Powerful: A Powerless Story
Powerful: Chapter 12

I’ve been hammering steel since I saw her.

I don’t think I’ve stopped for longer than it took to choke down some food. Channeling every emotion into a physical blow is the only thing keeping me sane these past twenty-four hours.

Because I failed Hera. Damned her to death. And the guilt of that is threatening to swallow me whole.

I should have gone to her first, should never have been so distracted by Adena. But the pull of her power was so familiar, so comforting, that I couldn’t help but follow the feel of it. The presence of her is hypnotizing. So much so that I missed my chance to save Hera.

Guilt has my hammer slamming into the steel, over and over. The rhythmic sound lulls me into a state of detachment, numbing any notion of feeling.

The metal glows red.

I couldn’t save her.

My hammer hits hard.

She will die in these Trials.

A wave of heat hits my face.

I failed—

Hair stands on the back of my neck at the familiar feel of her.

I straighten, dropping my tools to the ground as the power grows with each passing second. My eyes drift to the door, feeling each step she takes towards it.

When she knocks, I almost laugh.

Whipping open the door, I’m met with wide eyes and a timid smile. She gives me about three seconds to stare before her arms are around me, squeezing tighter than I imagined she’d be able.

After a moment, my hands replace her back, holding her tightly against my chest. ‘You’re here.’

Her voice is muffled. ‘Only because you are.’

I smile at her words. ‘You know you can just walk through the door, right?’

‘I didn’t want to scare you.’

‘I can sense you, hun.’ I breathe in the sweet scent of her hair. ‘I always know when you’re near.’

‘Right.’ I feel her shrug. ‘I’m still getting used to that.’

‘And I’m still getting used to you knowing that.’

She pulls away, looking up at me with those big eyes. ‘But there is still a lot more I need to know.’

‘Oh, is that right?’

‘It is.’ She grins mischievously. ‘And you still owe me a night in the Fort, remember?’

‘I don’t recall ever having an urge to do that.’

She huffs, fitting her hand into mine before dragging me out of the door. ‘We had a deal, Mak!’

‘A deal implies that this is mutually beneficial.’

‘Oh, you’re so dramatic,’ she teases unsympathetically.

We weave down the dark streets, hand in hand. She’s nestled close to my side, seemingly blissfully unaware of her surroundings when she’s in my presence. I guide us through the shadows, allowing her the luxury of looking anywhere but in front of her.

After I’ve steered her by the shoulders for the second time, she looks up suddenly to say, ‘Thank you. For leaving last night.’

I nod slightly at the reminder of what I didn’t do. Noticing this, she adds, ‘Are you all right?’

I consider this for a long moment. ‘I never really was.’

‘I’m sorry you couldn’t save her,’ she whispers. ‘But you did everything you could.’

‘Not everything.’

She frowns up at me. ‘The ball is happening as we speak, and after that, Hera will be guarded until the Trial. Getting caught wasn’t going to help anyone.’

I shrug. ‘It would certainly speed up the inevitable.’

‘You won’t get caught,’ she huffs. ‘There are very few people who know what you are and, lucky for you, I’m fabulous at keeping secrets.’

Tapping a finger against her full lips, she adds, ‘And what makes you so sure Hera can’t survive these Trials? She’s a Veil, after all.’ Adena offers me a sympathetic smile. ‘She might not need to be saved.’

I nod numbly, remembering all the years Hera has survived in the slums. Maybe I have underestimated her. And maybe that is exactly what she will tell me on the other side of these Trials.

‘I hope you’re right,’ I manage gruffly.

Silence stretches between us until she can no longer handle the absence of conversation. ‘This is probably not the time to ask – actually, it definitely isn’t – but how did the Imperial uniform do? Any suspicion from the other guards?’

I shake my head. ‘They barely even glanced at me. After walking for nearly an hour and a half to get to the castle, I continued right through the entrance closest to the Bowl. As if I had just come in from a rotation.’

I can see the smile she’s attempting to hide. ‘Well, I’m glad my work was convincing.’

‘Yeah, it was perfect.’ I sigh. ‘And all for nothing. I’m sorry I wasted your time.’

‘I was with you.’ She smiles softly. ‘How could that have been a waste of time?’

I don’t have a chance to answer before she pulls me round a corner, leading us towards a dead end. ‘Here we are!’ she exclaims far too enthusiastically at the sight of a dark alley. ‘Home sweet home!’

Stepping closer, I catch sight of a miscellaneous mound of items, all piled together to create a barrier against the wall. It’s nearly three feet tall and sitting atop several rugs and ragged blankets. ‘This,’ I say slowly, ‘is where you sleep?’

‘Yep! This is Pae’s side.’ She gestures to the left side of a worn rug. ‘Which obviously makes this half my side.’ After phasing through the barrier of trash, she then plops down onto her designated area of the rug. ‘This spot is reserved for Pae, but I’ll make an exception tonight.’

‘Oh, lucky me,’ I mutter, slowly beginning to muster the strength to sit down on the filthy rug. ‘Plagues, this place is a shithole.’

