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Kyra was only thirteen. Thirteen and a half, probably. A Year Three at any rate. It was the same day as every day had been her whole godsforsaken life, in Atlantis, waiting for her mother to finish throwing money at every shop she could find. It was hardly a limited resource, and yet she still seemed to think herself among the elites, just for how much this bangle she was wearing, or these earrings she bought, were worth. Of course, it wouldn’t be the same day for long, but Kyra, in a naïvety no doubt learned from her mother, assumed it to be.
“Mother,” She whined, dragging both her words and her feet across the cobblestones. “Are you almost ready to go home? My head really hurts.”
“Almost. The Borsari family are hosting a party next week, and you do know how important it is to have a new outfit. Oh, do stop dragging your shoes; the sapphires are grinding away into dust!”
Kyra sighed dramatically, throwing her head back and staring up into the swirling inky water above her. When she looked back down, her mother was swanning elegantly through the arch doorway of another boutique, glittering with gems cut into a million precise facets that were all intent on glaring directly into Kyra’s eyes.
The blinding glints and flashes bored into her mind, settling into a deep headache behind her eyes. In search of respite, she wandered dazedly to a stone fountain, and perched on the edge.
Her eyes wandered up again, tracing the slope of the dome, curving down to connect to the ground not far from where she sat. The ocean struggled to find its way into the underwater city, reaching out to push against the barrier holding it at bay.
She could see the crackles along the force field as objects bumped into it from outside, the ripples they sent through the gauzy surface. It was absolutely enchanting. She could feel the pain that had been nagging at her head all day fading away into a dull buzz at the base of her skull, crackling down her arms and spine, into her fingertips, lighting her nerves with a hum she was entirely unused to.
Panic tugged her one way, as instinct tore her another. Everything felt bright, loud, hot, cold, why hadn’t she noticed this feeling before? She wanted to shut it out. The light filling her head begged her not to, to let it stay. Her bones pulled her another way, into the pool of hissing power deep in her belly, the one that had always been there, but had been waiting.
It must’ve been hours she sat, attention fixed on everything and nothing, before she tore herself away, and looked around. The boutique her mother had been in was dark, with blinds drawn, and the crowd had thinned to only a trickle of late night browsers.
Kyra was used to her mother becoming preoccupied and leaving her daughter behind, so she felt no panic when she realised she was without a parent. Atlantis was safer after the Neverseen retreated to their own devices, anyhow.
She reached for her home crystal, wondering if her father was home from his work as an Emissary for the day yet. The blindingly bright street lamp cast a beam so bright she had to squint when looking at it. No matter. She got her nexus off last week, she could light leap home for sure.
Reaching her hand into the beam of light was perhaps the biggest mistake she had ever made. Whatever had possessed her, she would never know. She couldn’t even leap above water with a home crystal alone. Maybe everything was so bright, it just felt as if she was on solid ground.
The sensation was instant; lightly brushing feathers turning to vicious needles stabbing at her, ripping her apart and stealing the pieces. She shrieked, as children are so predisposed to do at the slightest hurt, but the pain was not comparable to a scrape on the knee or a bumped head. Her hand was gone, visibly gone, and she tried to tear it free from the beam of light.
Evidently, her commotion attracted the attention of the passers-by, and they stopped, watching with neutral curiosity as she cried and clutched her burning, ghostly pale hand to her chest.
A poor, kind soul approached, his eyes gentle and hands out as if comforting a spooked animal. In her blind agony, Kyra did not see him, only the flashes of light that felt like they were tearing at her whole body, even after she had dropped and shattered the blasted crystal.
Everything felt too much, too much, and she wondered if she would ever see anything but white and glittering prisms ever again, when a hand touched her shoulder. The roiling energy in her belly rose through her skin and every hair on her body raised as she protected herself.
It felt right, her throbbing head calming already, the flecks of light clearing as she blinked, the pain in her hand just a distant memory as she followed a path that must have been etched into her mind since before she was born. It guided her to pull the energy from her core; her spine, her belly, the base of her neck, and push it out through her skin as something vaguely electric, bright, real.
When the frenzy of…whatever had overcome her ended, she sank to her knees shakily, sucking air in and out, in and out. It was more tangible now, the light that surrounded her, but the power inside her felt completely separate, unique. She owned and controlled that power, creating it herself, while the light was just something she tried to push away, to little avail.
Her ears gradually stopped ringing, and she realised they had been in the first place, as voices faded in around her.
