Discovering Fae

I stared at the rock I had set up in front of me. It was sitting on a fallen log about ten feet away from me. It was my target.

It’s been four days in this jungle and I was tired of eating only termites. I figured if I could control this new magic of mine and make it not so puny, I might be able to kill a snake or one of those birds that I had yet to fully see. I’d take any form of protein that wasn’t a bug at this point.

I tried to make lightning, since that seemed to be my go-to, but all I managed was a few sparks that danced around my fingers. They wouldn’t leave me either. It was like they were stuck to me as I shook my hand, trying to dislodge them. They just clung to me, wiggling and dancing without a care in the world. Frustrated, I touched a tree close by in an effort to maybe wipe them off, I guess?

A loud pop echoed in the jungle, followed by the stench of burning wood. I lifted my hand and saw a perfect impression of my hand in black, the palm still smoking from the discharged electricity.

“Static is never going to be the same,” I mused as I looked from the tree to my hand and back again. “Could come in handy when Ben wants to cuddle during movie night, though I don’t think he’d like being barbecued.”

That’s defensive technique.

Tears welled in my eyes as I heard Nando’s voice in my head. He had been teaching me about some plant that stiffened itself when it felt something nearby. The plant itself would be hard, like a tree, and the tiny hairs would stand up like tiny needles. It was a source of sap that was like a that chewing gum Willy Wonka made that was a full course meal, minus the whole Violet Beauregard turning into a blueberry thing. It wouldn’t fill your stomach, but it had insane nutritional values.

“Defensive,” I mused, looking at my palm again.

It made sense. I wasn’t feeling too safe in this place, so I guess it was a natural thing. Then, I remembered what Mary had said when she was teaching me about the elements.

Our access to the fifth element gave the other elements our intent. I was angry when I let that lightning go that day and it had destroyed the metal wall. Here, I wasn’t feeling safe. It made even more sense than before.

“Is it the tool or the hand the wields it?” I asked, looking back at the scorched tree.

I looked back at the rock and took a breath. Closing my eyes, I imagined the rock was about to hurt me. It had been thrown and I had to stop it before it hit me. I snapped my eyes open and lifted my arm. Breathing out, I committed to the image in my head. The rock was flying towards me, coming closer and closer, about to hit me in the head. It would hurt. I would bleed and probably get knocked out. I felt a tiny bit of resistance as my instinct to react clashed with the reality that the rock wasn’t really moving, but I grabbed the instinct and twitched my fingers open.

I watched as a thin bolt of lightning left my fingertips and rocketed towards the rock, hitting it with a pop of discharge, sending it flying yards away to land harmlessly in the ferns and bushes.

I smiled as I let my arm fall.

“You rely too much on your emotions,” came the rasping voice I had heard yesterday.

The old man stood some distance away, holding the rock I had just launched into the undergrowth.

“They protect you, to a degree, but you let them control the power inside,” he said, looking at the rock with a keen interest. He looked up at me after a moment. “Who are you?”

“Not that again,” I groaned.

He smiled and sat the rock back on the log and left. Cryptic old fart.

I sat down and leaned against the tree I had burned to think about what he had said. As much as I hated to admit it, he seemed like he really did want to help while also not wanting to help. Contradictions aside, he wouldn’t have said anything if it didn’t mean something, right?

My emotions protect me, but I let them decide what the magic did when I called it. How in the heck did my emotions protect me? All they seem to be doing was make my life difficult. I hurt Mal, which in turn, was hurting me.

Wait a second.

I shocked Mal because I was having a nightmare. I zapped the wall because I had been angry. I air blasted a table to pieces because I had been having a panic attack. Every time I lost control, it was because of how I was feeling at the time.

I looked at the rock again and it clicked.

Sure, I was getting results, but I wasn’t the one that decided what those results were. It was my instincts. My reaction to the emotions I felt. All the things Mary and Quinn said about control suddenly made some sense. I didn’t need to shut off my emotions, I needed to keep them separated in order to get the magic to do only what I wanted it to do.

Easier said than done.

It’s like a fence or a glass wall, Nando had said as he tried to explain his new powers after his Awakening. I can still see the dog on the other side, I can hear it barking and growling, trying to take a bite out of my rear, but unless the fence comes down or the wall breaks, the dog is just noise. Harmless noise. When I use my powers, I put a leash on the dog and take it for a walk.

“Huh,” I said, rubbing my hands over my face. “Take it for a walk.”

I tried to imagine my power as a barking dog. Scary looking and aggressive. I smiled as I imagined Zane’s rottweiler. I put him behind a fence. It didn’t like that much, since it went totally insane, ripping the fence down like it was paper.

I huffed and opened my eyes again. It was getting late and I was hungry. A few termites and a handful of water might be in order before I crawled into my hanging bed for the night. I was sure I was burning more energy than I was getting by eating bugs, but it was better than nothing. I really needed a steak, but termites would have to do until I figured out how to get something other than bugs.

Ben

“If you need to go back, I’ll take you,” I said as I caught Blaine staring at a photo of him and Zane.

“This was taken last year,” he said, turning it around to show me before he sighed and slumped into the sofa. “The summer before Fae moved here.”

“You went to Yellowstone, right?” I asked, sitting on the other end.

“I got lost,” he snorted. “A hellhound. Lost.”

“You had just Awakened,” I shrugged.

“The hound took over and it was the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever felt in my life,” he smiled at the memory. “I never hated being a hellhound, you know. I hated being different than Zane. Our whole life, we did everything together. We understood each other.”

“You’re brothers. Twins,” I nodded.

“When Zane came to track me down, because Dad said it would be a good exercise for him, I could see it,” he shook his head as his thumb moved over the photo. “I don’t know what it was. Fear, maybe. Jealousy, perhaps. Zane always wanted to be strong. It’s the nature of the dog. We were his pack and he wanted to be able to protect the pack.”

“It’s why he was so angry when Fae was taken,” I nodded understanding.

“Since then, I’ve felt this distance between us. Growing bigger and wider every day,” he said, staring at the photo again. “This was taken the day before our birthday, before I Awakened. It’s the last time we were this close. I lost my brother that day and I hated it.”

“I always thought it was because being an unbound hellhound...” I left it hanging.

“The darkness of our nature,” he shrugged. “It’s a secret, but it’s not that hard to fight. It’s like wanting another piece of cake, but choosing your diet instead.”

“Who knew there was a Weight Watchers for hellhounds,” I joked and he snorted.

His amusement faded as quickly as it came, leaving him nothing but sadness and loss.

“He doesn’t even know about Nando,” he said.

As always, the name was like a knife in my chest, reminding me of the empty void his death had left behind. How distraught his family was. How Fae had screamed for someone to bring him back until she had no voice left.

“With him Fazed, it’s probably better if he doesn’t know until he comes out of it,” I said and ran my hands through my hair.

“The longer he’s Fazed, the less likely he’ll come out of it,” Blaine said. “No one comes back after Fazing for more than three weeks.”

“What?” I whispered.

“Zane is gone, Ben,” he choked on a sob. “We’re not looking for him to bring him back. We’re looking for him to destroy him.”