A wet October morning drenched Olirian. The skies were black and gray, a foreboding sight, and the air was numbing from the chill that was carried within it. Even as the clocks struck ten, the street lights of the city were powered, casting their warm, amber tones onto the rippling puddles and porous asphalt. It was as if the world was in a perpetual night, a beautiful state to some. Lightning filled the sky with color, giving a brief, momentary break from dreariness, and the cracking applause of thunder was not to be left out. As Ferain watched from the window of her living room, tingling and struggling to control the power building up around, and within her, she imagined the scene as a sort of dance.
The lightning and thunder taking turns, both playing their roles perfectly, and both drawing the attention of everything around them. For Fera at least, the world practically stopped every time the airborne energy popped and sparked and exploded. Her eyes changed focus from the glowing orange lights of the city to her own reflection, her inconsistent irises casting light randomly on the rain-streaked pane of glass.
“We’re looking at another wet morning today, guys and gals. Looks like we’ll be having rain for the next week or so as a front moves through. Do not fret, students and staff alike, it is supposed to clear out just in time for the Halloween celebrations, something I know everyone is excited for.” came a woman’s cheery voice from the television. What followed were fits of static before an unstable picture reappeared and cleared up again.
“How are you feeling?” asked Anita, whose reflection Fera could see in the window. Her silver hair was tied into two tails, one of which had fallen over her right shoulder. She’d let it grow out recently, avoiding any trim-sessions with a barber, and Fera had to admit that it looked good on her. The straight bangs that fell around her face glistened in the soft lighting of the apartment, and the girl’s cloudy, gray eyes seemed to surge with light whenever a flash of lightning lit up the space from outside, though Ferain knew this was just a play of the ambiance. For clothing, Anita decided on a short ruffled skirt that was purple with a white stripe at the base, a cardigan that was a lighter shade of black, and a pair of black tights.
Ferain’s reflected image showed her in an old pair of baggy jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt. Her hair had gotten longer as well, but that was mostly due to neglecting the upkeep of it. She never really cared anyway, not when it came to the untamable disaster that her deep brown hair always was. She looked over her shoulder and flashed an uneasy sort of grimace.
“Not so well, if I’m being honest.” Fera murmured. “It’s a bit hard to control this time.”
“It is a pretty nasty storm.” Anita said. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Not really.” Fera said, but the curve of her lips was genuine now. She didn’t want to make Anita feel helpless or guilty for her situation. It was normal for Ferain at this point to deal with these sorts of things, and it wasn’t anybody’s fault, especially Anita’s. “It’ll pass. Thank you for skipping school with me today though, I appreciate the company.”
“I certainly couldn’t leave you alone, could I? I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but you look kinda terrible and I wanted to look after you. Maybe you should lay down for a bit?”
“Maybe.” Fera softly said, turning towards the window again. A warm yellow glow flickered against the glass as the sky flashed a vivid sapphire. Her mouth clenched as a surge of power ran through her.
“Maybe we should start looking into power-suppressors for you, like what that old agent uses. You mentioned he has those special cigarettes.”
“I… I don’t really want to smoke, Anita.” Fera said.
“Agent Key might have some other ideas to help. We could always ask him. I hate seeing you so inconvenienced every time a storm passes through.”
“Really, Anita, I’m fi–” Fera started, but another explosion cut her off, this one causing her to stumble from the power that ran through her. The window shone blue as a massive bolt of lightning struck right in front of their dormitory. “Grrrrr!” Fera growled, clutching her sides as sapphire currents passed around her body, erupting from every exposed bit of skin like electrical worms digging through the flesh.
“Fera?” Anita asked, but everything was starting to go dark suddenly, and her voice began distorting until all Fera heard was a muffled, echoing sound.
“Gaaaaahhh!” she howled painfully, her eyes burning brighter than they ever had before.
When she opened her eyes, everything was blurred in her vision, but despite this, there was more to see. Everything seemed to be alive with electrical currents, from the walls to the ceiling, and even Anita, who was cautiously walking closer to her. It was like she was viewing an X-Ray of the building’s electrical grid, and every current was vivid and racing along their trajectories at an incredible speed. Overwhelmed by power and feeling like her head was about to burst, she dropped to her knees, panting heavily from the strain this bizarre storm was putting on her body. As she winced, closing one eye and barely managing to keep the other one halfway open, she had a question with no answer to it, or not one she could find anyway.
“Why?” she wondered silently.
