The Intro to Energy classroom
lights were off. Foster was sitting in the middle of the room, alone. Rigid in
his meditation pose, his eyes closed in tight frustration. Arctic blue flames
washed off him in erratic waves. He was still trying to force his way to some
sense of even calm breathing pattern, the clockwork three second in and out
cycle of breathing feeling and sounding as unnatural as ever. There is a knock on
the door frame. Foster opens his eyes. Thompson was leaning in the doorway
hands in the pockets of his hoodie.
“So, this is why I haven’t seen
or heard from you in over a month?” He asked as he stepped into the room and
flipped the light switch. “I honestly don’t know why you’re here right now, if
you couldn’t meditate before you certainly won’t be able to now, what you’ve
chosen is the furthest away from peace of mind you’re ever going to get kid.”
Thompson slowly paced the front of the room.
Foster choked his fire out
completely and relaxed his posture. “Don’t
get mad at me for exploring an option you gave me.” He replied.
Thompson glared at Foster. “I was
trying to warn you about how awful this option really is.” He growled.
Foster shot to his feet. “Oh
sure, right, a ‘warning’ that’s what
that was. Warn the freshman away from limitless power, by telling him exactly
how to reach out and take it, great plan Thompson.” Foster spat.
Thompson shook his head. “I’ve
made a lot of mistakes in my life, In hoping you would learn from mine it
appears I have done nothing more than make another.” He admitted sadly.
Foster stepped back, a smile on
his face. “Mistake? How can you call this feeling, this power, a mistake?” he asked, blue flame building up his arms and
legs.
Thompson held Fosters gaze without
flinching. “Because I earned it , you haven’t. You’re just floating around in
the shallow end right now. If you want to stay in the pool you have to dive in.”
He explained.
“What makes you think I haven’t?”
Foster asked as the blue flame brightened.
Thompson shook his head. “Because
when you look into the darkness, it looks into you, and it’s not in you yet.”
He said, dropping into his fighting stance.
Foster looked at him wearily. “I
won’t hold back.” Foster said as he readied himself for what was coming.
Thompson was calmer than he
expected to be. “Everything comes with a price Foster. Daigo paid, I paid, so will you.” Thompson
launched himself at Foster who had no way of conceiving what the fight was
going to be like. Foster pushed himself to his absolute limits just to protect
himself from the onslaught that Thompson was laying down. He was five steps ahead of anything Foster
tried, he blocked ever strike, side stepped ever trip, and replied with multiple
blows to every attack Foster made. He was so rattled by Thompson’s ferocity
that he was making strings of poor moves and bad mistakes. Thompson practically
walked him into overextending himself, throwing him off balance finally and
catching him in a choke phone. Thompson slowly lowered him to the ground as he
gasped for air, his fire still burning brightly. “Let it die Foster, don’t
force me to make this choice.”
Foster feebly scrambles to pull
Thompson's arm away from his neck. “You, couldn’t!” Foster gasped, still
fighting for air. “To, many, questions.” He grunted, his struggles were getting
weaker.
Thompson smiled slightly. “I
fought and murdered a professor in this room and stand before you a free
man, and students disappear far more
often than professors.” There was the smallest flicker of flame in Thompsons
eyes as Fosters fire began to wither and fade. Foster dug deep and gave one
last push to escape the headlock. Thompson shut him down with ease. “You or the
fire Foster, one dies in the next five seconds.” The fire in Thompson’s eyes gets brighter. Foster
is now struggling for his life, the fear has set in and Thompson holds steady
like a professional bull rider. “Being an adult is all about making choices.”
Fosters fire flickers erratically Foster vision starts to go dark around the
edges. The flame gives a few final flicks of life and then is snuffed out
completely, then smoke rises from Fosters body as if he were a doused
campfire. Thompson lets him go and he
flops onto the floor of the classroom on his back, Taking huge gulps of air.
Thompson stands up, the fire in his eyes is raging now, fighting to get loose.
His hands are shaking a little bit. He turns away from Foster, counting to ten
and then laid down on the floor close to Foster who was trying to get his
breathing back under control. When Thompson opened his eyes the fire was gone.
“You were right.” Foster said
between deep breaths.
Thompson nodded. “You should have
listened to me in the first place, you don’t want this burden.” He said
finally.
Foster shook his head. “No, I
mean t you were right about the breathing. It’s a lot harder to control it when
you’re beat to hell.” He laughed at himself which sent him into a tiny coughing
fit.
Thompson laughed and shrugged his
shoulders. “Can’t breathe, can’t fight.” He said with a smile.
Foster nodded. “No kidding.” He
said.
The pair laid in the room in
silence for a moment. Foster had gotten his breathing back under control and it
was clear that while he would be fine, his neck would be sore for a few days.
Foster stopped investigating his
neck for a moment. “Hey Thompson?” He asked.
Thompson opened his eyes. “yeah?”
He asked.
Foster put his hands on the floor
again. “You know you have to help Cynthia in her showcase now right? I was supposed it, as the student with the
highest score but without the fire I’m not nearly good enough and she needs
someone who can match her for her exhibition.” He explained. Thompson stared
silently at the ceiling. Foster continued. “I mean I appreciate what you did
for me, but now you need to help her.” He finished.
Thompson was staring a hole into
the corner of a ceiling tile as he listened to Foster. “I don’t want to hurt
her.” He replied.
Foster sighed heavily. “I don’t
know if you noticed, she may bruise when you hit her, but she dies inside when
you ignore her.” Foster offered.
Thompson closed his eyes. “So
what happens if I lose control?” He asked.
Foster shrugged his shoulders. “So
far you’ve fought an old man that was ready to die, and a complete unskilled
freshman. You’re good but it’s entirely possible that she’s better.” Foster
said.
“And what makes you think that?”
Thompson asked.
Foster thought about it for a
moment. “Because she loves brighter than you burn.” He said after sitting up.
Thompson looks over at Foster in
mild surprised. “I know we just tried to kill each other, but Thomas Foster.”
He said sitting up and holding out his hand. “It has been an honor to be your friend.”
They shook hands and Foster
smiled which made him wince in pain. “Same here, just don’t, ever, try to ‘help’
me again.” He demanded.
Thompson laughed. “Deal.” He
agreed.
