The Key of Forgotten Stars

When Harum awoke, she felt an overwhelming sense of disorientation. The room was sterile, its walls white and gleaming, echoing a hospital-like quality. Her hands were weak as she reached up to her face, feeling something cold and uncomfortable pressing down on her skin. She tugged at it, struggling to remove the oxygen mask, but her body was unresponsive. It felt heavy. When she finally managed to peel it off, the weight lifted from her face, and she took in a deep breath, relishing the sensation of real air. Her arms trembled as she sat up, and as her eyes scanned the unfamiliar room, she saw the portrait on the wall.

It was of a tan woman with wavy hair, dressed in a flowing green dress, her smile subtle yet mysterious. There was something striking about her nose, short and pointed with precision. Harum wished her own nose had such a shape. The paintings on the walls made the room feel less clinical, more like a home, yet there was a hint of something strange in the air, something Harum couldn't yet understand.

She looked down at her hands, now noticing the needle in her arm and the IV tube that snaked across her skin. How did I get here? she thought, a knot of panic starting to rise in her chest. Her head was clouded, and she couldn’t remember how she ended up in this room, let alone why she was hooked up to an IV.

The door clicked open, and Harum turned her head toward it. Kristi, her cousin, stepped into the room, her expression a mix of relief and worry. Behind her walked a tall woman with short black hair and deep brown eyes. She reminded Harum of her mother. She wore a lab coat and carried a small, black deli bag.

“You’re awake!” Kristi exclaimed, rushing to Harum’s bedside. Her lips were pressed tightly together, a sign that she was anxious.

“Yeah, but where am I? Who’s that?” Harum whispered, though her voice barely carried. Her throat felt raw, strained.

The woman in the lab coat smiled warmly, but her eyes held a quiet seriousness. "I am Taman, the family doctor," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "You’re in my home. I’m also your mother’s sister."

Harum blinked, trying to process the information. “I only have one aunt on my mother’s side. Kristi’s mom, Tante Kemala,” she responded, confusion etching her features.

Taman nodded. “Farah and Kemala are half-sisters. We have different mothers.”

Harum's confusion deepened. 

"But I didn’t know we had a family doctor."

Taman chuckled softly, though there was an edge to her amusement. "Farah and I don’t have the best relationship, and you never seemed to need special care. Not like Kristi, anyway."

Harum felt a pang of resentment. She hated being out of the loop, feeling excluded from family matters.

“I brought you some yogurt,” Taman said, her cheerful tone cutting through Harum’s thoughts. She opened the deli bag and pulled out a container of Greek yogurt, setting it on the bedside table. "It’s high in protein and vitamins, good for energy."

Harum hated Greek yogurt. It was so bland. No sugar, no special flavors, just plain. But she still accepted, her hands still trembling. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the sudden arrival of this stranger, this supposed aunt she’d never known about.

“Thanks,” she said, but the gratitude felt hollow.

“So, you know what happened to you, right?” Taman asked, her voice dropping slightly.

Harum paused, trying to collect her thoughts. “Sort of,” she replied. “Kristi and I were walking through the park, and I asked her to explain her super sight to me.”

Kristi’s special ability allowed her to enhance her vision to extraordinary levels, but it came with a cost, a headache that could turn into a migraine if overused.

“I thought if I understood how she used her ability, I might be able to unlock my own,” Harum continued, her voice faint. “But it didn’t work out like I expected.”

Taman’s expression shifted, and a frown tugged at her lips. “Harum, as the family doctor, my job is to help manage our family’s abilities, and keep them in check for the greater good. I know more about the family’s powers than anyone.”

Harum’s interest piqued. “You do?”

Taman nodded, walking over to a sleek white machine in the corner of the room. “This is an x-ray machine I invented myself.”

Harum’s eyes widened. “You invented an x-ray machine?”

“Not just any x-ray machine,” Taman clarified. “This one can scan for abilities. It can pinpoint where a person’s power lies within their body.”

“That’s amazing,” Harum breathed. “But… why didn’t I know about this?”

“Your mother was always protective, Harum,” Taman said, her voice soft. “She never trusted me. And you—well, I thought you just didn’t have any special abilities. After all, when you were born, there was nothing unusual about your scans.” She pulled out a phone and showed Harum a picture of a full-body x-ray. “Take a look.”

