Stories of the short variety

COLOURBLIND

This short story was a result of the writing prompt 'Magic is real. However, it's based on your favourite Colour' from /r/WritingPrompts. 

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The day my magic came into effect was supposed to be the day society stopped caring that I existed.

I was never going to have a 'normal' coming of age ceremony. Hell, most people agreed there hadn't been much point having one at all, but my parents had taken me to the centre all the same. Nobody expected anything, but the law dictated every child on their thirteenth birthday had to attend for documentation purposes, so off I went.

My brothers made sure I knew I was wasting everyone's time the entire way there. After all, how was someone born blind suppose to develop that connection with colour we needed to draw magic from? You didn't. People like me didn't get magic. We were tagged as 'Colourblind' and left to rot on the edges of society, assuming we didn't go insane first.

Being led by my mother into what I assume was reception was embarassing enough. I heard the usual sniggers, the whispered words people thought I couldn't hear. I ignored them all and sat down in a chair as my father's low voice conversed with the receptionist. That... that understanding pity was almost the thing that sent me running, but the warmth through my mother's hand calmed me and kept me still.

I squeezed her fingers. Her other hand laid over the top of mine. It wasn't fair. How was I supposed to survive in a world that ignored the fact that I existed?

It wasn't long before my name was called. I heard someone argue that I was supposed to go in alone before the words'she's blind' slipped through my mother's lips. That stopped the protest rather quickly.

I was led off the carpet and onto the harsh click of cold tiles. At least three other people moved about the room, footsteps that stopped after I was seated on some cushy lounge.

"So, Aislin," said the person before me, a slight pause as he read my name off the sheet rustling in his hands. "My name's Dr. Siseal, and I'll be your guide on this rather excit--ahem, today, okay?"

I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure if I could stop my voice from cracking if I did. I just had to hold it together for another half an hour. After I was declared an official Colourblind, I could start figuring out everything else -- AKA, I'd drop out of school and begin my life as something that'd kill any semblance of happiness by age twenty.

"Okay," said Siseal, clearing his throat. "Now, I'm sure you already know how the process works, but I'll explain it just to clear up any misconceptions you might have."

The sound of something heavy wheeled in my direction. My mother lifted my hand to the surface to let me feel it. It was about as close to seeing as I got, and all I saw here was a smooth, spherical object twice the size of my head.

"This is a Sparker," said Siseal. "Basically, when you turn thirteen, that connection with your Colour matures, but it can take up to a year to actually switch on. With the Sparker, we can switch it on right now and avoid any accidental misuse of power and document it all in one place!"

I'd heard about a few of those disasters. Before Sparkers had been invented, there'd been more than one incident where a fire or flood had been caused as a result of someone's particularly strong bond to their colour. The one that stuck in my head was the kid who'd turned anything he touched to a jelly-like consistency, resulting in a jelly-fied school building.

Listening to those stories in history, I'd always dreamed what it'd be like to use my Colour. Preferably, I'd be a Yellow. I liked the sound of the word, and the idea of manipulating energy sounded pretty cool too but really, I would have been happy with anything. Even Orange sounded appealing when faced with my situation, and I hated Tech. It was so... lifeless. It all felt the same. 

"So!" said Siseal. "We'll pop this on your head, and it should be over fairly quickly. Sound good to you?"

My mother filled in for my silence. "I'm sure Aislin's ready to go."

More heavy wheeling. "Great! Then we'll begin now!"

A tap on a screen. The sound of hydraulics. Siseal's foot as it adjusted on the tiles, all blocked out as the Sparker was placed over my head.

Maybe blocked wasn't the right word. Muffled is more accurate. It sounded like I was underwater, my mind suspended as I tried to make out the world around me.

A humming noise began. According to my mother, lights of every possible colour in the visible spectrum were flashing at this point in a pattern that 'sparked' your magic on. She said she'd been drawn to the Violet, that it'd reacted, but as usual, I saw and felt nothing.

It didn't matter how much I strained, how much I desperately wanted to see something--anything. As the humming continued to grow to a high-pitched whine, an ember settled in my chest. It burned through every thought, every emotion, leaving my mind empty of everything.

Something sparked.

I heard a voice. With the echo inside the Sparker, everything still sounded like it was underwater, but this one was different. I turned my attention towards it, attempting to bring it into focus, and slowly, so very slowly, it grew sharper.

This one hears, it whispered. But can she listen?

Maybe I'd gone insane after all. That'd been one of the possibilities, a fairly common occurrence among the blind. They heard voices no one could explain, voices that would ask and demand and push, only to be explained away as a mental break due to lack of connection with a colour.

Hello, insanity, I said internally. Can I call you that, or do you have another preference?

The voice didn't reply straight away, and it seemed surprised when it did. No one has ever asked my name before.

Well, I've never heard voices in my head before, so it's a first for us both, I said. My name is Aislin, and I'll be your host today, and probably every day after that.

My name is Naira, said the voice. And you are the first who has ever heard me calling. I think you are the first to have ever heard my kind calling and listened.

Your kind?

Yes, said Naira. My kind have been calling to yours for decades, since we gifted humans with the ability to connect with colour, but we underestimated how much value you place on your eyes. We did not think so many of you would ignore your natural attunement in favour of a colour you could see, but you have done it. After so many years, you are the first to have done it!

Outside my head, I heard the humming stop, the Sparker being lifted. I heard my mother converse with Siseal in frantic, borderline panicked tones.

Naira continued. We never thought it would be easy for one of you to attune to this colour, but we were desperate. With no physical bodies of our own, we were forced to reach out to save our kind, and human minds were the only ones capable of connecting in the way we required. It is vital that you learn to--

There were more than three sets of footsteps now, more urgent voices drowning out Naira's in my head. Hands grabbed my arms, none of them my mothers. Over everything, I heard her screaming my name. When I tried to follow her, something sharp pierced my neck.

Silence.

I awoke here, wherever that is. No one's spoken to me. I've heard no footsteps, no swishing of fabric, but I doubt there's no one watching me. If I concentrate hard, my fingers tingle and I think I can sense a presence to my left. Every time I try to reach out to it, it feels blurry and out of focus, but I know I can sharpen it. I've done it once already, back in the examination room with the Sparker over my head, and it's not like I have anything else to do.

Alone in this room, it's just me and my invisible colour.

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