The Prodigy Page 9

  If only I were as effective out here as I am when I’m training with Mr. Ferris.

  I open my eyes, putting an end to my meditation session, and the world slowly begins to open up to me. The sounds of my classmates sparring become apparent, and I take my time, listening to the chaos from afar. Things have been ramping up this week, and reasonably so. Everyone’s out here trying to do their best... I’m making progress too, but it isn’t enough. It’s frustrating to know that your body used to be able to do something and now it can’t. It’s like I’m a shelf of my former self.

  “Aiden?” A voice snaps me from my thoughts, and I turn back towards the origin of the sound. Mr. Hoover was watching me, for how long, I don’t know. He steps out from the shade of the tree he was against, hands resting in his pockets, and I brush off the dirt from my clothes before standing to greet him.

  “Oh, hey. You snuck up on me. What’s up?”

  “As I’m sure you’re aware, I’ve been in contact with Mr. Ferris. He’s been keeping me up to date on your progression.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been learning a lot.”

  “Good. I’ve gotten a similar report, however...”

  “However?”

  “Mr. Ferris said that you need more time. You’ve regained access to your abilities, but not in their full capacity. Do you remember our conversation when I first referred you to Mr. Ferris?”

  “I do, but I still have two weeks. I’ll be back to full strength by then. I-I’ve been keeping up with my training, I swear. See?” I sprout a flame from my hand and feed it energy to make it grow as much as I can. A streak of pain shoots throughout my arm, causing the flame to flicker. I hide my distress and call off the flame, but I can tell that Mr. Hoover isn’t impressed.

  “Aiden,” Mr. Hoover says after sighing. “Listen... I feel like you’re missing the bigger picture. If I let you compete, you may be endangering yourself and your other classmates. Also, this is only one exercise of many. Regaining your abilities should take precedence over performing well in a controlled environment. I understand that there are underlying reasons behind your convictions, but please, put them in perspective. I made the assumption that you had the emotional maturity to handle the dangers of your upcoming trial. Don’t prove me wrong. Your training with Mr. Ferris is for something far greater, and carries that much more of a risk. The fact that he determined that you’re not ready, despite your progress, shows just how dangerous the final stages of your training will be. This won’t be held against you, Aiden. It’s for your safety... What kind of teacher would I be if I allowed you to participate in your condition? We foster growth here at Crown, not run it into the ground. Things like this take time, Aiden. Trust those that came before you.”

  “...Yes, sir.” My head sinks towards the ground, and I realize that my fists are balled and shaking. Seeing what I’m doing, I loosen my grip and look Mr. Hoover in the eye. “I understand.”

  I don’t, but it’s all that I can say at this point to save face. I need him to believe in me, that I can pull through. It’s that much harder when no one’s in your corner. I just need more time. Hell, I might even already be strong enough to venture into my subconscious already and win. I’m stronger than my doubts, I know it. I wouldn’t be trying if I wasn’t.

  “If you wish, you can watch the battles from our observation area when the time comes. There’s much to learn, even from the sidelines. Ms. Cosgrove and I would most certainly enjoy your company.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll be there.”

  “Good. Don’t let this minor setback derail you, Aiden. Your future’s as bright as it’s ever been.”

  I hope so.

  Mr. Hoover takes his leave shortly after his proclamation, timing his departure just moments before class ends. His words hit me heavy. Being forced to resign from the combat exercise was the last thing I was expecting to happen to me today.

  My anger builds, and I feel my power boiling within me. A flame emerges over my hand.

  This isn’t fair!

  I punch the base of the closest tree. The skin on my knuckles peels back—it stings—but it’s nothing compared to the pain from using my powers while in my current state. Even after all of my effort, the strike only dented the tree. Nothing more.

  My flame disintegrates and I can feel a trickle of blood starting to flow down my fingers and onto the ground.

  They’re wrong. I am ready. I can defeat this, and I’m going to prove it to them, one way or another.