‘Hey!’ The back of her hand meets my stomach. ‘It’s home.’

‘Well, your home is a shithole.’

She gives me a pointed look. ‘You don’t have to be rude.’

‘Have you met me?’ I ask this very genuinely.

‘I have. And I think you’re kinder than you let on.’ If her answer wasn’t equally as genuine, I might have laughed.

‘And what makes you think that?’

She looks suddenly timid, slightly unsure. ‘You’re the only one who wanted to buy my blue shirt.’

My confession comes racing back to me, as though it was much longer than a handful of hours ago that I spewed it. I had been so focused on Hera’s fate that the hushed spilling of my heart has yet to cross my mind. But now that it has, I’m flustered at the sight of her. At the reminder of every word I uttered.

‘Do you still want to?’ she asks quietly.

I nod slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. ‘Only if you will let me tell you something in exchange for my business.’

‘Deal,’ she breathes, fighting a smile.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out a single shilling to offer her. She stares at it. ‘I was selling it for three.’

‘Yeah,’ I draw out the word, ‘and how was that working out for you?’

She crosses her arms. ‘Three.’

‘I didn’t realize you were in any position to negotiate.’

‘Two,’ she amends. ‘And a smile.’

I visibly weigh the offer, tilting my head back and forth. ‘That’s a bit steep, honey.’

She sighs. ‘Just the smile, then.’

‘That was the steep part I was referring to.’

Her words are gentle, as though she’s speaking to a spooked animal. And, in a way, that’s a fair comparison. ‘Will you tell me? About you? About why you won’t smile for me?’

‘It’s not personal, Dena.’ I shift to lean against the wall, draping my arms over bent knees. ‘It’s just something I stopped doing the day Hera and I ran away from home.’

She raises her eyebrows in silent encouragement to continue, to which I blow out a breath of annoyance. ‘Fine, but I’m getting that damn shirt for free, then.’ I take a pause, collecting my thoughts before continuing, ‘I grew up on the other side of the slums. My parents were – well, are – the very definition of poor Mundanes. They could barely feed themselves, let alone any children. Long story short and private details later, they unexpectedly had me.

‘It wasn’t much of a childhood, really.’ I say this with a shrug, as if it had little impact on who I turned into. ‘They didn’t want to have a kid and never intended on feeding another mouth. But there I was, begrudgingly forcing them into parenthood.’

She listens intently, head tilted, eyes wide, elbows on her knees and face in her palms. It’s endearing at least. Adorable at most.

‘Like all Elite toddlers, I couldn’t control my abilities, but seeing that my mother was a Sight and my father a Bluff, they figured I was simply another Mundane to litter the slums.’ I sigh. ‘Well, until I got old enough to draw on the more physical powers of those in my vicinity.

‘I almost lit our shack of a home on fire when I was five. This led my parents to believe that I was a late bloomer, but a Burner, nonetheless. That is, until I began crawling up the walls within the same hour.’

I glance over at her, replaceing a dramatic look of awe on her face. If it were anyone else, I might have thought they were mocking me. But it’s Adena, and this look is mild compared to the one she gives me at the sight of sticky buns.

‘What then?’ she urges, waving a hand encouragingly.

‘Then they started to figure out what I was.’ My voice is dull, masking the bitterness biting each word. ‘They didn’t know what to do with me. Kept me locked inside our little shack. Hera was the first person I remember seeing other than my parents. She showed up on our doorstep when I was seven, and we quickly became inseparable, seeing that we had no one else.’

I hadn’t noticed my thumb was trailing the length of that scar cutting my lips until I catch her gaze tracing the movement. ‘As I got older, I began to understand why it was that I wasn’t allowed out. I was still learning to control my abilities, and being a Wielder means certain death. I was – I am – a threat to the king because of a power I didn’t ask for. My parents knew this, and it was clear that I was unwanted. Especially by my father.’

I glance up at Adena, hoping for a reason to end this conversation, though I replace nothing but concern in her hazel gaze. Nothing but gentleness guiding her hand towards my knee, seeping comfort from every splayed finger.

‘He thought I was useless – told me as much.’ Swallowing, I attempt not to stumble through each word in my haste to get them out of my mouth. ‘I couldn’t work at the shop with him, couldn’t leave the house without fear of being found out. I was an expense. A nuisance. A disappointment.’

‘You’re not,’ Adena breathes, shaking her head firmly.

‘Oh, I was.’ I nod, my eyes drifting up to the sky above us. ‘I just wasn’t fortunate enough to be loved despite it.’

When my eyes replace hers, I regret having said anything at all. It’s as though every word has dulled the sparkle in her eyes, smothered her smile into a dreariness undeserving of her lips. I never imagined she could look so grim. And I hate that I’m the cause of it.

But knowing she won’t allow me to stop now, I continue with a deep breath. ‘I had Hera. My parents tolerated her more than they did me, seeing that she earned money by performing street magic as a Veil, but things only grew worse as we got older. Father started drinking more heavily, and Mother did nothing to stop it. And that is when I began learning how to defend myself.’

