Aside from the clinking of cutlery, dinner remained an unusually quiet affair. Dad avoided his regular banter, the tension in the room palpable, while mum was preoccupied thinking about me. I could tell by the subtle glances she cast in my direction while she picked at her food. I didn’t pay any of it much attention, my own mind busy grappling with what I had seen in the car — the man in the mirror.
I could still feel his lifeless eyes bore into me as though he'd seen me too, and for whatever sadistic reason, he wanted me to know. The scene replayed in my mind, the corners of his mouth slowly curling upwards, his lips parting and skin stretching taut, then pulled even further as if to tear his own face apart. They reached for his earlobes, distorting his face. His exhale grew heavy, his inhale a sharp hiss, louder and louder — his breath ragged and foul. Lingering. Reaching.
“Hello, Kalak.”
I felt my hair bristle to the sound of my name, and I clutched the utensils in my hand tighter, fear constricting around my chest in return.
"Kalak? Hello?" Dad probed, waving his hand in front of my face and snapping me out of the nightmare. "’You alright champ? You're looking a little pale."
"Huh?" I quickly scanned my left, finding mum's seat vacant and her plate gone. She was in the kitchen, and an odd sense of relief washed over me, thankful she didn’t witness the episode. I turned back to address dad, my mind drawing a blank in its search for a response. "I'm… I was just thinking."
He nodded. "’Want to tell me what of?"
"’M-my gift. I was just wondering what my gift is."
"I'm sure you'll figure it out." He gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze, then stood up and started stacking the empty plates. "Don't think too hard about it. Gifts are intuitive things. You'll get a gut feeling about what it is, and when you're ready, we can have a race." Then, with a mischievous wink, he blurred away.
"Oh…" I felt my face flush with the realisation of the mistake I'd made — I had told dad I already knew what my gift was.
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In the oddly serene confines of a sterile white room, I nestled into a sofa and began soothing the hesitation and anticipation swirling in my stomach. I didn't know what Dr. Okapi had planned for me, but I imagined it would provide insights, or better yet, outright reveal the nature of my gift. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if I was ready to know. Gifts were supposed to feel like second nature, and the fact that my body hadn’t told me what power I had manifested suggested I wasn't ready.
"Sit properly, Kal," mum chastised.
I half-heartedly adjusted my slouch. It wasn't like anyone would care, and given how little there was to do, being bored to sleep felt like an excusable offence.
Perhaps the lack of everything was intentional, to allow the mind to wander and relax. Or maybe not. The owners likely didn't want to spend any money on a place no one attended, not even the doctor herself. We waited a quarter of an hour before she decided to show up, strolling into the room like she owned the place; I mean, she probably did, but the fact that she was arriving at eleven in the morning made me question if she actually did any work.
"Elara, thank you for stopping by."
"Chesil," Mum greeted, standing to shake hands and thank the doctor for her time. It all felt so formal and made me wonder whether they were even really friends. Surprisingly, it was mum who transitioned to business talk. "You were right about his gift," she said, her voice heavy with worry.
"Oh? Has he stabilised then?"
"No, he seems to be on the mend. But the journey here yesterday... Well, you guessed… you know. And then yesterday at dinner, Kalak inadvertently revealed where."
I listened attentively to mum's riddles, trying to glean whatever information I could, but the fragmented nature of them left me confused. The doctor on the other hand, nodded along, though she had the key to the enigma — knowledge about my gift.
"Thank you Elara, that was quite insightful," Dr. Okapi said. "Powers have limits and side effects, as you’re well aware. They are, in a sense, a safety mechanism. In your case, if you didn’t have your time limit, the world would freeze forever."
"Yeah… that wouldn't be fun," mum admitted with a grimace.
"Exactly. So as concerning as Kalak's powers are, I wouldn't worry too much. He'll have safety mechanisms of his own.”
"Thank you, Chesil." Mum gave the doctor a grateful smile before turning to embrace me. "I'll see you in a few hours. Behave, okay?" Then she left me alone with the doctor along with an uncomfortable silence.
"So… what are we going to do today?"
"We'll begin with taking a few measurements: temperature, heart rate, blood pressure..." She started listing off the tests and jotting them on her clipboard, but my attention slowly waned as the tide of disappointment grew. "—And once we do that, Kalak," the doctor said, regaining my attention, "we might have you playing around with your gift."
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
"Oh… awesome!"
Okapi responded to my excitement with her signature cold smile. "Ah, I'm being a bad host! Would you like a drink?"
