and her father spent the rest of their wait in silence. Mira thought about the small boy next to her and how the students she would be meeting in her class would have a nine year head start on her.
Once the Ipswiches were called, they approached a large woman with curly hair and glasses.
“Can I help you?” she grumbled.
“Hi. Yes, this is my daughter and I’d like to enroll her in the academy, senior level.”
The woman’s face took on the same sort of contortion as the mother’s in the waiting area. Still, she reached into a drawer and pulled out the proper document.
“How is it, exactly, that you are enrolling for the first time in the oldest age group?” she asked, pulling off her glasses and looking squarely at Mira.
Kevin cobbled together an explanation. “We taught her at home all these years, but now we’re sick of having her around the house all the time. These schools are such a great thing.”
Content with that answer, the woman behind the desk began filling out the form.
“Name of student?”
“Mira Ipswich,” Mira answered.
“Age?”
“Fifteen years old.”
“Gender?”
Mira rolled her eyes, then flipped her ponytail.
“You think it’s an easy question, but you’d be surprised,” the woman said defensively, marking the appropriate answer on the form. They went through her address, emergency contact information, and physical health. They went over the entire form without problem, until the very last question.
“OK, honey, what is your special gift?”
“Why do you need to know that?” Mira stammered. She didn’t know what to say, and the wait clearly irritated the woman behind the desk.
“Because we try to create a safe learning environment, so the teachers need to know what each student is capable of.”
Mira nodded. That made sense. She looked to her father to answer. He leaned forward and spoke in lowered voice.
“See, she can’t do anything,” he said.
The woman scratched her head. “Oh, so she freezes herself in place.” She began to write on the form.
Kevin shook his head. “No, she doesn’t have a special power.”
The woman strained to make sense of what she heard. She erased what she had written and started to write again. “OK, I got it. She neutralizes special gifts.”
“No, no, no. Let me ask you this. What can you do?”
“I can change the temperature of water.”
“OK, now imagine that you couldn’t do that and nothing substituted for it. That’s how she is. No power, ability, gift, whatever you want to call it.” The volume of his voice increased in proportion with his frustration, catching the attention of the other staff members. It pained Mira to hear herself spoken of this way, and she looked down at the floor. The woman’s jaw dropped and she stared blankly at Kevin.
“One moment please,” she said in a polite tone, which contrasted with her deeply disturbed look. She got up and went over to a circle of the workers that had already formed. Loud whispering, at times with emphatic gestures, punctuated their discussion. Kevin and Mira looked on, unable to hear any of what they said.
“Is it going to be OK, Dad?” she asked, slouching.
“I’ll make it OK,” he said, putting his arm around her and pulling her a little closer.
The woman returned to her desk. Struggling to suppress her emotions, she sat down and reviewed the document. Again erasing what she had written on the bottom part of the form until the surface became rough and thin, she pressed her pen to the paper hard and scrawled a single word, “powerless.”
“We are prepared,” she said, taking a deep breath, “to offer you preliminary approval. No one has ever been turned away before, but then again, those who aren’t cut out for it know better than to apply. Let me ask you, are you sure this is what you want to do?”
Mira experienced a flash of defiance sweep through her. It insulted her that someone thought she couldn’t do something.
“There is nothing else I want more. You’ll see. I’ll be great at it,” she said firmly.
“I bet,” the woman replied, “but you’ll need to get final approval from Corey. You are an unusual case. The senior class instructor is Ogden Fortst. Class starts this coming Monday morning at eight a.m. Do you know where his schoolhouse is?”
Kevin nodded and took the document. The woman added that he needed to return it once it had Corey’s seal.
“Thank you for your help,” Mira said to the entire room, knowing that everyone would be watching her leave.
Descending the stone staircase back to the courtyard, both Kevin and Mira were satisfied with their accomplishment.
“Look at that, a senior already. Cut the foreplay and get right down to business, right?” Kevin joked, and Mira smiled.
