Season 1, Episode 1 - The Funeral II - "Longing"

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For first period, Isaac had history class. His teacher, Mr. Shokahu, stood at the front of the classroom, lecturing on the events of the past two hundred years. He always dressed in a black coat with black khakis, matching his black hair; today was no different. The only color on him could be found in the red scarf he wore around his neck no matter the temperature.

"Late to class again, are we?" he asked with his usual cynical dryness as Isaac's classmate Piper walked in, her large flash camera dangling around her neck in front of her.

"You've heard the rumors, Mr. Shokahu. There might be New York agents at our school!" Piper explained the possible enemy infiltration as if it was the most casual thing in the world. "I'm gonna be the first to find them, write about them, and publish about them – with photographic evidence to boot."

Mr. Shokahu just looked at her and shrugged. "Well, good luck with that."

Isaac became lost in his thoughts, barely noticing Piper as she took the seat in front of him. Absent-mindedly tapping his pencil on his notebook, Isaac supposed he liked Mr. Shokahu. He had never met someone more mellow. Nothing shook Mr. Shokahu, not even the time Demetrius Diakos threw a chair through the window in an attempt to kill a mosquito (it didn't work).

Isaac didn't like Piper quite as much. Her head and her hazel hair appeared larger than Isaac would've liked, blocking his view of the front. The two of them sat in the middle of the classroom, Isaac behind Piper, with lucky Audrey in the row against the windows. Isaac would've preferred that seat; you could see down into the training fields behind the school, the Rddhi Technical Corps practicing in all their glory, an array of red energy flaring upwards as the users activated their various powers.

"Alright, class, as we remember from last week, modern history began with the Unleashing – that cryptic, sci-fi event that unleashed the energy field known as the Rddhi..." Mr. Shokahu spoke in a mellow tone that meant well, but Isaac slowly spaced out, wondering why Piper had to have such a big head.

Genetics? Just to spite me? And it's not like I'm mad at her just because she's a Rddhi user and I'm not.

"...the Unleashing destroyed the central government of the United States, permanently splintering the union into a multitude of successor states. All of these, of course, are illegitimate, except for our beloved New England Confederation, who will surely bring about the ultimate restoration of the Union under its leadership. By her sword we will bring about a quiet peace under liberty."

Mr. Shokahu seemed less enthusiastic about it than the creators of the curriculum did.

"Two hundred years have passed since then, and the Rddhi field has interacted with humans long enough that you fortunate students are among the first generation to display widespread Rddhi usage. Widespread being relative of course; in the school I attended, we only had three users. This school has roughly a hundred."

That rough hundred, of course, did not include Isaac, who lowered his head as Mr. Shokahu continued his lecture. Isaac had done all he could to bring his body to the human max...well, he tried, at least. A hundred pushups a day, a hundred situps a day, hitting the school gym when he wasn't too busy watching television...well, he certainly tried. He was in decent shape at least, something a lot of people couldn't say.

But to go beyond the limits of the normal human body...the possibilities were infinite. But first among them was the ability to protect the innocent. Isaac thought of his brother, guarding the border, protecting the citizens of New England, the sad, warm smile as he left home after receiving the draft notice. It made Isaac recall the interview process when he first applied to the Academy...

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Isaac sweated nervously, hoping the sweat wouldn't ruin the best suit he could afford to rent for a weekend. In contrast, the interviewer sat lazily behind his desk, dressed in a shabby green trench coat provided by the school to its students, leaning far back in his seat, his hands behind his head.

"Welcome to West Narragansett Technical Academy...insert candidate name here?" The interviewer looked at Isaac in confusion. "Ah, I'm supposed to put your name here," he realized. "They really ought to give me more directions on how to interview someone. I'm just filling in for the normal guy today."

"...ok."

"Well, Isaac," the interviewer continued, his words dipped in an amused enjoyment of this whole thing. "It says here you have never displayed any Rddhi abilities." The interviewer held up an old metal spoon. "Can you bend this?"

Isaac directed his thoughts at it for a moment before sighing. "Ah...no. I mean, I can with my hands..."

"Anyone can bend a spoon with their hands. Heck, I usually bend my spoon when scooping out ice cream. Not my fault, you know, the temperature on my icebox broke, so it got stuck on this high freezing level, so now the ice cream bends my spoon when I try to scoop it out.”

The interviewer shrugged. "Ah, but that's just life, right?"

"...yes?"

The interviewer looked over some notes. "So, insert candidate name here, you are unable to display any Rddhi abilities. However, we here at the Academy pride ourselves in taking in those with the desire and will to make their dreams a reality. At Cambridge High School or the Institute High School, only those with connections, money, and power make it in. Is that fair? To deny someone a chance at pursuing their goals just because they were born poor? Just because their families aren't entangled with politicians and businessmen? Just because they're ranked as Class 5s when a Class 1 or even a Class 0 can display just as much, if not more, determination, spirit, and belief in the national, manifest destiny?

