Locked doors are nothing more than a petty form of passive-aggression. As Ariel stared at the doorknob in front on her, both arms burning from the inside, she knew this to be true. If you really wanted to keep someone in, or out, you would use a deadbolt. Now that might work, if everyone in town was a weak loser. To be sure, you’d want the door, the hinges, and locks runically enhanced, like Dad’s friend Trey did for folks. A locked door just said “you can get to me if you want! You just have to break a door.” Now, Ariel was on the verge of doing just that out of sheer frustration. But no; she had been given the ridiculous job of melting a doorknob with no explanation.
An hour earlier, for the first time in her life, Ariel had walked up a staircase in slippers. The plush warmth of howler fur embraced her toes, and she found she couldn’t exactly hate it.
Sun streamed into the high windows of Darius’ house - pretty, but way too large. A well-placed rock would bring down a shower of glass. Though, she guessed someone like Darius wouldn’t run into that problem with his hidden defense system. Damn city tech.
Ariel strode into the second story hall, passing the recluse daughter’s room and pounding on the second door on the right, opening the door eagerly at the old man’s reply. He was standing on the far wall of his bedroom in his black and white butler’s uniform, facing a mirror and fussing over a forest green tie.
“It’s going to be too high,” Ariel said, striding over to his side, handing him a golden gourd the governor’s wife had given her. “Serina said you like these thingies.”
“Sannhets,” the butler said, accepting it with a broad grin. It jiggled when you took a bite, like gelatin. “Thank you. The lady was quite clear that you should make yourself at home, so feel free to try one - they’re incredible for restoring your mana levels. How are you settling in?”
Ariel’s eyes narrowed and she shifted. “I’m… fine,” Ariel said. “Everyone’s nice and whatever. I’d be better off on the road.”
“You know we can’t let you run off. You’ve still got burns and bruises from the fight, and I’m in no shape to protect you. It’s a miracle we made it back. Besides, Mr. Stalwart promised your parents he’d get you back safe. There is a skilled teleporter visiting town shortly - he will be able to bring you back without any further incidents.”
Ariel wanted to argue, but she still had a goal here. Better to bite her tongue and get something - so she pretended not to be bothered with a shrug.
“So then, what’s with the daughter? Serina says they have a kid, but I haven’t seen her yet.”
“She rarely leaves her room,” Dave said with the frown. “She’s a fine young lady, just one that most people don’t understand.”
Ariel also let this drop - that wasn’t hard, because it seemed like a touchy subject.
“So… sannhets. Are they really that big a deal?”
“They’re quite lovely. Ever since King Xexherre found them growing in the wild, they’ve been a staple for good reason. It’s a shame, what’s happened to prices on them.”
“Another reason to make some money... Now, Xexherre, that’s another thing they won’t shut up about at school. Everyone talks like they knew him personally. I get respect, but the whole religion over one guy seems weird to me. Am I missing something?”
Ariel thought she might have offended him, but before she could get too nervous the older man just smiled fondly, fixing his tie.
“Whether he’s as wonderful as some think is subjective. For me… I thought it was strange to find a place for green in every outfit as a child.” Dave pulled on his forest green tie, clearly a vague tribute to the man’s trademark hair. “The practice is even more uncommon now than when my parents pushed it on me. But at some point, Xexherre’s story stopped being a legend to me. Maybe it’s when I saw that we face the same fears he did. What he accomplished in the face of annihilation is staggering to me. My distant grandfather would agree with you that worshiping him is foolish. For me… I can’t say for sure.”
Ariel squirmed. This was the part where she was supposed to say something fancy, and he’d nod sagely, looking at the sunset. But the sun wasn’t setting, and she had her own business. Still, she could use this. As the man took another bite, twinkling golden juice rising from the fruit, she struck.
“They say at school that Xexherre was an incredible mage. That he could fight a hundred men and win. That he was all the courage of his armies, in one body.”
“He was the first of us, and the greatest. Forced into leadership by the death of everyone he ever looked up to. His people’s only bastion against terrorists, monsters, and conquerors.”