Fera experienced many storms in her life, obviously, and even while in attendance at this very school, yet none of them, no matter how fierce, affected her like this. Why was this one so different? Why was she suddenly so weak to such a simple storm? More of Anita’s concerned cries and inquiries entered her ears, just as distorted and garbled as before, if not worse. As the world outside their window shifted into the spectrums of sapphires and violets once more, she gave a final strained gasp of air before falling into an endless void. Black surrounded her, became her, and drowned out her senses as she lost any sense of presence.
“Ferain, what are you doing there?” came a sweet voice. It was feminine, lighthearted, nurturing and unforgettable. “I told you to stay away from the windows when it’s lightning out.” the voice added.
“But, Mommy, I like watching the rain.” a five year old Ferain replied, looking over her tiny shoulder to see a taller version of herself standing by the kitchen counter.
It wasn’t an exact copy, actually, but her mother was definitely close enough. In any case, their relation to one another couldn’t be denied by any person in the world. She had the same messy brown hair that spilled over her shoulders, eyes that were like yellow topaz crystals, shining wonderfully whenever the faintest ray of light struck them, and while her face was older and a bit thinner, there was a lot that they had in common upon it. Her mother, Harriet, shook her head and smiled.
“You’re such a troublemaker, you know that?” she asked playfully. “The closer to the storm you are, the worse it is for you. Look at you, your eyes look like little candles right now.”
“Like the pupkins?”
“Pumpkins, dear, and yes, I suppose so.” her mom said, laughing quietly. “Come on, get away from the window and help me with dinner. I’m making your favorite tonight.”
“Really?” Ferain gasped, nearly falling out of her mahogany seat in an attempt to escape it as swiftly as possible.
“Careful, don’t hurt yourself.”
“I’m fine, Mommy.” Ferain assured her, rushing towards her mother with a beaming smile on her face, and small crackling currents running around her body.
“Calm down first, dear.” Harriet said, with a more hushed tone than usual, as her own golden eyes became brighter.
As hers gained in color, Fera’s dimmed slightly, and by the time she reached her mother, they had completely returned to normal. She felt the soft caress of her mother’s hand against her cheek, a loving, affectionate touch that always made Fera feel warm and calm.
“Good girl. You’re so clever. Give it time and you’ll have those gifts of yours mastered like a champ.”
“Just like you.” Ferain said happily, practically bouncing on her toes.
“Just like me,” said Harriet. “Here, now that you’re all calmed down, would you mind grabbing the strainer over there?”
“Yep yep.” Ferain sang, hurrying towards the lower cabinet beneath the sink, her arms held up at her sides as she ran, as if they were wings that carried her across the kitchen.
Ferain retrieved the metal strainer, turned around, and jumped as lightning struck the ground outside their house. The bowl fell and clattered against the tiled flooring while blue and white lines spidered around it, snapping and crackling loudly.
“S-sorry.” she muttered, bending over to pick it up. When she managed to retrieve it, she found her mother crouched down in front of her, grinning, and reaching out with her hand. Fera felt it gently touch the top of her head and ruffle her hair.
“Don’t worry about it, Fera. It’s no biggie. Here, I’ll rinse it off before we use it, yeah?”
“Uh-huh.” Fera nodded, relinquishing the colander.
“You really need to be more careful around her, Harriet.” said her father, which was a voice that caused Fera to flinch whenever it was present. He was a larger man, broad of chest and shoulder, and taller than her mother by almost a whole foot. He could be an imposing man to most, but she loved her dad. That was at least what she told herself now. This was because recently, he’d been scaring her a lot. She might’ve been young, but she knew that he scared her mother too sometimes.
“She’s perfectly safe, Tobi. How could you talk about your own daughter like that?”
“I’m just being honest.” Tobi stated coolly, looking down at a now quivering Ferain. “I’m sorry, sweetie, you just get a bit… wild… whenever it’s storming.”
“Don’t talk to her like it’s her fault.” Harriet snarled. After, she turned the water in the sink off and walked back towards the boiling pot on the stove.
“I know it’s not her… Look, we’re not having this argument again, okay? I’m just concerned about you, that’s all.”
“I’m fine, and so is she. And we wouldn’t need to keep having this argument if you would just try to–”
“Try to what, Harriet?” interrupted Tobi, sounding riled up, as he always was whenever the topic of conversation was Ferain.
