Feeble: A Secret Saturdays Story

Preface

"Everything is okay now, Zak.

That's what they told you. That's what you told yourself every night.

All you wanted was to be normal. Well, as normal as a family of cryptozoologists can be. Imagine living your life, having a power you didn't think had much significance, until it did. You spent around a year running for your life, finally knowing what it was capable of, and trying to escape the grasp of two clashing sides. One would be ready to kill you if they found out what you can do. The other ready to use you as a vessel to reclaim stolen soil.

It sounds cliche at best, having to face against the two sides you've only known to save your family and the world. However, that was your fate. Whether you liked it or not. Running from not only others, but yourself; what else was a thirteen year-old supposed to do when he finds out he's the reincarnation of an ancient evil cryptid god who had a bounty on his head?

That is...until you lost it all. Probably just as fast as when it came.

Should losing your powers be something you should worry about? Probably not. You hoped not. You've wanted them gone for so long. You were sixteen, you shouldn't be worrying about superpowers, you should be worrying about your future.

Everything started out fine after you defeated Argost those three years ago. Thanks to his lust for power, you were able to turn his hubris against him and save the world. Ever since then, everyone started to assimilate back to the old life before you discovered your power. Researching creatures that the world otherwise found imaginary; what more could a teen ask for? Sure, now that you couldn't calm cryptids down, you became a rather easy target and were seen as a threat again, but that didn't stop you. This is something you love to do.

Plus, you trained with the uncle you looked up to dearly, despite your parents' objections. Doyle took you under his wing again, preparing you for battle via a rigorous mercenary training regimen. Sneaking out at one in the morning was a new kind of exhilarating, and it fulfilled your lust for adventure now that there were no major bad guys to deal with and missions died down to around twice a week. It gave you a chance to clear your mind of any and all negative energies that drew close to you, or whatever mom calls it.

Hanging with your best friends became a frequent activity too. They even offered to help out with training. Hell, you and Francis were starting to break down barriers, even if it was just a sliver. Wadi, Ulraj, Vlad; they all came to congratulate you on saving the world from Argost's tyranny. Mom had managed to bring all of you together every now and then, and if it wasn't training, it was modified versions of classic outdoor games or playing video games if you were lucky. Oftentimes it was spent learning a new remedy, language, or scientific method by your mom and dad.

That's what's been going on for three years. Repetitive? Yes, a little. At least now you didn't bear the weight of the world upon your shoulders, right?

But what was this feeling that constantly tugged at your chest? A feeling that couldn't quite be called melancholy. Rather, it felt like something was missing. A portion that was essential to completing the puzzle, but it was nowhere to be found. That feeling of incompletion which brought a new wave of anxiety, as well as a need to fill that gap somehow.

Cryptid related missions have become increasingly difficult, without your powers. That strong connection you once had with cryptids now was desolate and felt close to nonexistent. You thought nothing of it at first. However, when it really dawned on you, a lightbulb appeared over your head. Instead of it shining brightly like you just came up with the greatest idea, it slowly flickered out and all you could do was utter a solemn "oh."

Reliance. You relied on those powers ever since you discovered them. It made you feel different, unique, special in a way. A way that allowed you to connect with cryptids on a deeper level than anyone else. Dad had mentioned something about you depending on your powers before, but of course you denied it. Although, could you really deny it? Using them was the only way you've ever handled a cryptid that was tough to reason with despite all the weapons at your disposal.

Unfortunately, you couldn't do anything about it. Not even tell your family about what you feel. They'd be scared, just as you are now. The fear that you may have actually wanted that power deep down, despite all the times you went against it. After all the times mom had tried to set up "normal" birthday parties for you. They'd try to come after you again (and by them, you really meant Beeman) afraid that you've become power hungry from being the host of Kur's essence. Trust would be tested once more; relationships severed.

What were you to do, now that the rest of your family have been practically dancing with joy knowing their only child didn't have target markers placed onto him anymore. Fiskerton was the only one who knew. Nothing could get past your brother. Whenever he confronted you about it though, you lied, saying it was probably puberty for once. You've never understood the feeling.

Nothing prepared you for the new circle of hell you were about to get yourself into. A new wave of mental turmoil that left you vulnerable, something Doyle said you weren't supposed to feel, especially on the battlefield. Still you put a smile on your face as if nothing was bothering you and you kept your mouth shut.

This sensitivity, it almost made you feel...feeble. Was that a word you should know? A feeling you should feel? This would all pass, right?

That's what you and everyone else had thought from the start.