“...Manifesting…”
“...Get someone?”
“...Never seen that…”
“...Is he okay?”
With a slight start that sent more crackles down her arms, she looked up and around. IS who okay? It wasn’t difficult to work out who they were talking about.
About a foot away from her was a man, lying down with his eyes closed and his hands curled into fists. His right hand was scorched black, and he cradled it close to him as he gritted his teeth. Kyra reached out, tentatively, and her fingers buzzed more as she moved closer.
“I-I’ sorry, I…can I…how can I help you?” She stuttered, ignoring the exhaustion in her bones in favour of the pained man before her.
“It’s fine…just give me a minute…don’t…I think my Charging is reacting with your Psionipathy…” My what? Psionipathy? But I haven’t manifest…oh. It would explain…well…all of the strange symptoms she’d had that week. The restlessness she couldn’t stop. The migraines no elixir could temper. The overwhelmingness of everything, and the desire to just shut it all out.
The thin crowd was beginning to disperse now, save for a figure in the back dressed sharply, almost too sharply for Atlantis. Their face had the shiftiness of someone wearing an Addler, a more common sight since the Neverseen’s going into hiding, but still disquieting. Before Kyra had time to puzzle it out, the man looked up at her and smiled through the grimace painted on his face by the pain from his hand.
“Right. Well, that was a…shocking way to meet, for sure, but…I think I might be able to help you. Manifesting was really difficult for me too, and our abilities are…similar enough that I think I can help you keep a lid on any more frenzies, at least until you get home. What family are you from?”
“I- uh…thank you. I’m from the Reylenn family.” Kyra said, casting a sidelong glance at the stranger standing in her peripheral, who was reaching into their pocket now. “I- do you know that person?”
The man turned to follow her gaze, and the smile vanished from his face in an instant. “You need to ge–” He was interrupted by the stranger whipping a small, clear sphere from their pocket filled with wires of some kind. “Stop trying to play the hero, Virgil. It doesn’t look good on you.” They sneered, hurling the sphere between Kyra and the man, before turning on their heel and sweeping away.
The man’s eyes filled with terror as the device got closer to the ground. “Get aw–”
The next few seconds were a blur. Scraping together every ounce of her newfound powers, Kyra tried to protect herself and the kind man, but the force fields flickered dangerously, and shattered completely as the spherical device made contact with the ground. Electrical currents ripped outwards from it, ;argely missing Kyra for the sole reason her shield had held up slightly steadier, but the man before her, Virgil, was not nearly as fortunate.
Watching the life pour from someone’s eyes was like seeing an hourglass be smashed, and the sand pour out in something that can only be described as “not supposed to happen”. Whatever this man had been doing, whatever rebellions or organisations he had caught himself up in, they had caught right back up with him.
Kyra had no memories of the next few hours. When she finally returned to her senses, she was huddled in an alleyway with Virgil’s body beside her, shaking and crying violently. He had no registry pendant. Maybe no family. Who would know if he died? She plucked a handful of his shoulder-length honey gold hair, putting it in her pocket before slumping against the wall again.
She woke with the city, suddenly aware of the bustling on the streets, and relieved she was at least out of sight of the public. Or at least, maybe. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. She scanned the alleyway, clutching Virgil’s cold hand in her own as she tried to bend the light to her will to see better.
Manifesting two abilities at once was extremely rare, but maybe, just maybe, the universe had sided with her on this. Kind of. Her hand was still stinging, and pale in a way she doubted would ever fully go away. Maybe the universe heard that bitter thought, because the light in the alleyway grew just a bit brighter. Her imagination, or a second ability, she could now see the hooded figure standing in a dark corner.
She scrambled in front of Virgil, wondering if they were here to take the man she barely knew and yet felt so drawn to protect, if there was a white eye on the sleeve of that cloak. A member of the Neverseen?
“Stay back! Get away. I’ll hurt you. I will.” She said, mustering a small, faintly glowing sphere of staticky energy in her hand and brandishing it. The hooded figure chuckled.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to…uh…recruit you. The Black Swan has been intent on getting more kids into their line of work for whatever reason. Fixing the oldies messes, I guess.” The figure shrugged his hood off, and Kyra squinted to see pale skin, and the famous black-and-silver hair.
“Yep. It’s me.” Tam deadpanned. “One of your big fat heroes, who drove the Neverseen back into whatever hole they crawled out of. But hey, it’s been a whole ass year now, and what’s the world without constant turmoil? So, are you with me, or not?”