Their small, very young daughter clasped her hands together over her chest nervously, and began walking slowly out of the kitchen. She found the seat by the window again, the one at their dining room table, and stared out at the dark night and pouring rain while the voices of her parents rose in volume. It was only when the present Ferain found herself sitting in the same chair did she finally ask what she’d wanted to ask that man for ten long years now. She sat where her younger self always found refuge, a place that she always thought to be full of wonderful, cherished memories, and had her chin resting in her palm. Her voice came out quiet and barely audible when she finally put words to her inquiry.
“Did you ever love me?” she pondered. “Or was it only ever Mom you cared about?” she added, watching the rain bead down the glass.
Another flash of light from the outside world temporarily blinded her, and afterwards, she was forced back into total darkness.
“How is she?” came a new voice, not one from a distant memory or a dream, but from Anita. If this surprised her, the next voice that arose left her dumbstruck.
“She’ll be fine, kid.” said Cross Key, with his usual gruff, foreign accent. This stunned her so much because the thought of that old man being in her apartment for any reason other than arresting her had never crossed her mind. Since that was the only thing she ever associated his presence with during unexpected visits, she started wishing to go back into her memories for a while longer.
“Are you sure? She’s burning up, and earlier, she just collapsed.” said Anita. “She’s barely breathing and she hasn’t responded at all since this morning and–”
“Kid.” Cross said, cutting her panicked rambling off before she had the chance to really get going. “It’s a combination of exhaustion and being put under too much strain. It’s hard for us to keep our powers reeled in during storms of any kind, and the more powerful the wielder, the more difficult containing them is. Your partner, as young and inexperienced as she is, is an incredibly powerful lightning-user. It’s been storming heavily for the last few days, and more is moving in. I imagine it hasn’t been easy on her.”
“She has been a little off.” Anita noted.
“Here, give her these and tell her to rest for a while after smoking one.”
“But, Mr. Key, she said–”
“It doesn’t matter what she said.” he interjected. “What matters is what she needs. Even I need these things during times like this. It’s part of the hand we’ve been dealt so tell her to get over it and smoke the damn things. They don’t have any negative effects, unless you consider a weakened power to be negative. I wouldn't give a kid something that’s bad for them, not in a lifetime.”
“O-okay.” Anita reluctantly said.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Fera tried to speak, tried to open her eyes, but her body wouldn't move, and instead of a voice, the only thing that came out was a groggy groan. Now that Anita mentioned it, she felt incredibly hot, as if she was laying on a bed of fire while her sheets and clothes were nothing more than a raging inferno. Sweat covered her body and even the breaths she struggled to suck in were shallow and barely able to be called breathing.
“Fera?” Anita gasped, and while she couldn't open her eyes, Ferain could picture her partner reaching down to touch her hand.
“Don’t.” Cross warned her. “Like this, she’s too unstable. Her body’s too weak to keep everything under control. All it takes is a bit of wrong timing and you’re fried. When she fully comes to, give her the cigarette and tell her that if she doesn’t smoke it, I’ll lock her in a cell until the storms pass.”
“I…” Fera managed to say. “Heard.” she hoarsely finished. One eye opened and to her surprise, the corner of her mouth twitched into what might’ve been considered a portion of a grin. Cross had on his typical leather jacket, aged and in much need of replacement. Underneath it was the tan, long-sleeved shirt he favored, plus the ragged pair of jeans that he never seemed to change out of. She thought this since first meeting him, but for a special agent from the Crown Nation, he dressed more like a drunk homeless man than what his title would lead one to expect.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll start working on something else for you but in the meantime, take the damn cigarettes. Normally one would last you five or so hours so use them wisely.” He started to leave the room when Fera quietly called out for him to stop. “Yeah, kid?”
“This happens to you too?” she questioned.
“Why do you think I smoke those things?” he asked in response. “Partly because it’s an old habit that’s hard to break, but primarily it’s for my powers. They always have a knack for getting out of hand, it’s something that I’ve always lived with. If you think that you’re the only one that’s hurt people you love accidentally, you’re wrong. I’ll tell you this now, kid, so remember it. Every lightning-user, I don’t care how strong they are or how much training they have, always struggles with what’s inside of them. We’re not like Ms. Breezy here, Hirigaya, we’re a whole different breed of monster.”
“Monster?” Fera choked.
“You heard me. We’re monsters, you and I. Those things, as much as you might hate them, make you a little less monstrous. Just keep that in mind when you’re arguing with yourself whether to smoke them or not, because I know your childish brain will do just that for hours on end. Children,” he scoffed, turning back towards the door. “Always think they know everything… always think they can shoulder everything too. Goodbye, Hirigaya, Caswell, have a good night.”
