A/N: A big thanks to those who've reviewed! After 4 chapters and no reviews, I had begun to wonder if the character wasn't that popular, or my writing put people off. But your reviews were consoling… I hope you continue to enjoy!
Chapter 6
Thud.
Elizabeth Wakefield turned around sharply at the unexpected sound, stifling a reflexive gasp. She had just gotten home from school, a few minutes earlier than Jessica. She hadn't expected anybody to be at home as of yet, and the sound and the distinctive groan (?) she had heard just then was enough to give her vague misgivings.
She opened the door and entered the den, where she suspected the sound had come from. To her surprise, it was her brother, lying face down on the floor, which, even more surprisingly, bore a large jagged crack extending from one end of the room toward the other. Maybe Steven had taken a fall or something, but surely he wasn't as heavy as to crack the floor?
At that moment, as Elizabeth stood in bafflement at the entrance to the den, Steven stirred and got to his feet, muttering rather unintelligibly. He stood for some time unsteadily, blinking his eyes, forcing them to focus. When he was apparently satisfied, he looked up toward the door- at Elizabeth, and nearly fell over again.
"El- Elizabeth!" he sputtered. "What're you doing here?"
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "I do live here, last time I checked."
Steven grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, it was a stupid question to ask." He edged past her, towards the door, but Elizabeth caught his arm. "Yeah, it was a stupid question." She smiled at him. "A better question, you see, and one that I am about to ask you, is, what in the world are you doing here so early, and why did you see fit to crack the floor?"
Steven's eyes widened, as if he were noticing the floor for the first time. "I am allowed to come a bit early, aren't I? And besides, I don't know anything about that crack."
Once again her eyebrows shot up. "Oh? Then why were you lying face down on it?"
Steven frowned, annoyed. "Don't bug me, all right?"
Elizabeth had a sharp retort poised on her lips, but her words died out. Somehow, memories of the evening of two days ago, when Steven got to know the truth, still were painfully fresh in her mind. She released his arm. "I'm sorry, Steven," she said, looking away. "I guess I shouldn't pry."
There were a couple of moments of silence before Steven smiled warmly at her, dispelling the light tension. "Hey, Liz, that's what makes you such a great journalist." He was referring to her working on the SVH student newspaper- The Oracle, as a columnist. Her writing and journalistic talents were well known and appreciated. "I probably shouldn't have snapped, either."
His sister opened her mouth once again, most probably to ask something else, when he quickly edged past her, the smile now somewhat strained. "Hey, but you know what? I've got some, um, homework unfinished up there, and I, uh, really got to go and finish it…" With that, he took off in a sprint toward his room, leaving Elizabeth in a surprised daze.
She quickly recovered though, and walked slowly toward the crack on the wooden floor. It wasn't too wide, but definitely long. She found herself shuddering at what her mother, an interior designer, would say when she saw this. She would probably have a fit.
Elizabeth ran her fingers along it, her lips twisting into a thoughtful, yet determined scowl. The sight of her brother lying sprawled on this crack, groaning, was etched into her brain, refusing to be ignored. There was something fishy over here, and all her instincts screamed at her to check it out. She brought her fingers up and her eyes widened at the sight of glimmering, very-nearly invisible blue powder covering her fair digits. Her eyes wandered up the stairs again, to rest on the door to Steven's room, which was the first on the landing.
Hmm…There was something fishy going on, something that involved her brother, something that was happening under her very nose.
Elizabeth's lips set themselves in a full-out frown. She was not sure what was happening, why it was happening, how, or when. But she was sure of one thing:
She wasn't going rest until she found out.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Seven days.
It had been seven days since he had discovered his 'power' and it was still causing him pure hell. He'd tried practising as much as he could, trying to control water, wind, had even tried ground control. Unfortunately, he had erred in his choice of place: the living room. He could still remember Elizabeth's suspicious gaze boring into him, and, if he knew her well, she would've probably started her 'investigating' by now.
Pure hell, alright.
"If you want to think clearly, I would suggest stopping the angry pacing," a familiar deep voice sounded, preceded by an equally-familiar whirring. "Anger clouds judgement, leading to erroneous use of power… something that has created many Raydevils."
