Powerless Revision 1 (7 page)

“Wait, you went to the same school?” Mira asked in astonishment.

“Yes, I did, and they’d only just built the schoolhouse. Our instructor was actually Mert Bogger, if you can believe it. Guess he was the only guy they could find with the time. So we basically just taught ourselves. Ended up building some of the schoolhouses for the lower levels too. It was great fun. Only had a few homes around the outpost back then.”

“Wow, I didn’t know that!”

“Course now I feel incredibly old. Let’s pretend none of that ever happened,” he said, scratching the stubble on his neck.

“You’re not old,” Jeana jumped in. “Don’t pay any attention to those gray hairs.”

“I’m just trying to be more like you,” he poked back.

Just then a loud knock came at the front door. Kevin jumped out of his seat and went to investigate. Both Jeana and Mira were surprised and curious too. They’d never had a visitor before.

“Yes, of course. Please come right in,” Kevin said, and a moment later he returned to the living room to the absorbed expressions of his wife and daughter. Before they could ask who it was, a tall man stepped through the doorway.

Not only tall but also muscular, and of some age, the man had short blonde hair and a dollish face marred only by a few scars on the left cheek. He wore a heavy overcoat, despite the heat, that clinked when he walked. No doubt a weapon of some size must hide beneath his coat. When he spoke, his voice sounded lighter than one might expect, but it had a rough, insistent quality.

“Good evening to you. My name is Ogden Fortst.”

Mira might have guessed, but confirming his identity did force her to look at him in a more respected light.

“Welcome. Thank you for coming. This is my wife Jeana, and this is Mira,” Kevin said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jeana said.

“A pleasure, Ma’am. And yes, Mira,” he said, turning to address her. “I’m sure you know I’ll be your instructor this year, ladling piping hot spoonfuls of knowledge into your head and generally being a helpful resource for you at all times.”

Mira nodded and they shook hands.

“If there’s anything special I can do to help you, anything at all, just let me know because…,” he said, looking down and seemingly groping for a thought.

“I just received your information today, and you have to admit, I mean, I was surprised, at least, about, you know. Is it true that you just have no power?”

Mira had been watching him as he struggled to get out his thought. She found his manner both unnerving and endearing.

“That’s right,” she said. “No powers. What you see is what you get.”

“Really?” Ogden said as if he finally believed it. He looked her straight in the eyes. “It’s not going to be easy for you. I hope you know that. And I can’t be seen to give you any special treatment or assistance. Gotta keep things equal. It wouldn’t be fair to the other students.”

Her parents gave each other a look, but Mira nodded again.

“Of course. But there is one small thing you could do for me, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

Ogden gave her a suspicious look.

“What is it?”

“The other students don’t know about me yet. If we kept it a secret, perhaps I might be able to use that to my advantage. Do you see what I’m saying?”

Her parents gave each other a more urgent look. Ogden simply smiled.

“Some mind games, huh? I like it. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Can I get you a beverage or a snack, Mr. Fortst? Would you like to sit down?” Jeana asked.

“Thanks for the offer, but I must be on my way. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning,” he said to Mira. Standing up, he nodded to her folks, and just like that he was gone. They heard the front door shut and again they were left to themselves. Mira turned to look at her parents, both of whom were smiling down on her.

“Got something up your sleeve?”

“Maybe.”

“Better make sure to get plenty of rest tonight so you’re ready for your big day tomorrow.”

“That, at least, is one thing I can count on.”

Feeling like a family of butterflies had nested in her stomach, Mira set out to journey from her home to the schoolhouse. If attending a new school on the first day wasn’t hard enough, she thought, the pressure of having to compete against classmates she knew nothing about would crush her. Her only hope was that they knew nothing about her too.

Saying goodbye to her parents, her mother, almost in tears, had told her to just try her hardest and never give up. Hugging her tightly, she accidentally put Mira to sleep.

“Well that won’t do!” Jeana moaned, shaking Mira awake.

Mira thought about her mother’s words, and she imagined if she just tried hard enough she might be able to find a way. Of course, she knew it wouldn’t hurt to be a little lucky too.

Approaching the outpost, she saw other students wearing the same outfit as hers. They laughed and pushed each other, appearing perfectly comfortable. She watched them when they slipped onto the trail near the marble rock that she would walk down in a moment. Her eyes still on them, she almost collided with another boy as he entered the trail. This particular boy had reddish hair and very bright eyes.

“Hi,” he said, but Mira felt shy, so she only nodded. She followed him down the trail in silence, listening to the wind in the orange and red leaves and the echoing sound of laughter from other students.

Approaching the schoolhouse, a few students finished talking and ran inside. Judging by the noise, she could tell that everyone had already arrived. A sudden panic that she was late crossed her mind. Peeking her head through the door, she realized Mr. Fortst had not yet shown up and only one desk in the back was empty. Before she took it, she noticed several students had moved their desks as far away from one other student as possible.

She wondered why, but she soon became more focused on her new desk, which the students had avoided too. It wobbled and a sizable crack in the seat meant that the bottom might give out at any time. Sighing quietly to herself, she gingerly set down on the seat. No one paid her any attention and she just kept to herself.

Moments later, heavy footsteps approached the schoolhouse and all of the students immediately sat up straight, looked forward, and shushed. Still wearing the thick overcoat that reached up to his hair, Ogden Fortst took his place behind the podium with a twirl, gripping the sides with his big hands and leering down at the fifteen students before him.