When the door to her room clicked shut, Anita helped Fera into a sitting position and eased her up against the headboard, so that her back was supported by it and her bundle of pillows. Anita pulled one of the black-wrapped sticks out of the small silver box Cross had left with them and handed it to Ferain. As she was setting the thin, rectangular container down, Fera noticed a wolf engraved on the front of it, one that was curled up on a cloud.
“Hmm, interesting.” Anita murmured, taking note of what caught Fera’s attention.
“It is.” Fera said. “He always had a black one, not a silver one.”
“Either way, you should probably… you know… smoke that one.” Anita said uneasily. Apparently, she didn’t like the idea either, but Ferain knew that Cross wasn't bluffing when he threatened to throw her in a cell.
Reluctantly, she stuck the stick in between her lips and mimicked what she saw him do the first time they met, and practically every time after that. She held her index finger and thumb over the end of the cigarette and let a blue and white spark arc between them, passing through the paper and bringing life to an insignificant flame. As he had done, she sucked in and the flame withered until it was just a red stub at the end of the black wrap. At once, her powers felt easier to manage. They weren't entirely gone, and they weren’t even as easy as they were on normal days, but it did help significantly in comparison to earlier that morning. A small stream of smoke left her nostrils as she exhaled through them, and to her surprise, it smelt different than the ones Cross smoked. Hers had a light, almost sweet scent to them. It also didn’t have all of the same effects that she felt when Cross let her try one before either.
His seemed to also help with anxiety and similar things, to make the smoker feel at complete ease, but hers only helped with her powers, and nothing else it seemed. When she pointed this out to Anita, her partner seemed to think momentarily before coming to the same conclusion Ferain herself was conjuring up.
“Maybe he used less ingredients.” she suggested, which Ferain agreed with wholeheartedly.
“He knew that I didn’t like the idea of it.” Fera murmured, staring at the burning stick between her fingers.
“So he made you even less effective ones?” asked Anita.
“No, he made me some that were more suited to me.”
“How nice of him.” Anita said genuinely. “We’ll have to thank him next time we cross paths. Get it?” Anita then asked, to which Fera looked at her stupidly. “Cross paths. Cross. That’s his name.”
Fera giggled and shook her head. “You’re so dumb sometimes.”
“But it makes you smile, so it’s all worth it to be a bit stupid.” Anita said before taking to her feet. “Alright, Fera, once you’re done with that thing, lay down some more and try to get some sleep. It looks like you haven’t slept in months.”
“Will do, sir.” she said. “But I don’t know how much sleep I’m going to be getting. He said a few hours with each cigarette. I might be up before you know it, smoking another one.” she said grimly.
“It’s not that bad.” Anita said. “Could be worse, after all.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“Well… You could have nothing.”
“Fair enough.” Fera said, nodding in agreement. “I could have nothing.” she repeated, before yawning quietly.
Anita left, turning the light off on her way out, leaving Ferain alone in the dark of her mostly silent bedroom. The sound of her fan humming filled the space, and the small amount of blue light from a plug-in she had by her bedroom door spilled onto the floor. Besides this, the only other source of illumination came from the end of her rolled up paper. Once that was finished, she threw it away in a bin she had by her bed, laid down, and pulled the sheets over her head. Ferain was fast asleep in no time at all. Between the strain of the week before, and this day in particular, she found it rather easy to fall into slumber. This was definitely only possible because of Cross’s gift, and now she was genuinely on Anita’s side with this one. She would thank him the next time they met.
However, while sleep did find her easily, she didn’t even have the chance to memorize her dreams before realizing the truth in Anita’s words. It could indeed always be worse. An incredible surge of energy shot through her, causing her eyes to open abruptly. In her groggy, still feverish state, the dark bedroom seemed to spin in all directions, bringing about a nauseating spell of dizziness that nearly threw her from her bed when she tried to move. Fera stumbled after finding her feet, and with one hand pressed to her forehead while the other was outstretched in an attempt to keep her balance or to find support, she somehow made it to her bedroom door.