Harum stared at the image. The skeleton was a pale white, but there were glaring differences in the eyes. They were glowing a soft purple, a detail that caught Harum’s attention.

“Why are the eyes different?” she asked, pointing to them.

Taman smiled faintly. “That’s Kristi’s x-ray. Her ability is rooted in her eyes. They glow purple when she activates her power.”

Harum was stunned. “That’s so cool.”

Taman’s face grew serious again. “But you—Harum—there’s nothing. Not even a hint of anything abnormal in your body. No glowing eyes. No telltale signs of a gift. You were, as far as I could tell, completely normal.”

Harum felt a deep sense of loss, an ache in her chest. “You mean, I don’t have a special ability?”

“Exactly.” Taman’s voice was gentle, but there was no mistaking the finality in it. “That’s why you collapsed. You tried to force something that wasn’t there.”

Harum’s mind raced, trying to make sense of the truth that Taman had just laid out. “But… I thought, maybe if I tried hard enough, if I focused my energy like Kristi does, I could unlock something. I wanted to be like her.”

Taman’s expression softened with understanding. “I know. But it doesn’t work that way, Harum. You can’t force an ability into existence.”

Harum felt the weight of the words settle over her. All her life, she had been chasing a dream, trying to be something she wasn’t. But now she understood. It wasn’t meant to be.

That night, after leaving Taman’s house, Harum found herself standing in front of her mother’s dresser. She had always been curious about the contents of the drawer where her mother kept important papers. Harum had never had permission to look through it, but tonight, she needed answers.

Using the lockpicking skills she had picked up over the years, she slid open the drawer and began sorting through the color-coded folders. There was nothing on her mother’s side of the family, no mention of Taman or any other relatives. But as she reached for the back folder, the entire drawer came loose, and Harum’s heart skipped a beat. She pulled it out, her fingers trembling, and noticed the back was strangely smooth, not wooden like the rest of the dresser.

Pressing on it, she found a small latch and carefully pried it open. Inside was a black folder, its edges soft and worn. She opened it, her heart racing. There, at the bottom, was a photograph of the woman from the portrait—Taman’s ancestor. Harum turned the photo over, and her breath caught in her throat as she read the inscription written in purple ink:

The safe is in the room with the x-ray, the combination is 04-68-21.

Harum’s mind spun. She knew what she had to do. 

Harum stood frozen in front of the dresser, the black folder heavy in her hands. The words on the back of the photograph swam in her mind like a secret she wasn’t sure she was ready to uncover. She tucked the photo into the folder and closed the drawer, her mind racing as she tried to piece together what she had just learned. The mention of a safe and an x-ray. The combination. The feeling of something important being just out of reach but within her grasp.

She knew she couldn’t ignore it. She had to know what was hidden, even if it meant confronting the truths her mother had buried so deep.

The next day, Harum returned to Taman’s house. She had no plan other than to ask more questions, but she couldn’t shake the nagging pull of the mystery, as if the answers she needed were somehow intertwined with her own power.

Taman greeted her at the door, looking slightly surprised but welcoming. “Harum. What brings you back?”

“I need to ask you something,” Harum said, her voice more firm than she felt. “About that machine of yours. The x-ray one.”

Taman raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”

“I—” Harum hesitated, unsure how to phrase what had been burning in her mind all night. “That big portrait, the one on the wall.” She looked up, meeting Taman’s gaze. “Who is that woman? Why does she look like you? And what does it have to do with my mother?”

Taman’s eyes softened, a fleeting glimpse of something unreadable crossing her face. She sighed and stepped aside, gesturing for Harum to enter. 

“This is not something I usually share, Harum. But I suppose it’s time you knew.”

As they walked into the small study room, Taman motioned for Harum to sit. She closed the door behind them and pulled a drawer open, revealing a stack of papers, each yellowed with age. She sifted through them until she found a large, old photograph. It was of a woman identical to the portrait on the wall. She had wavy hair and the same short, pointed nose. But this picture was not posed. It captured the woman laughing, her eyes bright and full of life.