  Chapter 8

  After Mr. Hoover broke the news to me, I didn’t know how to take it. When it first happened, I was so ashamed, and that shame magnified the closer we got to the day of the exercise. Mr. Hoover and Ms. Cosgrove did a good job of explaining to the other students why I wasn’t participating while maintaining my privacy, but it still felt bad. Of course, the other students pried for information, Summer especially. And it makes sense. They’re concerned. I’d just fought for my life, and I haven’t really been in class since. I mean, I’m there, but not in the same capacity as everyone else. There was a time when I felt like I was on top of the world; not now.

  Now, I’m just trying to make sure that no one thinks that something is wrong with me, which means I have to work that much harder.

  “I told you yesterday that we’d be starting a new phase in your training, so consider this day one.” Mr. Ferris folds his arms, and the sky above shifts into a myriad of colors. “Mr. Hoover has taught you how to fight, but those techniques are merely the building blocks. They’re flat...unoriginal. A skilled fighter draws from prior experiences to deliver something unique. You have your own experiences, Aiden, and I’m sure that they are great, but I’ve decided from the jump that if you made it this far, I’d teach you the very same style that’s kept me safe all these years in the field of battle. It’s called the Kite Style, and it may very well save your life.”

  “Kite...Style?”

  “Yes, as the name implies, it’s a style created by me to maximize the use of my abilities in combat.”

  “Okay, so why me then?”

  “For a variety of reasons. And if you want me to be honest, in a way, I’ve been training you to learn this from the start. When Mr. Hoover first reached out to me, he handed me your stats, so I knew where you excelled. I also knew what needed more work. Notes on Von were also made available to me as he’s the one at the root of your mental block. For as long as we’ve been training, I’ve been putting an emphasis on growing your spirit. Fighting here isn’t nearly the burden it was when you first started, and that’s due to your training. You’ve learned to meditate to better focus your energy, and in your time outside of here, you’ve been training your stamina and keeping up with your workouts. It’s actually more accurate to say that you’ve been overcompensating by training your body since your powers are still not up to par. Even without them, you’ve grown stronger...faster...sharper... I’m sure you’ve noticed. The regimen I put you under was intentionally difficult to make you grow, to push you past your limits and form new ones... And you’ve done just that, which is great. Something that always stood out, according to your file is your physical conditioning. Much like now, when your powers were dormant, you did all that you could to improve with the tools you had available. My fighting style relies on explosive bursts of energy, so a decent amount of stamina is necessary. Not only is it required to fight back, but also to dodge and counter. The Kite Style is highly evasive and relies on quick thinking and manipulating your opponent’s movements to create an opening to counter. I’ve noticed that your fighting style is somewhat similar. You tend to use short and mid-ranged attacks to force openings and then capitalize with decisive blows. It’s effective, but there are risks. The techniques in this style will help you minimize those risks while also providing more opportunities to attack your opponent.”

  “Yeah.” I nod. “I’ve seen it firsthand.”

  “And was bested by it numerous times.” Mr. Ferris smirks. “However, even tho
ugh you don’t possess my ability, learning my style and incorporating my tactics into your movements can help refine your combat skills, and eventually come up with your own style. The new technique you used yesterday may also be of use. Your output momentarily increased, and your movements were sharper, although exerting that much energy in a short period of time is far from ideal...catastrophic even. Exhaustion leads to mistakes, and it goes without saying that it’s of paramount importance that you sustain as little damage as possible. Seeing that you weren’t even aware that you were using your powers in that manner, I doubt it can be used effectively in what’s to come. As you are right now, my style is your best bet to win...so let’s get started.”

  And with that, I began my training with Mr. Ferris to learn the Kite Style—a highly intensive style that focuses on evasion and punishing your opponent’s mistakes. As promised, things got harder. Due to being able to manage my energy better, I was able to last longer in our shared domain, and Mr. Ferris took advantage of that. Our sessions were hard and brutal. Day after day I worked on my striking, my defense, and learning how to read my opponent. I knew when we first started that he was going easy on me, but I had no idea that the difference in our ability was so great.

