She opened her eyes. She screamed and pulled at her hands, they were on the other side of the door. Her arms stopped at the wrist; from there on was only the smooth grain of the wood. How had this happened? Derrex squeezed her fingers on the other side.

“It’s alright. Your hands are over here,” he said.

“But I’m stuck!” she wailed.

Xania pulled at her arms again, panic rising up.

Derrex let go of her hands and she balled them into fists, trying to make them smaller. Derrex opened the door and Xania had to step forward with it. Derrex fluttered his hands around her a moment.

“I can’t touch you!” he said.

“No! Please don’t,” she begged.

They looked at each other. A giggle trickled out of Xania. She hung her head, but the laughter came out in a great roar. Derrex gaped at her a moment. The laughter was contagious though and he was quickly caught up in it.

“We’ll figure something out,” he said through the chuckles.

“That’s good because I’d hate to stay here,” she said.

She stifled her laughter. Of all the stupid things. There was a war raging. A tree was dying. A king was hunting her. She was a budding superpower. And now she was wrist deep in a door. She could learn to control her power. That’s what he said. Maybe melting herself into a door was the first step.

Derrex went to the bathroom and dug around.

“What can I do?” he thought.

He rifled through the cupboards and stared at their contents, hoping for something of an inspiration. He grabbed the liquid soap. Maybe he could lubricate her hands enough to slide them back through the holes. He went to the kitchen and grabbed one of the stools. He returned with his hopeful treasures, glad that Xania had stopped laughing. It really wasn’t funny.

“Here’s something to sit on,” he said.

He put the stool down and helped her sit.

He looked at the soap and added, “This might take a while.”

“So what’s your plan?” she asked.

She gave the soap a dubious glance.

“I’m going to pour soap on your hands and maybe you could slide them back out,” he said with a shrug.

It sounded a little dumb once he said it out loud, but he didn’t have any other ideas.

“Will that work?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he said.

He went to the other side of the door and squirted the soap over her hands.

“That’s cold,” she gasped.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

He looked at the dripping mess, guessing at the amount and then asked, “Can you wiggle them at all?”

She tried to turn her wrists, but they wouldn’t move.

“No,” she answered.

Derrex cursed. He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in oily tufts.

“What now?” she asked.

“Maybe I could rub it down closer to the wood,” he offered.

“Will I have a vision?” she asked.

Her heart beat faster.

“You might,” he stated.

“Do it, but quickly,” she said.

He rubbed at the copious soap on her hands so that it was down her wrists near the wood.

“Try again,” he said.

He looked at her around the door.

She pulled at her hands again.

“They still aren’t moving,” she reported.

“Should I try magic? I can’t mold wood myself, but I might be able to channel your ability,” he suggested.

“Do you think it will work?” she asked.

Leaning her head against the door, she wiggled her fingers. They were getting cold.

“Not sure. But it’s the only other idea I have,” he said.

“Alright, let’s try it,” she answered.

Derrex took Xania’s hands and rested his forehead against the door.

“What do I do?” she asked.

“You need to try to find the place where your power is. I imagine mine as a bubble that holds my power and spills it when the bubble pops,” he explained.

“How do I find it?” she asked.

The image that came to mind was not pleasant. A large balloon, over filled that explodes and coats Derrex with a slime. And that works for him?

“I don’t know you just do,” he said.

“That’s not very helpful,” she snapped.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way to explain it. Even if I could, it may not be the same for you,” he snapped back.

Xania sighed, wishing she could scratch the itch on her nose.

“I’m not an object shaper, but I am alright at channeling other people’s powers,” he offered.

Alright. That was the key word there. She never liked the key words much.

“What is your magic good at?” she asked.

He was quiet for a moment.

“Healing and light tricks,” he answered.

Not molding. Not channeling. Not anything useful or related to what they were doing right now. But hey, he was alright at channeling. A bubble of frustration rose up from her gut. She was tired of things being complicated. All the solutions never quite lined up with what she needed. People never knew what they were doing. And she sure as fuck never did. Why was that? Life was groping in the dark.

She could feel his disappointment in the palms of her hands. It radiated from him in dark waves of heat. She was sorry that his power never became all he wanted it to be. Derrex had once hoped to be a master of the magical arts, but his own power limited him to being nothing more than a dabbler. Xania could feel how he used that anger to spur the magic into frenzy. The energy crawled against her skin. It was like holding a handful of worms. He pushed at it again and it rushed past the barrier of her flesh, rushing inside her like acid. She screamed and tried to pull away.

“Don’t fight me,” he advised.

“It hurts!” she declared.

“Do you want to stay in the door?” he asked.

Xania forced herself to relax and she let the energy flood her. It seemed to fill even the spaces between her cells. Xania screamed and felt her own power respond. It raged in response to the presence in her flesh. Her energy pushed out from her center in throbbing, soothing waves and flooded out into Derrex; expelling the alien force from her. Her power surged into him and he cried out. She opened her eyes and could see only him. Where had the door gone? When had she closed her eyes?