"We here at West Narragansett Technical Academy say no! The drive inside a man is not determined by genetics or political connections or wealth. It is determined by the man himself and how far he wants to take himself in life! Our only goal here at the Academy is to provide the wind beneath your blossoming wings! Note: if applicant is female, please replace all instances of male-gendered words and phrases with female-gendered equivalents...I feel like you should put a note like that beforehand."

The interviewer collected himself.

"Well, that spiel came straight from the boss himself, Mr. Stockham, and his word is law around here. Our Academy isn't an exclusive club. If you think you can do it, we'll help you." The interviewer grinned. "Therefore, what makes you think you're qualified to attend West Narragansett Technical Academy?"

Isaac paused nervously for a moment.

Why do I want to be here?

He clenched his fist.

That's the most obvious thing in the world!

"My father died at the end of the First American War," Isaac admitted.

The interviewer kept his easy grin, but his eyes had a hint of sorrow in them. "I see. Would that be at the Battle of Niantic?"

Isaac nodded. "Right when the war was winding down. I can't even imagine what it must've been like, knowing you were only a few weeks away from peace and seeing home again. They say he died fighting when Yorkists overran his trench and that he's buried in the big cemetery near the city, but since the whole area's still under military administration, I've never got a chance to visit it."

"I'm sorry about your father."

"It's okay. I never even met him. I only know him indirectly from the weight that was on my mother's shoulders."

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"The weight?"

Back home, Isaac practiced these next words for a long while. He needed to make every one of them count. "Even if I never met him, I still got a pretty good idea of him from the way my mother carried herself in the years after his death. A person never really leaves, you know? Even their absence can still be a presence in someone's life. They leave an impression on you and they live on in your memories. So, my father lived on through my mother. She carried the strength of both herself and my father in her. I was too young to really appreciate it until it was too late. Two years ago, she died from illness."

The interviewer looked grim. "Crimson Fever?"

Isaac sighed. "She raised two young boys - my older brother and I - during the Quinetucket Years and the National Awakening. She got us through the violence and martial law. She helped us through school while holding down a job with long hours at the mill. I didn't realize what she did for us until it was too late. Before I could return the favor, she was gone. My whole life, I feel like I've had others watching over me. My father was strong for us in the war. My mother was strong for us afterwards. And then my brother got me through to now. But there's no one after me. That's why I want to return the favor to everyone."

Isaac's right fist tightened. Since he had no powers, this interview needed to go flawlessly. He was grateful for the help his brother gave him with practicing what he needed to say, especially this next part. And getting help from his brother, that just made Isaac want to return the favor to others even more.

Isaac's eyes were full of fire. "You say the school supports dreams, right? I got a pretty big one. I want to make a new world. Wipe the slate clean. I really think we can create a global peace not seen since the Golden Age. I want to return the favor on a national scale, if not global. We can do it! We really can!"

The interviewer rubbed his chin, a mixture of amusement and curiosity on his face. "How would we?"

Isaac sighed darkly. "We have to destroy the village to save it. We have to right the wrongs of the First American War by winning the next one, and with America restored, we can reform the system! We can recreate the three branches of government and become a force for peace again."

The interviewer chuckled. "It's been two hundred years since the Unleashing. The idea of America is just that - an idea. And there are a lot of people who would argue the United States wasn't exactly a force for peace in the first place."

Isaac spent long hours in practice arguments with his brother. It wasn't just enough to say a point - you have to defend it, believe in it.

"It may be idealistic, but I really do think...if we just believe and have faith in ourselves, and do what needs to be done...we can make a better world and actually fulfill the ideals we claim to stand for. The next war's inevitable, but it might be more important not to lose the peace that comes after it."

The interviewer wrote down some notes.

"Well, I think that's enough," the interviewer said, putting away the half-filled out forms into a briefcase. "You're in."

Isaac didn't believe what he just heard.

"I'm...I'm in?"

The interview shrugged. "Well, not actually. I gotta go tell the higher-ups about the interview and they'll decide. I'm just a stand-in for today, but I'll vouch for you. I liked the interview."

He leaned in and smiled warmly.

"Reminds me of me when I was young, you know?"

That's when Isaac saw it. There were five silver markings on his shoulders, designating this older student as a Class 5. Isaac realized he had seen this student in highlight reels, now recognizing his sandy hair and his lean body that drifted through combat. This was Clayton Wesley, the strongest Rddhi user in the school, separating himself from his peers by the end of his first year.

Clayton stuck his hand out. Isaac gladly shook it.

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The school bell took Isaac out of his memories, and Isaac went through the school day the usual way - giving everything his all, or at least trying. By the time the last bell rang and Isaac and Audrey got to their lockers, Reed already had all of her things packed away, her head bobbing to imaginary music.

"Going so soon?" Audrey asked.

Reed smiled sarcastically as she shut her locker door. "Got a funeral to catch."

Isaac frowned. "Let us know how it goes. Pour some dirt onto him for me."

Reed ignored Isaac's sarcasm. "Trust me," she said bluntly, "You'd do the same."

Isaac blinked as Reed walked away.

"No, I wouldn't it!" he called out after her. Reed didn't bother to answer, instead slipping into the crowd of students as they filtered out towards the staircase that would take them out of the school.

Audrey shook her head. "She's something."

"Definitely something. What that something may be, I got no idea."