  He told me that the only way that I would get better was through experience, so he was sure to make every move count. Our sparring sessions were entirely one-sided, but over time I’d begun to shift the scale ever so slightly. His movements were beginning to sink in, and my battle sense sharpened even more. Even with all of the improvements that I’d made, Mr. Ferris said that I still wasn’t ready. It was frustrating, demoralizing, even, but there was only so much I could learn in the time that we had. I’d been pushing myself outside of our sessions, working on what I could to better myself. The use of my powers somewhat improved, but when I fought Von in my dreams, I was still powerless, despite my progress. Maybe it was because it was a nightmare, a worst-case scenario derived by my subconscious.

  It didn’t stop me from pressing on though. I knew I was making progress, so I endured for the greater good.

  With all my focus on training, time flew by without me really noticing. Mr. Hoover dropped me from the combat exercise two weeks ago. I hated it, but I came to accept it. The day had finally come where the students would face off, and I wasn’t ready. His call was the right one, as much as it pains me to admit. Maybe I could have pulled through, but it’s more probable that I’d fall on my face and ruin it for everyone.

  ****

  “Hello, Aiden.” I take another step into the room, closing the door behind me. The broad, silver interior of the observation room looks sleek and modern, but at the same time, intimidating. Everything about the room seems concise and to the point. There’s only a couple of chairs, a huge touchscreen table in front of them that extends into the wall behind it, and a multitude of monitors conveniently placed within arm’s reach by being adjustable. I already know that the technology at Crown is cutting edge, but this setup is unlike anything I’ve seen on campus before. “Make yourself comfortable,” Ms. Cosgrove says and smiles from one of the chairs. As quickly as she acknowledged me, she goes back to her work, dragging her fingers across the table and typing away at a different portion.

  “...Hey, did I come too early? Mr. Hoover told me to meet him here. I got his email and—”

  “Everything’s fine. Don’t worry. Why don’t you take a seat? Mr. Hoover is downstairs waiting for the students to get ready. You can sit one spot over from that empty one, that’s Mr. Hoover’s.” She points.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It doesn’t really matter though. Personal preference. We’ve got the best seats in the house, and it’s about to start.” Ms. Cosgrove presses a button and the middle portion of the wall in front of us slowly opens, revealing the battleground to-be. It’s the arena that Summer and Malik had fought in months ago. Ms. Cosgrove presses another button and audio begins to feed in from the ground level. It’s Mr. Hoover, and I can hear him perfectly.

  “Greetings, students. Today is a special day, and one that I’m sure you’ve all been looking forward to...” Mr. Hoover begins his speech, informing the students of what’s to come next for the exercise, but I find myself distracted by all the monitors and information on display. Ms. Cosgrove presses another button on the screen in front of her, and she glances my way.

  “This is such a cool place. I’ve never seen anything like this before here.”

  “I’d hope not.” She laughs. “We’d have a problem if you did.”

  “Yeah.” She continues with her setup, interacting with the different screens outfitted around her. For the sake of privacy, I watch Mr. Hoover until he finishes his speech and disappears from our view. A few moments later, there’s a knock on the door and the handle turns.

  “Aiden.” Mr. Hoover nods in passing and takes a seat in his chair. “How are you, today?”

  “Fine, sir,” I respond.

  “Good. I’m glad you decided to join us today.” Mr. Hoover smiles and then turns his attention to the monitors, adjusting the volume and other parameters laid out on the screen. “Is everything in place?”

  “Yup.” Ms. Cosgrove nods. “I was just waiting on you.”

  “Perfect.” Mr. Hoover presses another button and grins. “You should be able to hear what’s going on from the other students now, Aiden. Be sure to pay attention. You might learn something.”

  “Cool, yeah, I hear them.”

  “Great. Everything seems to be ready, so now we’ll begin,” Mr. Hoover announces to his fellow teacher.

  “Clarissa, you ready?”

