The Blazing Rebellion

Chapter 66

John POV

John gave a small shout as his back slammed into the grass once again. He winced and sat up, glaring at the white-haired man standing a few feet away. Can't he see that this isn't working?

After Spectre's attack, John's ability had yet to return. He'd given it a week, but when nothing had happened, he'd decided there was only one way forward; he would have to talk to his uncle. Only Alban would know if there really was an answer, if his ability was truly gone. He needed someone else with Aura Manipulation.

When he'd visited his uncle to ask, however, this wasn't what he'd expected. Alban had gone straight to combat. His first thought was that the feeling of danger in a fight could wake John's ability. They'd been fighting for several minutes now, though, and all John felt was annoyed and sore. His ability was still hidden wherever the disabler had pushed it.

"Are you sure you're putting an effort into this?" John's uncle asked, walking over to him and frowning. John pushed himself to his feet with a huff. Of course I am! As much as I hate this ability, something needs to be done. He glanced over at Sera, who stood a few feet away. She, too, was frowning. I need to at least have some way to protect her. Plus, if they were right and there was a way through the disabler with his ability, he wanted to help her, too.

Spectre had lied to her when they told her she could have her full ability back. She had about as much as him; it had worn off quickly. With Spectre's betrayal, too, there was no way for her to get another dosage to help with her ability. She was just as stuck as he was.

"Can't you just... I don't know, try to sense my ability?" He demanded, crossing his arms. "You have Aura Manipulation, too. Use your passive on me."

He glared at his uncle, waiting for the other man to do something. Alban finally sighed, his amber eyes fading as he deactivated his ability. "I truly thought combat would work. Fine, we'll use your way."

John let out a deep breath. Everyone always seemed to think the same thing, that combat was the answer. He couldn't understand why they didn't accept un-violent methods. Fighting didn't solve everything. It really didn't solve everything. He knew that better than most.

Alban took a step towards him, reaching out a hand. John pulled his arm away immediately, causing his uncle to frown; he forced himself to offer it back. Alban closed his eyes and put a hand on John's shoulder. John hated the physical contact; it felt all wrong with his uncle. In fact, it felt wrong when most people touched him; he'd only ever wanted to hold hands or hug Sera. She was different. There was something about her that made him feel safe like no one else did. Of course, his dad was alright, but at the moment... he couldn't even talk to William.

The thought made his heart sink, suddenly cold and empty. He'd had a feeling of being stuck so many times before, but now it came back with full force: Is there really no way forward?

"Well? Do you sense anything?" Sera asked, pulling him away from the negative thoughts. He turned to his uncle as the other man opened his eyes and stepped back.

"I think... there was something. I could almost sense your ability hovering, as if waiting, but it wouldn't respond to my ability," He told them with a sigh. At their confused expressions, he continued; "Usually, I can manipulate other's aura to make them stronger or weaker."

John glared at him. He remembered all too well the way his uncle had done this with Sera. He'd hated the way she'd suddenly seemed so weak.

"So, you're too weak?" He asked Alban, unable to resist the jibe. His uncle glared at him.

"Well, your mother has stronger Aura Manipulation than me. But she can't help you, now can she?" He reminded John, causing him to wince this time. He hadn't saved her, and Alban knew how much John hated this fact. "This session is useless without your ability. Tell me when you get it back."

Without another word, Alban turned and began to walk away. He was gone in seconds, disappearing around the edge of Wellston's turf war field. John sighed, defeated, and turned to Sera. It seemed Alban had no more answers than the rest of them.

Sera's expression, however, was thoughtful.

"What is it?" He asked her. "You okay?"

He suddenly hoped she wasn't thinking Alban was right. I'm not useless without my ability... right?! He bit his lip. Sera had been friends with him as a cripple. She didn't think like the rest of the high tiers... it had taken a lot of work to get to that point, but it was something he really valued about her. She wasn't like the others.

"What if... we could ask her?" Sera began. John frowned.

"Who?"

Sera turned to face him, dark blue eyes flashing with slight concern before she spoke. "Well... your mother. She was unresponsive last time we saw her, but it's possible she could activate her ability. She doesn't have to remember for that." John could practically hear the missing words. She doesn't have to remember you to help us. She was right, though... they'd never found if his mother's ability remained. He took a deep breath.

"Alright. Let's visit her."

It didn't take them long to get out of the Turf War field, or to get back to Wellston. Sera called a taxi to take them to the hospital. John's stomach turned in his chest as it drew closer, and even more so as they approached the front doors. Sera grabbed his hand to pull him inside. He was glad of it; he wouldn't have had the strength without her.

His mother and dad were in the same room they'd been in before. John couldn't stop his breathing from getting harder as they made their way through the hallways.

"Hey." Sera's voice cut through his panic. He turned to look at her, realizing that they'd stopped walking. She exaggerated her breathing; he realized after a moment that she meant for him to copy her breathing pattern, to calm himself down. He gratefully did, finally allowing himself to relax for a moment.

When they finally did enter the hospital room, he couldn't help his eyes from being drawn to the bed at the end. His father was still laying there, nearly motionless. He hasn't woken up from the coma yet. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain.

His father wasn't the only one in the room this time, however. This time, there was a figure sitting in the other bed; a white-haired woman who was barely familiar to him. She hadn't seemed to even realize he was there before. This time, though, she reacted to their entrance and spoke.

"You look a lot like him."