Rising Smoke

Chapter Eleven

        He glances away, seeming to gather his thoughts. Since I'm staring at him so intently, I didn't realize I was about to slam face-first into the pillar untill it was too late. But thankfully, Conran pulled my arm and jerked me away from it. I breath a sigh of relief. That was close. 

       "Be careful," He mutters.

      "Sorry," I whisper back, "I'm just... I want to know everything."        

        He quirks a brow, which somehow makes him more attractive. I shake my head. So do not need to be thinking about that.

        "Any last detail, no matter how small it is. It will help if I know everything." I clarify.

        "As you'd like," He nods his head, then says, "You must know that we are not related. You had no uncles or aunts to take over. So your father wanted his best friend and closest advisor to step in and take over, but since mine and Arlen's father died shortly after yours, I took over. Me being the eldest and all." 

        I nod my head, soaking everything he said in. Yes, that was something basic that I remembered. But I don't recall seeing much of their father. 

        He continues, "Luckily for me, I was being trained to take over if something ever did occur." He sneaks a glance at me. "With you being gone and all, I was the next runner up." I blink, and his lips twist into a humorless smile. 

        "Did you not want this?" I gesture with my hand at our surroundings, which is now a big, open room, with some people scurrying around, occasionally bowing in our direction.

        He gulps, and pales slightly before turning to me with sad eyes. He doesn't have to say anything. I already knew the answer. He didn't want this.

        -----

        "You got this Leila, just focus," Conran says to me standing with his arms crossed, while I am seated. We are inside some big ballroom thing, alone. But that's okay I preferred it this way. I didn't want other people, my subjects, watching me fail at something I am supposed to be good at. I don't want to worry them by being bad at something that is the only thing that will keep us from Malakai.

        We have been at this for awhile now and I was only able to get my hands to glow slightly for about one point two seconds. It was pathetic, I know. I growl and flop onto my back.

        "This is pointless! I need a break!" I practically yell.

        "I don't care. Malakai won't care. Keep going." Conran says calmly, not affected by my outburst in the least. I roll my eyes, sit up and attempt to recreate what I did yesterday. I was doing some badass stuff yesterday and that wasn't even all I could do. Now I can't even summon up a whisp of that power.

        I clench my hands into fists. Anger is swirling in my belly, but I can feel something else. Something tingly along my skin, almost electrifying it. I grin. Closing my eyes, I increase whatever is sizzling across my body. Breathing in and out, I concentrate on my hands pulling the power there. That is what I want. That is what I want.

        My eyes snap open. Ahah! My hands, they are starting to glow, to really glow. My brow crinkles and I will my power to spread to my arms. It does, inch by inch, centimenter by centimeter. I lick my lips. I am in my own world. Nothing else matters. This power feels amazing, like I could do anything. 

        Like I could do anything... An idea pops into my head. All those years of superhero movies really helps with the supernatural such as this. I gather a ball of light in the palm in my head and then release it. 

        I fling it acrosss the room where it moves so fast I can barely track it. It smashes into the wall, charring the painting hanging there.

        "Shit," I look up to Arlen who looks like he departed mentally for awhile. He's stunned. His mouth is open and that is the most expressive I have seen him. He's not even looking at the charred painting, which is currently slightly on fire. Nope not him. He's looking at me with the thunderstruck expression.

        This is when I realize I'm panting. Breath is wooshing out of my body as fast as it is going in. Sweat trickles down my forehead. I wipe it away. Looking at my hands, I turn them around. The light is gone from them, dimming down to regular looking hands. 

        "Your...," Conran's voice comes out as a whisper, "whole body..."

        I look up at him surprised. I thought he had turned into a statue. 

        "Glowed." He finishes. "It was... beautiful. Your hair was flying and... your eyes...they lit up. I have never seen anything... so powerful."

        My breath takes one last wobble out. I gulp, and my face heats up. "Thanks. I didn't know I had that in me as well. I just kept pushing myself."

        "Well it was amazing," he practically breathes out. "Do it again."

        "Uhh..." I glance at my hands, curl them into fists and concentrate. I try to get angry. I try to summon that electricity I felt a few minutes earlier. Biting my lip crinkling my brow, I feel my hands start to warm up. They start to glow. It's not an uncomfortable feeling. It actually feels really good. Breathing deep, I increase the heat. I relax my fingers, spreading my fingers up, palm up. Then they burst into flames. I squeak and close my fingers trying to turn it off. It does, immediately. I blink and look at my hands. Not charred at all. Not like that poor painting I incinerated earlier. Huh. I glance up at Conran and I notice he has sat down next to me. He's staring at me, still thunderstruck.

        "Your powers will amaze us all," he whispered. I blush again. "Can you do that again now?"

        "I think so." I look at my hands squeeze them then release them and they burst into flame. This time I didn't freak out. My eyes widened and I slowly moved my hands around, careful not to touch the flames to my clothes or his clothes.

        "Can you shoot a ball or anything?" Conran asks, eyes alight with my flames. I lick my lips and try to move the flames with my fingers, curving them into balls. They twist and writhe and finally start resembling something like a ball, but it's still not there yet. Then I start using my mind and hands to coax them into a ball shape. Ha! There! It did it! I smile, victoriously. Then I raise my eyes to a painting a hundred feet away. I raise my hand and throw the flame toward it. Except the flame stuck to my hand. It didn't move from my hand. I look at it and try again, being sure to think, separate. Then it goes flying across and smashes into the painting, making it erupt into flames.

        I jump up and shout, "I did it!" I look at Conran and I see him smiling up at me with a thunderstruck look on his.

        "Yes you did," he says softly. Then he stands up to. "You hands are still on fire."

        "Oh," I look down. He's right they are. "Guess I will have to figure out how to turn--" The fire went out, right as I was thinking they needed to be turned off. "Ok, that was easy."

        "How so?" He tilts his head to the said, completely entranced by what I am about to say.

        "Well, I just thought that I wanted the flames to go away and they did." I shrug my shoulders.

        He smirks, shaking his head. "You are amazing."

        I laugh, "I know right." 

        And now we are looking at each other just smiling. Okay... I walk up to him and hug him. I know this surprised him, because he doesn't return my hug for a few seconds. Then his arms come up and hug me gently, then fiercely, like he wasn't sure how long this hug was supposed to be. But I just kept hanging on.

        "Thank you for bringing me back." I whisper into his shirt. He had changed into regular clothes, well regular for here. It was like a long-sleeve and jeans that could have been seen as normal on Earth. I was wearing something similiar, but the female version.

        He squeezed me tighter. "No problem."