Talentless

Phantom Daylight

Trigger warning: Jacen dies in this one. It's really brutal.

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          Thirteen year old Fitz Vacker opened his locker for the fifth time that lunch period. The newspaper was rolled up in there, along with the custom blue-and-teal notebook Keefe gave him for a Level One midterm present. Child Prodigy Chooses City College Over Ivy League. He'd checked the evidence once. Twice. Sophie Foster, whoever she was, was the perfect candidate. He'd been convincing his father of this for ten days already, but he'd only got the approval this morning. In two days' time, he'd be going to San Diego National History Museum. Apparently Sophie's class had a field trip there. He was going to meet the Black Swan's creation. Don't get too excited, he told himself. Most likely, this is another dead end. He decided to focus on the human souvenir he'd get himself. Probably a Starbucks coffee mug, or something.

          "Hey Fitzy!" Keefe called from the stairs. "You coming, or not? I'm going to finish your mallowmelt!"

          "Don't you dare, Sencen! No one touches my mallowmelt!" But it was half-hearted. He closed the locker, then made his way. A few girls were staring at him. His favorite blond boy stood in the stairwell, the sunlight reflecting his ice blue eyes. This was his happy place in the world.

          Little did he know, things were about to change.

          Little did he know, his life would change forever.

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          Twelve year old Dex Dizznee sighed as he shoved the seventh broken pencil tip into the garbage. He hated all elvin homework, but elvin history in particular. Why was Sir Bubu such a tough grader? Why did he take off five whole points because he mixed "Iphidemeia" with "Iphigenia"? Why couldn't he do something right?

           It was bad enough his parents were a "bad match." His father was Talentless, but his mother had married him anyway. Not for DNA, but for love. He wasn't a Vacker, who had thousands of potential lovers. His match list was reduced to everyone who was like him. Keep the bad with the bad, the good with the good. He was the bad. If anything, he was Talentless as well. Whatever.

          He lifted his head to the afternoon light, staring into the sky. His hands fidgeted, as they often did. They seemed to have a mind of their own. He liked to keep a ball of metal between them to keep them busy. Hours seemed to pass. But it was only thirty minutes. And in thirty minutes, the ball of metal became a gadget: a sleek, glassy panel that redirected the sun's light into a thin laser beam. He set it on his desk. It was built on a portable platform, easy to adjust. Dex placed it just right so it turned the window's light into a beam, burning a pinprick hole in his homework. He was a Technopath.

          He was going to prove them wrong.

          He was going to be a good kid.

          He was going to be strong.

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          Twelve year old Sophie Foster tried everything. She put on the loudest rock music she knew. She took headache medicine. She ate a burrito. But she just couldn't. Keep. Out. The. Thoughts. It didn't help her mom was practically screeching on the phone, even though she was forever thankful.

           "I DON'T CARE IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHO DID THIS!" Emma Iris Foster shouted into the receiver. "FIX THIS! IMMEDIATELY!"

          It had been ten days since the terrible day at the breakfast table, when her dad saw her terrible school photo on the news. Child Prodigy Chooses City College Over Ivy League. Terrible title, especially since the press got it in their heads that it was more important than the government update on the white fires spreading the area.