“Do you want to see your new schoolhouse?” Mira nodded. “OK, I’m going to set up a meeting with Corey. I’ll tell you how to get there. Head outside the gate and—”
“You mean, alone?” she asked.
“We’re not always going to be around to protect you, and if you’re going to be walking to and from school every day then you might as well get used to it. Remember, no one knows who you are, so they won’t know you’re any different unless you tell them.”
Mira nodded as Kevin stopped beside a set of stone steps leading underground.
“Good, now from the corner of the outpost closest to the forest, you’ll see a small path marked with a large white stone. Just follow that path and you’ll get there.”
Mira agreed, gave her father a hug, and watched him slip underground.
All on her own, Mira meandered through the courtyard, observing people from a safe distance. One man in particular caught her attention. He was wearing metal plating, and leaning against the wall outside of the Darmen Exchange office. He looked to be in his twenties, the first person of that age that Mira had seen. His eyes scanned the crowd, and Mira wasn’t sure if he was afraid. The people entering and exiting the office paid him little attention.
Leaving the courtyard behind and walking through the gate, she turned left and strolled toward the forest.
She came across a large piece of marble with dark streaks cutting through it. A path lay next to it, and Mira decided this must be her path. Then, she noticed a slightly smaller granite rock nearby with another path, and a small limestone rock with its own path. The rocks got smaller and smaller down to a hefty chunk of quartz and volcanic glass. The paths, some of them crisscrossing, looked so jumbled that they couldn’t possibly lead to different destinations.
Surmising that each path led to the schoolhouse of a different grade, Mira returned to the large white piece of marble, which was almost as tall as she was, and started down its narrow path. Leafy boughs and stray branches hung overhead. The sounds of the forest—the birds, the babbling stream, the wind in the leaves—enveloped her.
Feeling the sanctity and contentment of her environment fully, a jarring and unpleasant sound suddenly invaded her peace. Shouts. Taking another twist of the path, she came to a clearing, a frail wooden structure, and two teens in a heated argument.
“That’s not how you do it at all! Don’t you know anything?”
“It would work if you would just listen to me and stop being such a baby!”
M
ira froze, trying to remain concealed and hoping to get away before being seen. But her first step in retreat landed on a crunchy leaf, which sounded like the cracking of bones.
“Who is that?” the girl yelled.
“I don’t know,” said a handsome, stringy boy of dark complexion. He turned to see what it was. Feeling caught, Mira emerged.
“Hi. I’m sorry. Is this the senior schoolhouse?” she asked timidly.
“Yes, yes it is. What’s your name?” he asked.
“My name is Mira Ipswich. I’m going to be attending school here,” she said. The boy smiled.
“Oh, great! My name is Vern Porter. It’s nice to meet you.” He shook her hand. “Who are you?”
The question caught her off guard, but Mira remembered the words she heard in the blackness of the tent: Your greatest strength can be in hiding your weakness.
“Oh, you don’t want to know what I can do. It’s dangerous!” she boasted. The boy mustered a smirk.
“Well you can’t be more powerful than Aoi here, or else they would have taken you away to the capitol a long time ago,” he said. Next to him was a tiny, black-haired girl with two noticeable front teeth. “She is as strong as her heartbeat.”
Before Mira could even begin to ponder what that meant, the girl had already stuck out her hand.
“My name’s Aoi Watanabe. It’s nice to meet you,” she said through a devious smile. Hesitantly, Mira reached out and took her hand, ready to say that it was nice to meet her, but her hand was crushed in the shake.
“Oww!”
“It’s pronounced “owie,” actually,” Aoi said, emphasizing the final vowel sound and then giggling to herself. Vern looked mildly amused.
“You don’t have to tell us now, but you won’t be able to hide for long. We’ll have the Tournament Trial as soon as class starts and it’ll have to come out then. But I predict the result won’t be too different from last year.”
Aoi scowled at him with piercing, malicious eyes.
“Yes, of course, the Tournament Trial,” Mira fibbed. “I know all about that. What happened last year, anyway?”