“I thought of those stories when I saw you fighting.”
Ariel felt childish saying it out loud. While she had her motives in saying them, those words were true.
“You give me far too much credit. It’s all repetition. Practice something long enough, and you gain skill. The power is already inside us. You’ve already realized that much, I see.
Ariel put on her shy face, looking aside as she sat back against at the foot of the man’s bed, are around her knees. “I’m okay, but I don’t really get the specifics. Formulas and whatnot. My parents have come around in a big way, but I know they’re afraid of my power.”
“The whole world fears those who cast intuitively, so they’re forced to be cautious, for your sake.”
Ariel nodded. She didn’t like it, but she understood her parents’ uncomfortable position. “Fighting’s tough too. Can’t shoot a boar if you don’t know how it’ll move.” She left a little silence, but the coot chose not to fill it, making her nervous. “I’ll be a lot more help to you next time some goons attack if I know how to fight, you know.”
“And how could such a thing be accomplished?”
“Void take you, Dave! Isn’t it obvious? Train me! I’m good, you’re great, you’ll make me great, then I can keep myself safe. Everyone wins.”
“Can a man tame a river?”
“Can a… what?”
“Can a man tame a river.”
Ariel scowled, then adjusted, putting on her school face. This was a damn rhetorical question. Isaac liked them. She did not.
“Perhaps a woman can.”
“And if she is the river?”
Damn. She’d mixed up the stupid analogy.
“A river can be turned by a stone, if it is stubborn enough.”
He grinned. “Did you get that from a proverb?”
“Back of a cereal box. Point is, you know what I need to.”
The grin disappeared. “What are you going to use that skill for? Get killed, like we almost did?”
“What if I promised I wouldn’t? That I won’t go chasing the Black Hand on my own?”
“Can you really promise that much, after sneaking away from your parents all the way here?”
“I do. I solemnly swear, or whatever.” His eyes narrowed at her. “Really, I mean it. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, but I need this. Please, give me a chance.” It was a shame, but the other night had taught her something. She couldn’t do this on her own. Not like she was. The wounds from her fight still stung, and she hadn’t even handled the worst of it. And the enemy in front of her - what had taken Isaac - would be a lot more than a couple of grunts. She sent up a silent prayer, tense with restrained anger, that Issac could hold out a little while. They hadn’t killed him on the spot. That would have to be enough.
Dave seemed to consider the request, then ushered her out of the room, leading her back to her own. Curious, she followed, and moved at his gesture inside. The door slammed behind her, and metal plates slammed into place around its wooden frame, the security system fully active.
“Use your magic to get past the door. Do not damage anything but the metal. If you manage that, I will teach you.”
And so Ariel had ended up in her frustrating predicament. She’d tried all the magic she had in her arsenal, plus praying, movie lines, and reciting her mother’s dumpling recipe. The last one was mostly to make sure she remembered.
You couldn’t blow out a doorknob just by shocking it. Ariel knew that, though that didn’t stop her from trying. The electricity just kind of rattled around in there, dispersing through the door and ground, and through Ariel herself if she wasn’t careful to control it. She wasn’t sure what she expected. A childish part of her hoped that it was just a test to make sure she could do that much - that maybe the doorknob would fall out when she zapped it and Dave would be on the other side of the door, firing a confetti cannon. That would be a sight.
As she considered, a glimmer in the air crystallized into a panel of solid light, hovering in front of the door. Ariel stumbled back, initially startled, but even with her school’s piss-poor budget, she’d seen hardlight projection on occasion. Ariel held back a groan. It was homework from Dave, she could tell at a glance. Still, this was what she’d asked for. The passage started with a title - “Magnetic Resonance” - and an explanation of it as a Tier I lightning spell. Then there was a bunch of nonsense - something about pouring mana into “intramolecular spaces” and “disrupting electron clouds”. The why came afterwards - using magnetism to change the shape of metal. That order just seemed backwards to Ariel. The reason made sense, almost making the science acceptable. That said, the part more important still seemed to be missing - how.
