Turbulent Truths

Nothing was ever simple. Not for me. Maybe it was some extra quirk in my DNA, something to make me different from everyone else. My Air Talent, as Pyron had frequently told me, was your run of the mill, everyday Talent. His Fire Talent was unique. A rarity he frequently boasted.

Human evolution, driven by old-world pollutants created additional chromosomes that allowed mankind to not only touch but manipulate the elements. Mother Nature's goodwill gesture allowed some humans a chance to adapt and survive.

However, Mother Nature wasn't to blame for my constant muck ups. That was a skill all my own.

It was supposed to be a simple task. Clean the hardened dust on the mills at the old wind farm. Dust storms were a common occurrence, that was expected. What I didn't expect was for the farm to be entirely overtaken by nature in the year it's been left alone. Grass reached high towards the sky. My trudge through the thicket of weeds left a trail of burrs up my legs. Patches of decayed dandelions and wildflowers grew wild and unchecked. The Earth Talents would have to get their hands dirty to get this place up and running again. I plucked a nearby dandelion. The head was a cloud full of seeds ready for a wisp of wind to release it.

In that moment, I felt nostalgic for my childhood days when I didn't have cares or worries. A steady release of air flowed out, deep from my lungs, in one long sigh. Seeds from dozens of dandelions danced through the air, releasing my worries into hopeful wishes.

The center mills were simple enough to clean. My focus was on the hub just behind the blades. With zeroed in focus and a twist of my fingers, I sent jolts of air through the motor, clearing any debris from within. A piercing shriek caught my attention as it and a bird faded into the distance. My heart crumpled at the fallen twigs and twine laid in heaps of yolk and broken shells on the ground. The replay quick in my mind.

The flick of my hand.

The gust of wind.

The sailing screech of the bird.

The breakage of the nest and my heart.

There wasn’t time to wallow in my grief. Mama bird came back fast with vengeance, diving straight for my head.

"I'm sorry," I yelled. My arms flailed around my face for protection. The call of my power could have sent the bird back into the sky with a burst of wind. I could only do what was right. I crouched to the ground and covered myself the best I could with my arms. The sting of each peck, the pierced bits of my flesh was nothing compared to the regret I felt within. My good intentions always seemed to blow up in my face.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't know," I cried, but my pleas made no difference.

A hiss.

The roar of a engulfed flame.

A final, agonizing screech.

The flambèed shape of the bird plopped to the ground with a thud.

I suppressed a gurgle of nausea. The bird didn't deserve that. No one did.

"Better to put it out of its misery," Pyron's reached down and hauled me up without asking. The part of my arm he gripped tinged with an ache that was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him. I tried to hide my annoyance. His visits were never helpful or a joyful experience.

"I knew you'd mess up. That you'd need me to bail you out…again," his arrogant tone didn't hold its typical hint of mockery. To him, my messing up was a matter of fact.

"I didn't ask for your help," I rubbed my arms, inspecting the damage. A little blood, several gashes, and a few scrapes. I would heal. The nest and the bird would not.

In the year since my talent emerged, I still hadn't quite grasped control of it. Everyone knew I was a walking vortex of chaos whenever I used my Air Talent. Unlike Pyron, they were kind enough not to point it out.

"And yet you always need it. You shouldn't have come out here alone." He scolded me –treating me like a child– as if I wasn't capable. The memory of carrying pollen on a gentle breeze from one flower to another flashed in my mind. One tiny sneeze sent a gale of pollen through the air, covering my Base Mates and myself in a sticky, sneeze-inducing mess.

"I thought I could handle it," I said defensively. I needed to practice controlling my talent without an audience filled with critical stares laced with bouts of pity. "I was just trying to be useful," I murmured, wrapping my arms around myself.

"You try too hard," his words cut deeper than the bird's beak.

My dad would say I wasn't trying hard enough. "Make yourself useful," my dad's words rang in my head. I try too hard or I don't try enough. One day I wish for things I do to be enough.

"I didn't ask you for your help. I didn't ask you to come out here and I certainly didn't ask for your opinion!" I finally snapped. I was sick of hearing his unsolicited advice.

"Well... I have to help you. My opinions, however, I give willingly. For instance, I'm glad you're starting to stick up for yourself." Pyron tilted his head with approval at my outburst. Before I could ask why, he said, "I'm your mentor." My jaw dropped with the realization that he was supposed to guide, provide advice, and support me. He never hesitated to rub my failures in my face and remind me that I was just a typical Air Talent.