All was quiet in the apartment, not even Anita’s playing could be heard. She ignored her band and jacket as she walked towards the entryway, and in her sorry, pitiful state of health, she couldn't even be bothered with shoes. This surge of power was not the same as the storm’s, or if it was, she felt it so much more clearly than before. This one was like… well, it was hard to put it into words. To some extent, it was like the usual riling up of her powers that came with any old lightning strike or crack of thunder, but it also carried with it an invasive, terrifying sensation, like something was coiling around her lightning and trying to pull it out. Essentially, the pull on her attention made her think it was guiding her somewhere. Since her head was foggy from her exhaustion and illness, the wonderful idea that alerting Anita most certainly was, never crossed her mind. In her baggy jeans and long-sleeved shirt, she stumbled around the hallway until the elevator was eventually reached.
The lights flickered all the while as every pulse of power in the air radiated around her, pulsed within her, bringing her gift to life in the process, but thankfully the lift did not short out while she was riding it. Finding the exit was somewhat easy, despite her vision blurring and her fever seemingly getting worse with each unsteady step, and she soon found herself outside in the rain and darkness. The odd, invasive pull still bit into her memory, somehow becoming the only clear thing that existed within it at the present, so she continued following the path. Why she was doing it was something she did not know. What awaited her was also a mystery, though admittedly, she wasn’t really thinking about either question. One foot after the other, that was all that she retained after her terrible awakening.
While nearing a corner close to the dorm, she felt the intruding presence all the more clearly, revealing to her that whatever guided her here was just around the corner. Now, as she got closer, there was something familiar about it, like she’d felt it before at some point. In fact, she experienced it many times this year, not just once or twice. With each step, her realization of what was waiting for her sank further in, and her stomach grew more queasy as the picture was starting to reveal itself. Finally, she was one corner away from meeting this familiar feeling, and what she walked in on was a nightmare worse than any other. She sobered up at once, and her eyes began to actually spark somewhere behind the brightened irises.
“No.” she murmured, shaking her head. “No. This… It…” she stammered, stumbling into a nearby wall and covering her mouth with one hand while using the remaining hand to clutch her stomach.
The smell of burning flesh was in the air, and this time, it was not from a memory. Black and red lightning could be physically witnessed crackling in the highly energized space that surrounded the scene. Lying on the ground was a young girl, a first-year student if Ferain had to guess. She was wearing a pair of blue cotton pajamas and an overly large button-up shirt. Her light green hair was disheveled as it sprawled out around her head, which was face-down in a puddle.
“No.” Fera hissed, not wanting to believe what she was witnessing.
“Ferain.” said an all too familiar voice. It sounded pleased and wicked beyond comparison. It sounded unrecognizable, despite her having heard it almost every day for months now. “Look what you found. Why did you have to come here, Ferain?”
“But you said…” Fera murmured, sliding down the wall until she was in a curled up position. “You…”
“I lied.” Yarin said, with a smirk. “Did you honestly believe me? Who else could do it but me, Ferain?”
Ferain looked up at the imposing figure of her friend, her mentor, and saw a look she had never seen on his face before. It was corrupted by a twisted sort of pleasure and excitement. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and began walking towards Ferain, tilting his head slightly to the left as he neared.
“Why?” Ferain gasped, choking on her own breath in the process.
“Because it’s fun, obviously. I don’t expect you to understand, girl, but I on the other hand, enjoy being able to let loose from time to time. It’s no fun being so… so… controlled. Or… perhaps you do understand. Tell me, Ferain, I never actually asked you before. How did killing your mother feel?” Yarin crouched down in front of her and smiled. “How hungry did smelling her charred flesh make you? What about the sight of the body, hmm? Did that excite you? Did you take pleasure in your handy work? I mean, at such a young age and you had that much explosive power, all cooped up inside of your tiny body. Did it not feel enlightening?” he hissed, grabbing her cheeks forcefully with one hand and speckling her face with small amounts of spit.
He tilted his head the other way and let out a bone-chilling chuckle.
“So innocent. So lovely. So… alone.” He moved in so that their faces were almost touching, and she couldn’t bring herself to break free of his grip. Both of them were coursing with electricity at this point, her blue and white to his black and red, and their illuminated eyes as well seemed locked together in a neverending stare. “So stupid. And oh so incredibly weak. You have all of that potential, all of that freedom to do whatever you want, and you squander it."
Ferain’s breaths were caught in her throat and it sounded like she was choking as she struggled to keep back her sobs. All of her training went away, vanished as if she’d never even come to the school in the first place. At this sight, at the knowledge that it was this person who had been doing such a thing this entire time, she was the little five year old girl from all those years ago again. She had no strength, no wisdom, no ability to do anything whatsoever. Even the powers that made her this way did not help with this man. She was a scared, helpless, forgotten little girl, and she knew death would be coming soon for her. She knew who it was now, she’d seen his face, caught him in the act. He would not let her go this time. The game was over, the ruse was up, and she was caught so off guard, she couldn’t even muster up any fight to counter it.