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I opened my eyes to the harsh assault of blinding fluorescent lights flaring around me, reflecting off the white-tiled floor, walls, and ceiling. It made it difficult to focus, and my vision feel blurry, as if looking through a foggy window. I numbly felt teardrops cascade down my cheeks while I blinked away my daze, and I willed my hands to rub away the gathering of tears in my eyes, but they didn't readily respond.
"Whaas goin…on?" My words came out slurred, and a pang of panic coursed through me. I raised my palm with renewed urgency, focusing all my mental and physical strength into the action until they finally found my face. Not paralysed then.
"Hello, Kalak," a mechanical voice echoed, making me wince. "How are you feeling?"
"Doc…tor Okapi?" My words stumbled again, the syllables shuffling in a clumsy dance.
"I'm sure you're a little confused, Kalak. Don't worry, you'll feel better in no time. Just focus on my voice, okay?"
I nodded the best that I could.
"Good. Now, let’s start chapter 2. The council of elders are regarded as the custodians of living history, with their knowledge spanning time before the unification. The precise count of members remains undisclosed, but…"
She droned on, losing me in the process. Why was she telling me all this? I didn't care. And why did my limbs feel like they were tied down? Each movement, aside from the well-practised art of rolling my eyes, demanded deliberate and conscious exertion. Even keeping my head upright made me feel lightheaded.
"You're doing great, Kalak. Close your eyes for me."
I did as instructed, and my eyelids gratefully complied.
"Good. Now, I want you to focus on your breathing. Take a deep breath in. Now exhale. Deep breath in…. Exhale…."
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"I want you to slowly open your eyes, Kalak." The doctor's voice gently penetrated the haze that enveloped my consciousness, and I sluggishly obeyed her instruction, opening my heavy eyelids to reveal the same white room from before, though the lights were dimmer and more sympathetic.
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm feeling… okay," I managed.
"Good. I want you to focus on the glass in front of you, okay?"
My eyes drifted across the empty floor before scanning the walls in search of what she was referring to. There was nothing there. Just when I was about to ask, a pinprick on my arm overwhelmed me for a fleeting moment before the entire world transformed.
Colours burst to life, their hues intensified, sharpened. The glass pane, invisible moments ago, seemed to materialise before my eyes, its blemishes and smudges bare. It was as if someone had adjusted the focus of my vision, bringing everything into a crisp, heightened reality. Even my breath, once a subtle rhythm, now echoed loudly in my ears. Strength pumped through me, spreading from my core to each of my limbs, and it made me shiver.
"Woah."
I didn't get to ponder my newfound clarity for long as my eyes focused on a clear liquid pouring like a sheet of rain within the glass, quickly followed by the cacophony of loud extractor fans, causing me to flinch. They hummed in the background, and I watched the liquid undergo a brief transformation, darkening momentarily, creating a barrier between me and the white walled room. Then, within a minute, the enclosure transformed into a silver box; a reflective silver box.
"Can you see your reflection, Kalak?" The doctor asked, her voice through the intercom absent of its previous static.
"Yes."
The giant mirrored wall revealed the image of a scrawny, shirtless child. A single black velcro band adorned his waist, and a matching headband clung loosely around his forehead, strapping him upright to his chair. Two tubes fed into his arm, something akin to an IV drip, though they led into the floor instead of a stand, and further tendrils of wires reached towards his scalp, disappearing in tousled locks of black hair. And on his chest, there was a small device biting into his skin, positioned just above the heart.
“They’re all recording devices,” the doctor said, reading my mind. “You appear to have stabilised. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling… better?” I didn’t know how else to respond. “Like I have more strength?” The silence stretched, and I imagined Okapi writing notes to distract myself from my half naked reflection. Did I take off my shirt, or did she undress me? It was a disturbing thought.
“Kalak, what are you thinking about?”
“Uh… nothing?”
“You need to tell me what you were thinking if we want to make this work.” I nodded in response. “Do you know what gift I have, Kalak?”
“No?”
“I can tell when people are lying. So, what were you thinking about?”
She must’ve been bluffing, and even if she wasn’t, there’d be limits to a power like that. Limits that would stop her from truth-seeking whilst I was in here, and she was… wherever she was. “Lunch. I was thinking about lunch.”
“Try again.”
“Sleep.”
“Again.”
“My reflection.”
“More specific.”
“Why I was shirtless,” I conceded. “I was wondering why and how I was shirtless.” There was a pause, and I felt my heart thunder at the thought of her asking for details.
“Good. ‘Not that hard, was it?”
I gave out a small sigh of relief.
“Now, focus on the mirror. Let’s see what your gift is.”