“This is my great-grandmother,” Taman said, her voice quieter now. “Her name was Nyala. She was one of the first in our family to develop an ability, though it wasn’t exactly the same as Kristi’s or even yours. She had the gift of foresight. She could see things before they happened.”

Harum leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “You mean, like visions?”

“Exactly,” Taman replied, her voice taking on a faraway quality. “But it wasn’t always clear or helpful. Sometimes, she saw things that were too vague to understand until it was too late. That’s why our family stopped talking about our gifts. It was easier to pretend we didn’t have them.”

Harum frowned, still confused, she asked “So, what does this have to do with my mother? Why hasn’t she told me about any of this?”

Taman sighed deeply, rubbing her temples.

 “Your mother was different. She was scared. When she realized she had a gift of her own, she tried to suppress it. She married someone without powers, someone who didn’t know anything about our family’s history. She didn’t want you to feel burdened by what we are.”

Harum’s heart sank as she absorbed the implications of Taman’s words. Her mother had never been vocal about their family’s secrets, and now, it seemed, that was because she feared the power Harum might inherit.

“And you,” Harum said, her voice trembling, “You have some sort of ability?”

Taman nodded slowly, looking at Harum with a mixture of understanding and something darker. 

“I can see potential. I can sense when something has the potential to grow into a powerful ability, but that’s not all. I can also manipulate it.”

“Manipulate it?” Harum echoed, confused. “Like, you can make people’s abilities stronger?”

“Not exactly,” Taman said, her eyes narrowing. “I can take my abilities away. Or alter them.”

Harum’s breath caught in her throat. 

“You can take them away?”

Taman didn’t immediately answer, but the weight of her words hung in the air. 

“The safe I mentioned to you yesterday,” Taman finally said, her voice steady. “It holds something important. A device that can track and contain our powers. It was built by your great-grandmother.”

The realization struck Harum like thunder. “So that’s why she created it?”

Taman nodded. “She believed that if any of us were in danger of losing control or if our powers became too dangerous, the device could stop it. It’s been hidden for years, passed down through our family. Only a select few have ever known about it.”

Harum swallowed hard. She couldn’t fathom what this meant for her. Her entire life, she had been desperate to find a place for herself, to unlock some part of her family’s legacy. But now, it seemed as though her family had been hiding the very thing she sought: not just her mother’s secrets, but the truth about her own identity.

She stood, her hands shaking. “Where is the safe?”

Taman’s eyes narrowed, a faint smile tugging at her lips. 

“It’s in the room where the x-ray machine is. The combination you saw is correct.”

“04-68-21,” Harum whispered, recalling the numbers from the photo.

Taman nodded. “But be warned, Harum. Once you open that safe, there’s no turning back. What’s inside might change everything you thought you knew about yourself and your family.”

Harum felt her pulse quicken. She had no choice now. The truth had already been set in motion. She had to face it, whatever it was.

With a mixture of resolve and fear, Harum followed Taman to the x-ray room. The walls were lined with shelves full of books and scientific equipment, and in the center stood the machine, sleek and imposing. On the far side of the room, nestled in the corner, was a small, unassuming metal box. The safe.

Her heart raced as she approached it, fingers brushing against the cold steel. She paused, taking a deep breath before she dialed in the combination: 04-68-21.

There was a soft click, and the safe door swung open. Inside, resting on a velvet cushion, was a small, intricate device, its edges adorned with strange symbols and markings. Harum’s hands shook as she reached for it.

As soon as her fingers made contact with the device, a low hum filled the room. The lights flickered briefly, and Harum felt an odd warmth surge through her body, as though the device was drawing something from her. Her vision blurred, and for the first time in her life, she felt something—something deep inside her, awakening.

“Harum,” Taman’s voice echoed through the haze, but it sounded distant. “You’ve just unlocked it. Your true potential. Don’t fight it.”

The device pulsed in Harum’s hand, and suddenly, everything became clear. Her mother’s fears, her hidden abilities, her own place in this tangled web of secrets. It wasn’t just about inheriting an ability. It was about accepting who she truly was, power and all.

As the light in the room flickered again, Harum closed her eyes, her mind clear for the first time in years. She had finally found her place.