“Are you scared of me?” he asked with a smile and a quiet laugh. “You are. Good, that’s very good.” He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, and in the process, his power ran into her body and caused her to briefly quiver and convulse.
“Ahhhh!” she screeched, kicking her legs and trying to fight away from his grip, but he only held on tighter. The hand that was holding her cheeks previously now covered her mouth and the other found her throat. She was panicking now, her mind completely giving way to fear and tears began streaming down her face. “Mmmmm!” she screamed, though her cries were currently muffled.
After the failed attempt, she sucked in two quivering breaths and tried to kick her way free again. Yarin forced her head against the wall and straddled her legs to keep them pressed against the soaked concrete beneath them.
“I could do so much to you now… if I wanted, of course.” he said, staring into her eyes hungrily. She tried to let out all of her power but it only seemed to be a tickle to him, seeing as he found it amusing. “All out of juice, Ferain? With the storm going on, I was worried you might actually overpower me. You are stronger, after all.” He leaned in close and gave a strong sniff by her covered mouth. “Something sweet. It’s on your skin, on your clothes. A suppressor, I think. What luck.” He then spit on her face. “Pathetic. What was all of that time even for, hmm?” he said, squeezing harder on her throat and face. “I gave you so much of my time and look at you. You’re nothing!”
Ferain shook her head, her tears soaking his hand while her remaining bit of fight fled from her body.
He then laughed again. “It’s okay though. I forgive you. If only Lilipa could see you now. Her forgiveness, well, I don’t think it would come so easily. She loves me, did you know that? My time is very precious to her. All of that time I spent with you over these last several months, how do you think she felt about it? That was all time I could have given her instead. Who knows, maybe I’ll pay her a visit after I’m done with you. Maybe it’s about time to give her what she wants.” At Fera’s frightened expression, he smiled wider. “I’ll give her a kiss or two before touching her cheek, just like this.” he said, removing the hand from her throat and pressing it against her cheek. “Then, I’ll hold the other one there.” he said, doing the same with the hand that was over her mouth.
Ferain’s breathing was coming so fast now, she thought any more of this would cause her lungs to explode, like a balloon with too much air being pushed inside. The fever she had earlier seemed to have spread through her whole body and even this event here almost felt like a terrible nightmare. If not for the vivid realness of the touch against her face, she might actually believe none of this was truly happening. To fully cement how real this all was, she felt a tingling in the palms of his calloused hands. Her own powers were active but they were too weakened to stand up to Yarin’s abilities, at least while they were also enhanced by the storm and she was still weakened from the suppressor Cross had given her. What started out as a light, stinging sensation, quickly became a gut-wrenching pain that violently arose within her body.
“Gaaaaahh!” she cried out in agony, as black and red lightning began flooding into her body as well as around it. Even her own blue powers were starting to grow darker, as if her currents were becoming stained or tainted by this invading force. “Please.” she begged. “Pl– Ahhhhh!” she howled.
Finally, he let up from her and she was left, shaking and breathing out traces of smoke. Her eyes partially closed and dimmed, her powers died out completely, and every now and then, her body quivered from a left-behind pulse of Yarin’s power.
“Your powers are really handy, aren't they? You’re already starting to heal, and I am amazed that attack didn’t kill you right away. That much power would probably kill any other person. I know, maybe I’ll see how long poor Anny can last.”
Ferain turned her head just enough to glare into Yarin’s crimson eyes. “Don’t…” she started, her words coming out like her panting breaths. “Touch… Her…”
“Or what?” Yarin snarled, leaning in closer again.
Suddenly, his weight was gone. There was a flash of light and his body had been knocked aside, and sent sliding several feet away. Fera caught a glimpse of a bright light to her right, and a silhouette standing behind it. The light in the figure’s palm began to brighten again, as if they were going to fire another shot, but as they did, the entire area was filled with a thick, heavy fog from the left, where Yarin had been thrown. She heard splashing steps coming towards her now, but her body was too weak and her mind too muddied. She could not move, react, even see who it was that had saved her. The world shifted sideways in her vision and there was a hard thud on the side of her head just before her vision blinked away into complete darkness.