Ariel groaned again, turning back to the knob and focused her mana more fiercely this time, shocking it. She did a better job of shocking herself, feeling her hair frizz up. She wanted to kick the stupid door - but that was childish. Dave would let her out if she asked him to - and then she’d have proven his point. That she wasn’t ready. Frustrated, Ariel went over the passage more intently, hanging on every word, even those she didn’t understand. After the reread, she felt confident she had the idea of it - and shocked herself again. This cycle continued with increasing frustration until Ariel was nearly out of mana - at the point that pushing on would be dangerous. She fell on the bed face down, arms out to her sides, still tingling from the expenditure, legs dangling uncaring over the edge.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Face in the plush cushions, emptied of strength, Ariel was reminded of how she felt before she could control her own mana. Everyone had it, but only a fraction of kids her age could do anything cool with it, and a smaller fraction of those were actually good at it - at least, in her area. Uncontrolled magic was dangerous. Some of the best could cast proper Tier 1 spells, and then people accepted them. These were based on formulas that, despite their relatively low barrier to entry, were considered useful enough to be taught to thousands. She wasn’t amongst those - neither of her parents made a lot of money, and their charity didn’t allow for a lot of fluff in the budget. But still, she had beaten those “real casters”. Cocky rich kids on holiday. Bullies who had picked on Isaac and tossed her aside before her awakening. Even delusional parents now and then. She had beaten them all. She’d probably have problems against the monsters her age that ended up training in the castle, if the rumors were true - and she hated to admit it. Still, even without any stuffy textbooks, magic had made Ariel strong - and she’d loved it, no matter the risks. Before that, without a knack for school, or music, or much else, she’d just kind of floated through life. Of course, it hadn’t been a problem then, when life was simple. Ariel’s thoughts turned to the Black Hand members - especially the one that fought with Dave. They were strong - too strong. She couldn’t afford to be powerless again. She shuddered at the very thought, and put it from her mind.
Frustrated with her failure, Ariel focused on that feeling. She wasn’t sure why, but focusing on emotions seemed to help her mana come back sooner. After many long minutes, she rose to face the knob again - and exhausted the partially restored mana just as quickly.
***
Hours into Ariels’ struggle with the doorknob, while she was resting, Dave pushed into the room, much to her chagrin.
"Lunchtime, my lady," he said simply, a smug expression in his face. Ariel sighed, but followed. She was exhausted, and probably wouldn't get much done like this. However, she did first force the old man to promise he'd lock her in again.
She stumbled down to the table in a haze, forcing a smile at Serina.
"Arielle-"
"Ariel, actually."
"Oh, my mistake," the woman said sheepishly. Ariel sighed.
"It doesn't matter. You had something to tell me?"
"Your father called earlier, through a friend. He was hoping to hear from you."
Ariel sank down in her seat, trying to disappear. She looked at the plate in front of her - a restaurant-style meat salad, likely some local game. She took a cautious bite, then nodded gratefully. It was lean - good fuel for an athlete- and she realized she owed herself a good run. If they’ll let me out of the damn house.
“Don’t you have something to say about that?” Serina prodded. “You worried your parents something fierce with your immature antics.”
Antics? Ariel thought, gripping her fork hard.
"Don’t I have something to say?” Ariel said slowly, deliberately. “What about you? Are you happy like this?" Ariel countered. The woman looked up from her own salad, surprised. "Sitting around here, I mean. Waiting for the governor."
Serina crossed her arms. "You're awfully forward for an uninvited guest."
Ariel pushed harder.
"No offense," Ariel said, waving a hand. "I'm just wondering how long you plan to keep watching and making salads. This shitshow’s like a fire, lady. I’m sure it looks pretty from over there. But it won’t feel so nice when it catches your house.”
Ariel didn’t realize how much acid was in her voice until she finished, and Serina looked back at her, bewildered. Her face twisted in anger, and Ariel thought the table was going to flip. Instead, the lady’s expression went neutral, tensed muscles relaxing. She rose from the table in one motion, taking her food with her, and striding for the door to another room. Ariel almost called after her, but the short blonde spoke first.