  “Yeah.” She nods.

  “Just like we practiced, okay? Leave the offense to me, but don’t forget to apply pressure.” Summer and Clarissa bump fists and turn to face their opponents for the exercise—Tristen and Kaci.

  “Students, are you ready?” Mr. Hoover announces from the intercom. “As discussed, direct your attention to the jumbotron. When the light reaches the end, there will be a buzzer. When that sounds, you may begin.”

  “We aren’t losing to them, Kaci,” Tristen says. “Remember what I taught you.”

  “Yeah...” Kaci sinks into her fighting stance, and Tristen ignites his hands with a pair of roaring flames.

  “Summer’s mine, just watch my back. She’s tricky.”

  As the lights descend down the jumbotron, there’s a quiet tension that fills the arena.

  “Begin!” The buzzer rings and with Mr. Hoover’s decree, there’s no time for second-guessing.

  As soon as the battle starts, Tristen slings a set of fireballs at Summer and Clarissa, but Summer neutralizes them by countering with her ice while dashing forward, cancelling the attack altogether. Summer continues her forward dash while simultaneously firing spires of ice at Tristen while Clarissa stays in the background. “Nice try!” Tristen aligns his palms next to each other and shoots a stream of fire her way. Summer immediately stops skidding her feet across the surface floor. She throws her hand upwards, causing a pillar of ice to manifest from the arch of her movement. Tristen’s flames clash with Summer’s ice, and a stream of steam disperses on both sides of the pillar. Summer crosses her hands in front of her and buries her head while still under the protection of her ice.

  “Hmm...” Mr. Hoover looks at the incoming battle data from Summer’s suit, and I do the same. Along with her vitals and other schematics, there’s the suit’s temperature. The silhouette of her suit begins to slowly turn red on the monitor, indicating the steady rise in heat.

  “His flames have gotten even stronger since the last time we ran the data...” Ms. Cosgrove leans in closer to the monitor focusing on Tristen, her fingers bridged in front of her.

  “They have, but Summer should be fine,” Mr. Hoover answers in the same level-headed manner. “She’s gotten stronger, too.”

  “Rissa!”

  “On it!” Summer dashes to the right of her pillar and fires a barrage of icicles Tristen’s way while Cla
rissa stays to the left. Tristen redirects his hands to intercept Summer’s ice, but as he shoots, his hand juts towards the ground. A set of glowing emerald threads emerge around Tristen’s wrist, revealing their once hidden path towards Clarissa’s fingertips. With a roar, Clarissa whips Tristen towards Summer’s attack, catching him completely off-guard.

  “Not on my watch!” Kaci cuts her hand down through the air, and Clarissa’s thread snaps from the strength of her telepathic force. Tristen immediately launches a stream of fire at Clarissa while still being carried by the inertia of her previous attack.

  Summer’s ice collides against an invisible barrier, and Tristen, having a clear path, rotates his body in the air so his legs connect with the newly materialized surface instead of his shoulder, saving him from taking any damage.

  “He could have used his power to melt Summer’s ice, but he trusted Kaci to protect him while he saw an opening against Clarissa,” Mr. Hoover muses. “Interesting.”

  “It seems like he’s finally learning from his mistakes,” Ms. Cosgrove adds.

  “Indeed, it does.”

  Summer shoots a beam of ice in order to intercept Tristen’s incoming flame, but her attack gets nullified before it can cover too much ground—Kaci’s doing. “Crap! Clarissa, get out of the way!” Before she can move, Tristen’s fire connects with Clarissa. It’s a direct hit. A second fireball zooms her way, but Summer’s able to stop it.

  “Clarissa, are you okay?” I hear Summer ask over her comms. I glance at Clarissa’s vitals...there was a momentary spike, but things seem to be fine at the moment. Once I’m able to get a decent visual on her, it’s evident that she was able to nullify some of the damage by using her threads as a buffer.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Stick to the plan. It’s working. I can take it. I’m almost ready.”