“Hey you, kid!” he abruptly shouted. “Close that door. Let’s get started here.” One of the boys near the back ducked into the aisle and pulled the rickety piece of wood shut.

“Opening ceremony: check,” he said aloud to himself.

Fortst stood there looking down at the students. The students looked up at Fortst. They labored through a few intense moments of looking at each other.

“Ok, I’m going to be your teacher now. So you’d better listen to what I say or there’s gonna be trouble. We’re going to be working hard, and I don’t want to hear any complaining. Things could get very dangerous for you, especially with all that’s happening in the world now. I’ve been to the warfront and fought with our allies. I’ve seen the cruel enemy sun do the bidding of evil. Let me tell you, it’s not pretty! So you’d better be ready for it.”

He extended a scrutinizing glance to the students and took stock of the impact of his words. He seemed satisfied.

“Inspiring words: check.”

After another prolonged pause, Fortst suddenly sprung into action.

“You may be wondering who I am. Well, let me show you.” He pulled out a clear glass container from behind the lectern and set it on a nearby table. Next, he poured some water into it from a bottle he carried inside his coat.

“You, girl, what’s the temperature of this water?” The girl he had pointed to in the front row stood up, leaned over, and put her hand against the container. She replied that the water was cold.

“Ok, can you please come up here?” Fortst gestured to the boy whom the other students had moved their desks away from. Though a large, stocky boy, he was not as tall as Fortst. The boy got up and stood next to Fortst, who immediately put his hand up to his face to shield himself.

“Wow, that’s warm. I’ve got a feeling you’ll have a lot more friends come winter. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Dennis,” he said.

Fortst put one hand on Dennis and the other in the bowl of water. The students watched, and after a few seconds bubbles formed in the water. Gradually the water came to a full boil, his hand still inside the bowl. Finally, removing both of his hands, he gave a short bow and the students clapped.

“Thank you, thank you. All right. The plan for today is first we’ll have a lecture and then this afternoon we’ll decide your ranks based on the results of a one v. one tournament,” he said, while pouring the water back in his bottle. The mention of the tournament perked everyone’s interest. A few students threw up their hands and asked questions about the format of the competition. Fortst waved them all off.

“No, no, no. This one’s a surprise. You won’t know until you get there. We’ve got a lot to cover first.”

The students leaned back in their chairs, already losing interest, while the teacher roused himself for his first lecture.

“The most important thing I can teach you is to know your surroundings. You’ve got to know everything about where you are at all times or else you could be in serious trouble. You’ve got to understand it. Look out the window here. What do you see? Trees, the forest, uneven terrain, and brightly colored leaves. But, who can tell me why the leaves change colors?”

Fortst stood near the window, gazing over the silent students before him. He waited patiently, making it clear that he expected an answer. His pupils, however, remained motionless. Feeling it was silly to stall the class when she knew the answer, Mira raised her hand.

“Yes, you in the back.”

“Leaves change colors because they have less of the green-colored chlorophyll, which turns water and carbon dioxide into food for the tree. Because there is less light and water in the fall, trees make less chlorophyll. The colors come from the food, called glucose, and the wastes that remain in the leaves.”

Fortst stared at her blankly. Some of the students had turned to look at her, their faces equally blank.

“I was just going to say because it gets cold. Okay, then why don’t those trees with the needles change colors or become bare?” he asked, pointing to an evergreen, and clearly trying to save face.

“Those kinds of trees, called coniferous trees, are better suited for colder climates, and so they have needles that use less energy and keep them all year round. They still have chlorophyll and turn the gas into food, in a process called photosynthesis. Trees with big leaves that change colors and fall are called deciduous trees, by the way.”

Now all of the students had turned to look at her. Fortst was obviously speechless.

“What kind of tree is that?” he asked.

“It’s a pine tree.”

“What about that white one?”

“That’s a birch tree,” she answered, even though she couldn’t see it.

Flustered, Fortst returned to his podium. He leaned down over it with his face in his palm.

“Well, that was my whole lesson, so just give me a minute to think of something else.”

The students began talking to each other again, only this time Mira thought it was a fair bet they were talking about her. After some time, Fortst looked over at the pile of teaching materials in the corner. He pulled out a large map and hung it on the wall over the blackboard. The weight of the map caused one of the wallboards to crack. It dangled at a slight angle.

“Ok, would the pearl of wisdom in the back of the room please tell me where Martyr’s Fjord is on this map?”

Mira leaned forward, struggling to see. “I don’t know,” she said.

“Perhaps that was too difficult,” Fortst smirked. “Where is the border that our warriors are defending from the heathen, bloodthirsty, marauding Sunfighters at this very moment?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, feeling defeated. Some of the students had turned around to look at her, and Fortst cast a quizzical glance.

“Just one more question: where are we?”

Mira looked one more time at the map, made up of landmasses she had never seen, and then lowered her head. No one in the classroom made a peep.

“That’s why you need to know your surroundings,” Fortst trumpeted to the class. “You never know when that information could be used against you or save your life.”

***

The morning slowly passed. Fortst was obviously grasping at straws, making up his lesson as he went along and taking plenty of generous breaks. This may not have been such a bad plan though, considering the distractions his students faced with the upcoming contest. When the time finally came for them to begin their test, they leapt out of their chairs, almost ready to do battle on the spot.

Fortst lead his troop along another path deeper into the forest. They came to a clearing that had a very distinctly and suspiciously perfect rectangular shape. Waiting along the edge in a line, the students watched the instructor stride out to the center of the short grass.