"For how long?" I finally managed to ask. He made a slight grimace with the words, "Since you arrived," softly spoken. I've been living and working here for a year. I scoffed at his words in disbelief. If his version of being a mentor is with criticism and snarky remarks, I'd rather do without.

"What changed?" I asked, feeling curious. He came out here. He finally told me the truth.

"It's just…I don’t… you're like the kid sister I never wanted and somehow got stuck being responsible for," Pryon half laughed while he struggled to come up with an answer. He shrugged his shoulders as if that was enough of an explanation.

A soft breeze tickled my nose with the dampness of the earth. I looked towards the sky as I inhaled a silvery scent. "Rain is coming. We should head back to base." I told him. The conversation about his sudden desire to embrace his role of mentor was far from over.

"What? It's a bright blue day. Blue days are no rain days." He looked at me incredulously. Could he not smell the sweet freshness in the air? I breathed deeply for a better taste. The sweetness had a subtle bitter tang.

"We need to go!" I spoke urgently. I grabbed his hand before he could protest and ran. The twenty minute walk back to base took ten with my wind gently pushing us forward.

"April, calm down! There's not a cloud in sight," he dropped to his knees, breathing heavily. He couldn't see behind him. The once clear blue sky had gathered a crowd of dark clouds in the skyline. Mankind wasn't the only entity to get a power boost from Mother Nature.

"Look," I pointed behind him as a rumbling sound of drums roared over us. The silent curse that fell from his mouth was deafening before he hustled the remaining distance back to base.

In minutes, Pyron had our Base Mates locking down the base for the impending storm. It was the first storm of the season. We were not prepared. Fortunately, this wasn’t the first time we had to secure the base at a moment's notice. Animals were secured and sheltered. The energy cores produced by the wind farm were safe underground. Almost everyone was accounted for.

"There are five Earth Talents on the other side of the lake. We won't be able to reach them in time," Pyron's eyes were on the horizon. Wind whipped through the air. Dust pelted us like tiny bullets.

"They’ll be fine," he said, but he sounded unconvinced. In the chaos of getting ready for the storm, I hadn't seen my best friend, Geo. He was the reason I came to work here.

"Where's Geo?" I asked frantically. I spun in every direction. My heart sank with the reality that he was across the lake.

The charge of the storm crawled up my skin. I could feel it palpitating. The trail rippled all around me, humming with energy. The ripples were a never ending band of curls and coils. Stretched long and far. Reaching high into the clouds.

"He'll be fine. We need to take shelter," Pyron pulled me in the direction of the pavilion. I kept stumbling over my feet. I couldn't keep my eyes off the sky. The bands began to bend and pull towards the lake. I could feel it pulsating out of control. I tore off toward the lake. Pyron shouting behind me.

Warm air rose up from the ground. Downdrafts of cool air raced from the clouds. Warm and cool air swirled, grew, and stretched until it hovered over the water. The funnel wasn't much at first. Thin, lanky with the base leaning towards the right. The bands of energy fed directly into the funnel, growing in size. Lightning crackled, sending a tickling chill of energy down my spine.

My right hand reached out and touched the bands nearest to me. I tugged, pulling hard to smooth them out. They bounced back tighter, curling in on itself. The rain beat down harder, making it impossible to see. I tried again. This time, I pulled gently and caressed the kinetic bands. I rolled them between my hands into smooth, loose squiggles. The rain stopped, revealing a fully formed tornado. The base of it moved with a staggering intensity, coming right for me. I threw my hands into the air, reaching for the bands that fed into the tornado. Carefully smoothing and tugging as I went. Pull too hard the energy feedback would worsen. Energy cannot be created or destroyed, but it could be manipulated.

I worked soothing layer after layer of the tightly coiled bands until it was no more than a wisp leading up into the sky. There was nothing left to smooth.

The tornado was gone.

"What in the actual…" Pyron's voice trailed off. I spun around to see him and our Base Mates staring at me with their mouths dropped in wonder.

What had I just done?

I didn't even know.

How did I manage to not have my meddling backfire? It felt natural. Like smoothing the lines were the simplest thing in the world.

I shouldn't have been able to manipulate the storm.

After all, I was just a regular Air Talent.

Wasn't I?