Steven snapped his gaze to Kal, who was staring at him, following his every movement, his murky brown eyes wide and serious. "You want me to calm down?" Steven growled. "Like hell I'll calm down! It's been just seven days, just seven days, and already I've managed to wreck my family's living room, and have both my sisters after my back! And, in seven days, I've not managed to control my power properly at all… hell, I haven't achieved anything other than getting my family suspicious, alienating my friends, and breaking up with my girlfriend! And you want me to calm down!"
Kal was absolutely unruffled by this outburst. "Raising your voice is also another unrequired, and possibly dangerous, action. Also, your constant use of 'seven days' when a 'week' would suffice suggests that you are tired, and possibly afraid, of this responsibility that has been thrust onto you. Am I right?"
Not a word escaped the seventeen-year-old's lips, and nor did his scowl.
Kal sighed. "I thought we had already discussed this, and had reached an amiable conclusion. Why is it that you're afraid now?"
Steven blew out through pursed lips, diffusing his anger, leaving it to be replaced by confused despair. "I'm not afraid," he said quietly. "I guess I am… frustrated. However much I try, practice, things just don't work out the way I want them to… Maybe I'm not meant for this sort of thing at all…"
Kal sighed yet again, and Steven felt his anger growing once more. "You're going to say, 'I expected better from you,' right? Or maybe 'You don't deserve such high responsibility'?"
Kal looked up at him, his eyes graver than ever. "You're wrong Steven; I had not intended to say those things at all. In fact, I had expected no more than this." He put up his scabby hands before Steven could get in a word. "Now, before your raw mood induces you to take my words in a meaning other than my original intention, let me explain: I perfectly understand what you're feeling, and I would like to say that, for the progress you've made so far, I'm extremely proud of you."
One eyebrow arched sceptically on his young master's face. "Progress?"
The firsk nodded. "Yes. You've progressed far better than any other members of the Clan that I knew in your situation." Kal's nose twitched. "Your frustration is nothing but a product of your impatience, which is in turn a product of the overly-materialistic life that you lead. Attunement to nature is not like a… what do you call it? ...ah, video game, which you can master within a few hours. For many it has taken even years to achieve even basic natural attunement. For you, it will be faster, of course, thanks to the boundless talent that runs through your veins, but not as fast as you think, or want."
Steven started pacing again. "Materialism," he said, still sceptical. "So you're saying, Kal, that my materialistic way of life is the problem? What do you want me to do, give up all my worldly possessions and go meditate in some forest?"
Kal chuckled. "An alluring idea, but not plausible in your current situation." Once again the seriousness settled like a mask on his wrinkled face. "Perhaps I was a little too strong in my choice of words. Perhaps I could advise you that a little more concentration and a little less distraction would do you wonders."
The firsk suddenly smiled, and settled more comfortably on Steven's bed. He gestured toward the jug of water that Steven had on his desk, placed there so that he need not go downstairs whenever he felt thirsty during the night.
At least, that's what he'd told his parents, when he'd started the habit, a week ago. Its real use was entirely different.
"Let's try again," the firsk said, folding his legs beneath him, and closing his eyes. "Try moving the water toward me, and back into the jug again." There was some silence as Steven glared defiantly at Kal. Finally, he realised the futility of the expression on the patient firsk, closed his eyes, and concentrated.
He pictured the water in the jug in his mind: the transparent, still surface; the distorted view of the bottom and the sides of the jug from within the water; the even texture. Then he went even deeper, visualising the water on a molecular level, feeling the bonded hydrogen and oxygen atoms, the boundless energy stored within the seemingly infinitesimal nucleus.
He lifted one hand slowly, focusing that energy, reining it in his mind. The blue light enveloped his outstretched hand, and the lid of the jug vibrated violently. Both firsk and teenager ignored it, the latter concentrating even harder. Finally, the lid, with one last loud shake, tumbled to the floor. The water rose out, in little transparent globules, like they would appear in zero-gravity. These globules moved obediently with every movement of Steven's hand. The young man stared at them in fascination, eyes as wide as dinner plates. He'd never gotten this far before.
"No distraction, Steven," Kal murmured suddenly.