“Let me know if you need anything,” the woman said, tone flat. And she was gone.
Ariel had never been good at holding back anger. She’d raised hell for anyone who’d caused her family trouble, sometimes getting beaten to a pulp herself in the process. But this was different. The moment her anger had nowhere to go, she realized what a fool she’d made of herself. Once the old man heard this, it’d be a wonder if he still trained her. Already, she was ruining everything. Most frustrating was that, even with the knowledge of how much she’d messed up, she couldn’t let go of the anger. Antics, the word repeated in her mind. Was this just some game to her? To everyone else? Ariel wasn’t hungry anymore, but nauseous. Still, she shoveled the salad down in spite of her knotted stomach. She was at least raised better than to let food go to waste.
Downing a glass of water too fast, Ariel stomped up the stairs - a few steps up, before she realized she was doing it and quieted down. She was halfway back to her room when a quiet voice called to her.
“She’s not going to tell him.”
The quiet voice came softly out of the first room on the right - the recluse daughter’s room.
“It’s Lailah, actually. Not that I care. You can come in if you want.”
The voice came through the door again. It was barely a whisper to Ariel’s ears. The experience was so unusual that Ariel found herself complying - it would feel awkward to walk away after being called out.
The first thing she noticed was the smell. Stereotypically, she’d think the room would be a mess, starting with the smell of unwashed clothes. Instead, the entire space smelled faintly of peppermint, and she locked onto the candles probably putting out the scent. The room was neat, with a made bed and dresser behind Ariel and a physical bookshelf next to a modern double monitor desk on the opposite wall. On the far wall were some movie posters for what she thought were obscure films, a table, and a small refrigerator. The desk was the messiest area, with books folded onto themselves or wide open surrounded by writing implements and sticky notes, but even that seemed more a way to use every inch of desk space than laziness.
“Thank you - I try to make use of my space,” the young woman said. Ariel was almost too preoccupied with the sight of the room to notice her. Lailah, Ariel remembered, turned her chair to face Ariel. She was a petite and curvy blond with tan skin despite her lack of sun exposure, no doubt from her mother, but the skin was much darker and bunched up beneath her eyes. The sweater and skirt she wore suited her and gave her a look of laid-back beauty. Lucky, Ariel thought absently. She’d gone through a chubby patch before getting her magic, and she thought the extra weight didn’t suit her nearly so well. Or maybe it was that her senior, with the maturity of adulthood, had gotten the confidence and grace to carry herself better than Ariel had. Ariel put the thought aside - that was her mom getting to her.
“How’d you know what I was thinking?” Ariel asked. “I try not to be an open book.”
“Maybe not to most, but I’m a telepath. Brain hacker, if you like the lingo. I won’t turn your mind to goo, though.”
“No shit? What am I thinking about right now?”
“How far a Promethean hornbeast could jump horizontally from the top of a skyscraper. I believe it would depend on whether it had a symbiotic howler casting haste. Otherwise? Probably only several meters at best. They’re not very agile as lizards go.”
“Holy crap! That’s awesome. Can you teach me how to do that?”
The woman shrugged, but Ariel could see a smile tugging at her lips. “Usually,” Lailah continued, “you’re either a psychic or your aren’t. But if you ever show the basic talent, I can teach you a few things.”
Casually, Lailah gestured to her bed, and Ariel took a seat wordlessly. “So… does that mean you’ve been listening to all the nonsense in my head?” Ariel fidgeted with the fur on her slippers.
“That’s why I called you. You don’t have to worry about my mom making a fuss. She’s pretty stubborn, and likes to deal with things on her own.”
“That’s good, I guess,” Ariel said, then raised her eyebrows and flared her aura. Even she remembered the telepath lesson from school. The only sure way to block one out was to shroud yourself in dense mana so that the telepath couldn’t get through.
Lailah sighed, but did little to mask her hurt expression. “You could just ask me to stop listening. I try to tune out people I haven’t spoken with to be polite, but your emotions were pretty loud as you came up the stairs, and it’s exhausting to suppress my telepathy. I can’t do it all day.”