I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head at the flood of memories beginning to surface. ‘He would come home late from the shop, occasionally bringing back the weapons he’d made that day. He would yell; Mother would hide. I took the brunt of it, shielded both Hera and my mother when it came to it. It was me he was angry with. Me who was useless to him.’

A hand is now covering her mouth, hiding a half of her shocked face. ‘Is that why you ran away?’

‘Yes and no. I was fourteen when my shitty life officially fell apart.’ She scoots towards me, her hand still sympathetically squeezing my knee. ‘The night it happened was the same as usual. Father came home drunk, ready to pick a fight. He’d walked in on Hera and I laughing about something one of us had said. That’s when I saw the flash of a sword in his hand. I’d seen him with weapons before, but nothing so sharp, so lethal.

‘I tucked Hera behind me, as I usually did, and looked around for a mother who was never there. But it wasn’t the sword that scared me the most, but Father’s words.’ I swallow. ‘I’ll never forget what he said to me that night. He said I would be more use to him if they’d just handed me over to the king. If they had sold me out instead of putting up with me for so many years. And then…’ I blink, feeling emotion beginning to build there. Hating it, I push on, my voice stern. ‘And then he threatened to do just that. Said he’d sell me to the king for the shillings he deserved, and that he should have done it years ago.’

‘Mak…’ Adena’s voice is barely a whisper, barely audible over my shaky breaths.

‘I didn’t deserve to smile. That is what he told me.’ My voice grows quieter with each word slipping from my past and haunting my present. ‘I don’t remember the sword swinging towards me, only his voice when he promised to wipe that smile from my face.’

My thumb replaces the scar cutting my lips and shakily traces it. ‘It was after he cut me that Hera and I ran. I… I didn’t know what he would do to her, and I couldn’t wait around to see if he would make good on his promise to sell me to the king.’

I can’t look at her, not after what I’ve said. ‘Hera and I survived in the slums for several years before we were able to afford a real roof over our heads.’ Still avoiding her sorrowful stare, I add, ‘I forced myself to control the overwhelming power. Learned to hide in plain sight. And then I become a blacksmith, just to spite my father. So, something good came out of it.’

My eyes squeeze shut when her fingers graze my chin.

She turns my face towards her despite my resistance. Her palm is soft against my cheek, foreign in its comfort. But when her thumb brushes my scar, I finally meet her gaze.

‘He stole your smile,’ she whispers, tears clinging to dark lashes. ‘No wonder you didn’t have one to give me.’

Regret rams into me once again, her words a reminder of every missed opportunity to make her smile with one of my own. ‘I’ll replace one,’ I murmur. ‘Steal it back if I must. For you.’

Her lips lift, eyes shining with tears. ‘And I’ll cherish it.’

Her thumb is warm against my skin as it continues to trace the scar, creating new memories to associate with it. After a long stretch of silence, she allows herself a quiet question. ‘Where are they now? Your parents?’

I shrug slightly as though I don’t think of it daily. ‘I’m not sure. Probably in that same house on the opposite side of the slums. But I’ve hidden from them for years, masking myself in the masses. And I’m not dead yet, so I figured Father never made it to the king.’ I scoff. ‘They must be satisfied enough with my absence.’

She nods slowly, taking in my words before making a proclamation of her own. ‘You are far from useless. You are strong and clever and can really pull off an Imperial uniform. In the best way possible.’ Her eyes are full of fire even with her thumb still pressed against my lips. ‘And no one can take away your smile. It’s yours to give, Mak.’

I grab her wrist, gently pulling it down enough for me to speak. ‘Makoto.’

Her lashes flutter. ‘W-What?’

‘Makoto,’ I mutter. She squeaks when I tug her towards me with the wrist I’m still holding and a hand behind her knee. ‘My name is Makoto Khitan.’ Her eyes widen, closer to mine then they ever have been. ‘Now you can properly scold me.’

I hear her swallow. ‘And what else should I know about you, Makoto?’

Tilting my head in a sort of shrug, I say, ‘This may come as a shock to you, but I can be a bit… blunt at times.’

She smiles encouragingly. ‘Self-awareness is the first step to change.’

‘Oh, I’m not planning on changing. I was just ensuring that you knew this was a recurring thing. Now, what else?’ I sigh. ‘I’ve never been able to skip properly, not sure why that is or why I’m embarrassed about that fact. Oh, I’m not a fan of spoons, only forks. I enjoy radishes more than the average person. And I’ve never been much good with a bow.’

I watch her reactions to my words – how they start in her eyes before spreading to the rest of her face. ‘Go on. I know there’s more.’

‘Sorry, hun. Your turn.’ My eyes flick between hers. ‘I’m going to need some details in return.’

She smiles, effortlessly dazzling. ‘Oh, well, that might take a while.’

‘You really think I was going to get any sleep down here?’ I raise my eyebrows. ‘No, I have every intention of talking about you till morning.’

And then I take a slow breath, allowing myself something that I haven’t had any desire to do before meeting her.

And, terrifyingly, it comes easily.

I smile.