With a determined nod, he closed his eyes, centring his very consciousness on those globules of water, forgetting everything else. Through the focus he had on the water, he spread his perceptive sense around the room, like refracted light. It was like he had a 3-D picture of the room in his head. Using that, he slowly moved the water closer and closer to Kal's head, until the globules were right above the creature's head. Steven smiled in satisfaction and prepared to move the globules back toward the open jug, when…
Tap tap. "Steven? It's me, Elizabeth. May I come in?"
Splash. Steven, startled out of his meditation, inevitably lost control of the water, and it, losing its globular form, fell unceremoniously on Kal's head. A thoroughly disgruntled Kal snapped something in a language Steven couldn't understand; the meaning was obvious however. Steven frowned fiercely. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Uh, Steven?" Though muffled, the concern in his sister's voice was clear. "What's going on in there?"
Gesturing for Kal to get inside the Book, Steven tried in vain to wipe his mattress dry. Once Kal had disappeared, he opened the door, more than a bit annoyed at Elizabeth's intervention. "What?" he snapped.
She widened her eyes, taken aback by her brother's uncharacteristic grumpiness. "Er… I just came to- to take my…book back."
Steven's eyes narrowed in suspicion. The reason, though true, was not the real cause for her coming here, he knew. Damn her "investigative reporter" career ambitions! "Which one?"
"The -er- one by… um, Mary Shelley—Frankenstein."
He grabbed the book from his desk and thrust it into her hands. "Thanks," he said shortly. Elizabeth nodded, but didn't make any move to go. "So… did you like it?" she asked, unconsciously fingering the edge of the cover of the book in short, nervous movements. Her eyes kept darting to look around him, and into the room. He stepped farther forward, his broad shoulders obstructing her view. "Yeah, I did. It was… cool." He smiled tightly and shrugged, for lack of a better thing to say. "Well, I should be getting back to my homework." He took a step inside, his fingers resting lightly on the doorknob, giving his sister more than a hint as to what he wanted then.
But the girl just didn't seem to get it!
"Say, Steven," the fourteen-year-old said, her aquamarine eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What was that splash I heard inside?"
Steven rolled his eyes, restraining himself, with great difficulty, from yelling at her. "It was nothing, must be somebody from outside." He gestured vaguely toward the window. "Now, if you don't mind, Liz, I should be getting back to work…"
"Is it a play?"
Steven squinted at her. "What?"
"A play," Elizabeth repeated, a smirk lifting a corner of her lips. "I heard you talking to yourself, and might I add that they were pretty weird things for one to be telling oneself, and I was wondering if you were practising for a play."
Her brother very nearly gulped, praying that he was not perspiring too much. "Yeah, I was," he said slowly. "A play… a simple class play, for tomorrow. English Lit. Class."
The smirk still did not fade. "I see… well, thanks for returning the book, Steven." She swirled on her heel and started walking down the stairs. Just before Steven closed the door, however, she turned around, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, and Steven?" she said. "Do say Hi to 'Kal' for me, will you?"
He froze, staring at her in utter horror. She laughed and winked at him, and disappeared down the stairs. With shaking hands, Steven closed the door and sagged against it, disbelieving. Did Elizabeth know everything…?
Kal emerged out of the Book again, a grin splitting his face. "I would not like to be annoying," he said. "But I do believe that I had strongly advised you not to raise your voice."
Steven felt too shocked to even respond. Elizabeth knew… Oh god, what was he going to do?
"An interesting girl, your sister," Kal said conversationally. "Intelligent and perceptive… that's good."
Steven glared at him. "Good! Yeah, right. She knows everything, and she might just blabber it out…"
"You don't really know that she knows what you think she knows," Kal pointed out. "It is stupid to worry about something that has no proven base. Even if she does, she's not stupid enough to go and spill out to somebody."
Kal's smile grew wider. "But anyway, I am very happy with the progress we've made today- it was spectacular in fact. I'm finally starting to envision a glowing future for the Magic Clan…"
Kal's voice faded away into the distance, as Steven stared out the window at the glorious orange-red sunset. Night would soon fall, but everyone would sleep well, anticipating the next day, the new endeavours, steps that they would take.
He supposed that he should look forward to it, too. Whatever the Raydevils threatened to do to him, whatever Elizabeth knew, whatever nightmare that was in store for him in the future, there would always be light at the end- a bright morning, after a long and treacherous night.
There was a tomorrow, and that gave him hope.