A screaming child. Mother whispering sweet little hushes. The room was pale blue with a huge window. Long lace curtains billowed into the room, rustling restlessly. Outside was the noise and bustle of the city. Enormous white towers rose up into the sky, casting dark shadows. The streets twisted around the bases of these tall buildings. People stood impatiently, waiting for the sidewalk bubble to move again. Every fifteen minutes, but not soon enough when you’re already late. Swoosh, the bubble slid away and in a few minutes another stopped where the first had been. The streets were filled with thousands of these bubbles. People stood, paced, or sat while they waited for their bubble to get wherever they were going.

Rising above the streets and the white towers was an even larger and more grand structure. Convoluted marble walls surrounded the immense stone beast, as if it were caged there. Miles of lush gardens stretched between the wall and the structure. Walkways wove between the bushes and trees that thickly filled the gardens. The walkways were old-fashioned stone. No one traveled them despite the flowers that fragrantly spilled out color. The structure itself looked like a huge dragon. Its mighty wings stretched up and out into impossible heights. Its jaw held fierce fangs and spewed forth an elegant fire of red glass. The fire struck the ground and roiled up as if it could burn the slope of the gently rising hill.

Xania pulled back, floating higher up into the sky. The dragon slowly shrunk and then disappeared into the general green. Xania blinked. There was nothing there. Where had she come to? She wanted to go back. It was a beautiful city. She wondered why Derrex had ever left there.

She fell. The ground rushed up at her, the white towers zoomed up past her and she stopped short of slamming into the street. She hovered above the ground a moment before a gust of wind gathered her up and hurried her along the twisting streets. Then she was rushed into one of the towers, into an elevator and up. The elevator dinged and stopped. Out into the hall and to a door. It slid open to reveal a small apartment. There was little here to speak of. A carpet sat in front of a small table by the window. A mostly burned candle and a well thumbed book adorned the table top. The rest of the room was empty and the hardwood floor glared up in a naked sheen.

Xania walked across the room to the doorway. There was a small carpeted room here with nothing in it, but doors leading out. She could hear voices here.

“What’s going on, dad?” Derrex whined.

Xania followed the sound. A young Derrex stood next to an older man that was hurriedly packing a bag that lay on the sleeping table.

“There is no time to explain, Derrex. You just have to trust me,” father said.

“But father-“ Derrex started.

“They know what I have done. I cannot stay here. Not if I want to do anything else to help those poor creatures,” father said.

“Creatures?” Derrex asked.

Father zipped up the bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“The Aelorians,” father answered.

“But those are just your stories. You said so,” Derrex said.

“They are more than that,” father stated.

“Father…” Derrex said.

“Derrex! Listen to me. They are coming for me now. If they find us here, they will kill us both. Now please, save your questions and doubt for when we are safe. Then I will explain everything,” father promised.

“Alright,” Derrex said.

Then they rushed through Xania. Father picked up the book before he hurried out of the room. They rode down the elevator and hurried out to the waiting bubble. It quietly slid away, carrying them into traffic and then to the city limits. There they changed transport to a motorcycle and continued their journey away from the city.

Xania pulled back again to the green place of nothing. Why was she here? She wanted to know where Derrex and his father had gone. She fell back down toward the earth and this time knew where she was: Listama. She’d lived here most of her life, she knew these streets.

Derrex and his father walked along, huddled together against the cold night. They were lost, unsure of what street they needed to be on. Father thought crossing through this alley would take them to the market, they could find their way from there.

“Hey, old man! You’re passing through a restricted area.”

A tall lanky man stepped from the shadows, tapping a gun in the palm of his hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. We will return the way we came,” father murmured.

Father started to turn himself and Derrex around, but stopped when the man laughed. Others joined in the laughter from the shadows.

“It’s not that easy,” the man said.

Father looked at him.

“You need to pay the toll now,” the man explained.

The man smiled.

“A toll?” Father looked relieved, “How much?”

“Well, if you hand over everything you’re carrying, we’ll let you go unharmed,” the man said.

“I’m sorry, but I carry things that cannot be passed into your possession, but you may have the rest,” father said.

Father held out his bag, but kept the well worn book in his other hand. The group laughed again, sounding like a pack of hyenas.

“All of your stuff or we take the toll out of your hide,” they threatened.

The man pointed the gun at father.

Father handed Derrex the book.

“Run,” father commanded.

Derrex bolted from the men and father raised his arms quickly, releasing a bright flash of light as he did. The men howled as their eyes burned. Father ran, following Derrex.

“Shoot him!”

“I can’t see!”

“Shoot him anyway!”

Shots rang out, echoing in the night. The men stumbled after father as they began to regain their vision.

“Shoot him!”

More shots. Father stumbled and fell, but Derrex was too far ahead to see…

Xania wept. What an introduction to the city. She didn’t want to see any more. It was easy to withdraw to the green place again. Xania wished to see nothing else of this man’s history, he knew only sorrow.