Whisk stared at the boulder in front of her with intense concentration while trees surrounded her. She took a deep breath and closed her right brown eye and her left bright blue eye. She raised her right hand to her temple and her left hand outstretched towards the boulder. In her mind, she emptied all thoughts and focused on the boulder, and its proportions. This boulder was a firm type and kept its balance flawlessly. Whisk imagined the boulder, in her mind, to float. Whisk felt a crack and some sensations from the soles of her feet and imagined the boulder hovering in mid-air. Suddenly, she felt a sharp forceful pain in her head and lost all concentration. She groaned and put her hands up to massage her temples from her pulsing head. That task was a bit too large for her to handle. She heard a thunderous crash and opened her eyes. She smiled softly at the improvement she made; the rock was on its side, different from its preceding position. She ran her fingers through her reddish-brown tresses and started to jump up and down. Even at age seventeen, Whisk was still a child at heart. Whisk unexpectedly stopped and winced a bit; that headache wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
Whisk was a Graceling, and her grace was very rare. She was graced with telekinesis; the influence to move something by thinking about the object not including applying any physical force. Once she figured out her grace, she became joyful, but distant. She didn't like the idea of someone knowing her grace, even if she knew her king, Ror, was kind and understandable. She heard the story of the king of Monsea, Leck, who had a grace of persuasion, and she had doubts about everything and anything.
Whisk had found her grace at the age of fourteen when she went into her family's underground emergency shelter because she was curious what was in the dark room. Once she went in, all she saw was pitch darkness, except for the lamp in her hand, curled tightly in her hand. She tripped over a small box, but kept her poise. She carefully put the lamp on the concrete ground and picked up the box, examining it closely. She saw a handle on the side and slowly twisted it clockwise; it had a small musical noise to it, but playful. She cracked a smile and went rapidly. Everything went downhill from there… A puppet like figure popped out and Whisk let out a scream of her life. She dropped the cursed box and backed away, still screaming in the process. At that moment, she wanted that thing crushed. Objects started to crash onto the harmless box; rocks, books, food, anything. After a few minutes of viciousness, she started to think rationally and left the underground room in a flash. That was the first day she found out what her powers were, the damage, yet usefulness it could do.
Whisk was snapped out of her reminiscence by her older sister's voice. She sighed and started to pluck the dirt between her toes, waiting for her sister to come into view. She heard light panting and craned her neck over her shoulder to the figure behind her.
"Violet, what's wrong?" Whisk asked, fully facing her older sister, who was older than her by two years. Violet stood up straight with her long brown hair, and gave Whisk a full-throttle glare.
"Where in the devil were you? I was looking through the whole forest for you." Violet said in annoyance, "My dress got ripped."
"Oh…Isn't that a pity?" Whisk said bluntly, picking up her shoes and slightly smirked at the boulder. That was just one step closer to controlling her powers with no trouble. Whisk started to click her tongue and walked to where her sister was.
"My lord, Whisk! Stop that noise, you know I hate it!" Violet said with annoyance in her voice. Whisk just rolled her eyes and kept clicking her tongue all the way home.
"How was your progress today?" Whisk's Father, Cipher, asked, giving Whisk a hug. Whisk sighed and hugged her father back before stretching so that her back made a satisfying pop sound. Whisk heard her sister made a gagging sound and laughed. They all heard steps coming down the stairs as Whisk turned around and stared awkwardly at their mother, Lucile. They weren't exactly on the greatest terms. She was hoping that Whisk would get married soon, but Whisk would always reject any chance her mother offered. Now she thinks that Whisk is going to be a lonely woman who couldn't find love.
"Whisk." Lucile said, and Whisk was sure that there was a hint of exhaustion in her voice. She walked down the rest of the stairs and walked into the kitchen.
"Hello to you too." Whisk muttered under her breath as Violet slightly elbowed her, giving her little sister a look; not a nice one at that. They all walked into the kitchen as Violet and Whisk prepared the table. They soon sat down, as the food was ready and everyone ate quietly; that was how the family ate each day. Whisk took a quick glance at everyone and saw nothing different.
"The food is great, sweetheart." Cipher said, clearing his throat. Their mother just smiled at him and kept eating…
"I told King Ror about your grace and wants to see you at the break of dawn, tomorrow." Lucile said. Whisk dropped her spoon into her bowl as her soup went splashing onto her clothes. The air was getting thick.
"You…How dare you!" Whisk yelled, slamming her fist onto the table, "How dare you tell the king of my grace!"
"Whisk! Don't talk to your mother like that!" Cipher shouted, glaring at his daughter with a disappointed look.
"S-she told the King without my consent. How the heck should I react?" Whisk demanded as her bowl was sent flying into a wall.
"That would give you a better opportunity to find a man to court you." Lucile replied calmly, but not for long.
"Why would I want some stuck up man as my husband? They would only want my body, nothing more!" Whisk retorted as her mother's face was twisted in anger, "When I find someone to court me, I will do it under my own consent, not yours or anyone!"