“Oh,” Ariel said, looking sheepish. “Sorry.” She let down the flow of ethereal blue mana and sighed, before pulling her arms around her knees. “You know what? Fuck it. Look all you want. I’m probably not fooling anyone. I’m a mess. I can’t do anything for my little brother, and now I’m taking it out on everyone else.”
Lailah turned back to her computer, typing rhythmically, before shooting back a reply.
“At least you have the guts to try. For what it’s worth, Dave thinks the world of you. He probably didn’t say anything about it, but he’s sure he’d be dead if not for you. That’s crazy. Jumping on a guy who would blow you to pieces given the chance - I could never. He gave you an impossible challenge because he thinks you can do it.”
Ariel’s mind was mired with doubt. Ever since the last fight - and seeing how far she had to go - she felt weak, and afraid. Afraid that Darius was right. That she couldn’t do anything in all of this.
“He… thinks I can do it?”
“Hardly anyone casts without spell formulas these days, except strong psychics. It’s risky, so people get squeamish - but he made you keep going that way because it’s hella flexible. He thinks you have good potential and might be stubborn enough to make it work - and if you are, it opens a lot of options.”
“Wait, why didn’t he tell me that?” Ariel said, getting annoyed.
“Would you believe him if he did? How would you take someone you hardly know talking you up out of nowhere?”
“And what about you?”Ariel asked.
“I’m a crazy psychic,” Lailah deadpanned. “What kind of ulterior motive could I have? If I wanted to mess with you, I’d just mind control you or something.”
“Come on, even I can tell you’re not that strong… probably. But you shouldn’t joke like that. You’re making me nervous.”
“Aren’t you already? I said what I had to. You’re good.” Lailah made a shooing motion without looking, facing her monitors. Ariel chose to ignore it.
“I wasn’t. Actually, you make me more comfortable than anyone else in your family.”
Lailah stopped typing for a moment, before continuing. “Don’t write off my parents too quickly. My dad might be a stick in the mud, but I’ve seen inside the heads of his competition. Lets just say… if you wanted to try politics to save your brother, look for an outsider. The ‘in’ crowd? They’re all steaming sacks of shit. As for my mom… she never wanted this. She’s just a simple woman that fell in love and wanted to be a housewife.”
Ariel looked up sadly. “Did politics stress them out?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Lailah replied. “They were going to have more kids after me, but got spooked off it after some psycho tried to kill dad and I - and got close.”
“I’ll… keep that in mind.” Ariel said, before her eyes focused on one of the tabs on Lailah’s screen. “Wait… the Black Hand has social media accounts?!”
Lailah sighed. “You can see that from there? Never mind. Yes, but not for long. I mostly just manage websites for rent and food. I kinda suck at hacking. But, I’ve at least been able to troll the hell out of them if not get them banned. One time, I actually got a hold of one of their accounts and made them look really stupid. It’s an insult compared to what you’re trying to do, so I didn’t really want to mention it, but…”
Lailah cut off, probably reading what Ariel was thinking. She didn’t really mind at the moment, didn’t care to hold anything in. The whole time she was in Jarion, Ariel had the impression no one else cared about her family and the danger they faced… even supposed friends. But she saw the way Lailah’s fist balled up even as she spoke dismissively of herself. She was fighting, in her own way. Ariel hurried forward, hugging the older girl around her chair.
“Thank you,” Ariel said thickly. “For caring.”
Lailah sucked in the breath, probably not sure how to respond. She settled for patting Ariel on the head awkwardly.
“Sure.”
After saying goodbye, Ariel went back to her room to think. There was too much to get her arms around. For the first time, she thought - really thought - about what Darius had said about the Black Hand situation. With Lailah vouching for him, it was impossible to ignore it - he was doing what he thought was best. And Lailah herself was already dedicating herself to potentially risky hacking to mess with the Black Hand. She wasn’t alone, but if everyone was doing their best already, then the problem was bigger than she thought - unbelievably so. It was both reassuring and infinitely depressing - and she wasn’t sure yet what she was supposed to do about it.