Isaac and Audrey took their time at the lockers. Isaac needed to wait for the school to empty before he began his janitorial duties; Audrey's Rddhi training didn't start for an hour; they always ended up looking for ways to kill the time before they went their separate ways. That hour of free time usually resulted in them talking aimlessly in front of their lockers.

"I'm telling you, Isaac, you gotta try pineapples!"

"But they're never in the market."

Audrey raised a finger. "You gotta look more often! You gotta be consistent. You're one of the most consistent people I know, but you can't stick to a pineapple hunting schedule?"

Isaac grinned, never one to miss a chance to mess with Audrey. "Why would I want a pineapple when I have freely-available apples? What's so good about the pine?"

Audrey waved her arms ecstatically. "It's not like it's an apple from a pine tree!"

Isaac had her. "Then where do they come from?"

Audrey hesitated. "...I have no idea. But definitely not from a pine tree. I think from Florida, maybe?"

Isaac crossed his arms as he leaned against his locker, smirking. "What about Florida pine trees?"

"Florida doesn't have pine trees."

"Do I have to remind you that I'm an elementary school geography bee winner?"

"You always remind me!"

The two friends laughed, but Isaac noticed the look in Audrey's eyes.

Despite trying to hide it, her heart's not into this conversation. Something's up.

A lull in the conversation came. Audrey looked at her shoes.

"I wish there was some way for me to give you my powers," she finally said.

"Huh?" Isaac looked over at her. She finally looked back at him, a sort of sadness in her eyes that usually never appeared.

"I know how much you want to help out everyone," she said. "Sometimes, life isn't fair, you know?" She looked upwards, smiling softly at the overhead fluorescent lights. "You'd do so much with the Rddhi, yet I get it and Reed gets it and you don't get anything. I'm sorry."

Isaac didn't know what to say to that.

"Don't be," he said at last. Audrey looked back at him in surprise.

"It's not your fault how things ended up. We all get our lots in life." Isaac shrugged nonchalantly at that, because it was true, wasn't it? "Sure, you and Reed are ahead of me right now. But that only means I need to work harder."

Isaac gave her a thumbs up. "In fact, I want you to stay ahead of me. It'll give me someone to chase after. And I hope getting chased makes you work harder, too. We're all in this together."

Audrey looked away, but from the motion of a finger across her face, Isaac supposed she was wiping away a tear. She was pretty sensitive, after all, especially when it came to the misfortune of others. Audrey looked back at him, but it was like she was looking into the distance, looking at realities that could never be. Like she believed Isaac would be alright...but that alrightness would have nothing to do with him ever realizing his full superpowered potential he continually worked for. Because that look said she wanted nothing more in the world than for him to unlock his psychic powers...but she also knew it would never be.

Audrey was too nice like that. For all her cheeriness, her joy – Audrey was the kind of person to give up on what she believed to be impossible.

Not Isaac. Isaac would keep going. Always.

"You're a great friend, Isaac," Audrey said. "You always inspire me to keep moving forward. Thanks."

Isaac rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little red.

"...same to you. Now, get to practice! I don't want to hold you up."

Audrey gave him a thumbs up in return. "See you, Isaac!" she called out as she left, headed for the fields outside.

Isaac realized he was alone now. He closed his locker and moved slowly away, his head slightly down.

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The third building out of the three Academy buildings was the quietest. Academics-wise, the school only held woodshop and machinery classes in the Tertiary Building and devoted most of its rooms to storage. People-wise, only a handful of students and faculty, if any, could be found in the Tertiary Building after school let out for the day.

Isaac didn't really like the quiet. He enjoyed the presence of people, the masses of his peers. Being in a crowd comforted him. He liked seeing other people and he liked the inspiration he took from them. If other people could keep moving forward, keep working towards their goals, if everyone around him was trying, then why wouldn't it be the same for him?

Thoughts like that are what helped him push the mop around an empty classroom. Isaac didn't mind cleaning classrooms all that much. But bathrooms, on the other hand... Isaac liked to clean a bathroom, then a classroom, then another bathroom, back and forth to break up the monotony.

The current classroom was empty. Isaac kept the lights off, preferring to work in the relative darkness. Midway through September, the sun set earlier compared with summer; the first of the orange rays as the sun dipped below the horizon entered through the classroom windows.

Isaac leaned his mop against the wall and looked forlornly through the windows. Down below, he could see the training fields, which looked like a stadium because it was a stadium (Isaac was also a fan of West Narragansett Technical Academy’s football team). He spotted training groups running laps on the maroon track that ringed grass fields; on the fields themselves he saw red sparks, crackling with the energy of the Rddhi.

Isaac sighed and reached for his mop again-

A cry for help suddenly passed through.

Isaac stood there, his outstretched hand trembling, the mop falling to the tiled floor.

What was that? I...I didn't hear that. I felt it.

He felt it right through his body, filling the space of it, as if Isaac had cried out himself. It even seemed to pull Isaac, as if telling him to go right out the door.

Isaac didn't know why he could hear it, but he could. Leaving the janitor bucket behind, Isaac sprinted away in the direction of the voice.