"You ungrateful child! You think you can handle the world by yourself, at least Violet is more appreciative!" Lucile said, standing up too. At this moment, Cipher made a quick getaway out the door and Violet slumped even more into her seat.
"See? You always compare me to Violet! Just to let you know, I am not her! I will never be her!" Whisk shouted as the chair beneath her started to crack and so did other chairs.
"Maybe that is why you'll never find happiness!" Lucile screamed.
"No! I will find true happiness, but not in this place with you, you…you witch!" Whisk yelled as her chair exploded into pieces. She ignored the splinters that she was stepping on, left the dining room, and out the house where she found her father staring over the horizon. She swiftly walked over to him and sat next to him. She looked over and saw that he was memorized by the sunset.
"You shouldn't get mad at her, she was trying her best." Cipher said, out of the blue. Whisk sighed and brought her knees close to her.
"She should know that I didn't plan on telling anyone." Whisk muttered, glaring at a tree, hoping at this moment it would burn down. She was still angry at what her mother had done.
"She did it so you cou-"
"I know Father, I know. You don't have to tell me twice." Whisk said, placing her head on his broad shoulder, "But she still had no right."
"Don't you ever think that she is trying to help you?" He inquired to Whisk as she snorted in doubt.
"I can make my own decisions when it's necessary, thank you very much." Whisk said, in arrogance. She felt a large hand on her hair and sighed.
"I know you have doubt of King Ror, but maybe when you get a chance to meet him, you will see that he is not like King Leck of Monsea." He said. Whisk stayed silent and still stared over the horizon, but Cipher kept going, "If you won't do it for your mother…Do it for me, or Violet!"
Violet. Would Whisk do it for her sister? No, she was too stubborn to own up to defeat, especially to her mother. Whisk stood up, slipped off her shoes, and carried them as she went down the hill.
"Wait, Whisk! Where are you going, it's getting dark!" Cipher called out, as Whisk heard his profound footsteps following her, "Do you know what your mother would say?"
"I know what she would say, and honestly, she could shove it up her butt for all I care." Whisk said impassively, walking even at a quicker pace.
"Whisk! What did you say about your mother?" Cipher demanded as she flashed a quick smile at him. As Cipher and her walked down to an open area with trees, she scanned the perimeter and nodded to herself; no one was in the region. She looked over and saw her father gazing at her strictly. She pouted and pondered for a moment that maybe it was a dreadful idea to bring him. She shook her head and planted herself in the soil and brought her hands to her temple. She cleared her thoughts as she did earlier today and focused on what she saw, and what she could levitate. She thought for a moment before a cunning grin crept onto her face. She would be chastised for this, but who said she couldn't have fun once in a while. She swiftly turned around to face her puzzled father.
"What is it, darling?" He asked Whisk, who just grinned; he was unsure of what she was planning.
"How much do you weigh, father? Two-thirty?" Whisk asked as if it wasn't offensive.
"…Uh, that is a…unnecessary question, I don't not like to talk about my weight." He said, raising an eyebrow at his daughter.
"Don't be a sourpuss, I know you have been sneaking those sweets, now please tell me." Whisk said, showing impatience.
"My god... Two-eighty, alright?" Cipher said with a slight edge in his voice, but Whisk ignored it. She brought her hands to her temples and concentrated on her father, and his… two hundred and fifty pounds. She really didn't need an exact weight, but she just wanted to irritate him. After a few seconds, which felt like minutes to Whisk, she heard a yelp in shock and opened one eye to her father, and smirked at her glory. He was in mid-air, flapping his arms around like a bird, and screaming. Whisk soon realized that she could remove her temples, stand up, and still have concentration over her father. She walked around his floating figure a few times before barely looking at him.
"Father, calm down, it's not like you're dying, think as if you're flying!" She shouted over his yelling; his scream was like of a woman. He soon calmed down and looked over the area.
"What are you d-doing to me?" he asked, flipping around in the air.
"Actually, I am not sure. The truth is that I never really tried my Grace of a human; this is pretty cool." Whisk said, tapping her forehead with her index finger, "I think it's because I actually knew your exact weight, and my mind is only concentrating on you. How does it feel to be flying?"
Her father didn't answer right away as he tried swimming through the air, and Whisk started to pout; she wanted to try it too, but never thought about trying her grace on herself…
"It feels…Peaceful, calming, relaxing…" He said with a soft smile, "Too bad you can't try it." He added as Whisk raised an eyebrow. She quickly thought of anything else than him. She saw him fall on his stomach, quickly followed by a groan in pain.
"Whoops, my apologies." Whisk said sarcastically, walking back up the hill. Her father started to grumble to himself as he followed his daughter back.
"Is this what I get for not stopping the fight between you and your mother?" He muttered as Whisk rolled her eyes.
"Nope, that was for screaming like a girl."