Mistral

Soturi watched her little girl carefully carry the pitcher of water to the workers.  For the little girl the task was very important and difficult and all her attention was focused on it, trying not to let a single drop of water fall out of the pitcher.  One by one the little girl offered water to the workers that were picking fruit.  Once the pitcher was empty Mistral ran back to get more water.

Soturi never let her eyes get off her daughter, but in a blink her daughter disappeared, the giggles made her turn and she found Mistral standing next to her, offering the pitcher so she could fill it with water.

“More!” the little girl asked with a smile, eager to continue with her job.

“Good job Mistral,” Soturi said.  She refilled the pitcher and let her daughter go back to her job.

Soturi wasn’t sure what had happened, was she distracted for a moment? How could she lose track of her daughter like that?

While she thought about it, Soturi felt incredibly calm and peaceful and knew that Melchizedek was back.  Mistral also noticed her father’s return and dropping the pitcher ran towards her father.  Soturi watched her little girl and again, she disappeared before her eyes, to reappear in front of her father.  Melchizedek opened his arms and received his daughter in a hug.  He exchanged a look with Soturi, she wasn’t imagining things, Melchizedek had also watched their daughter disappear.  There was no doubt, Mistral’s powers were manifesting; she was teleporting.

Years later

Mistral woke up and heard her parents talking in their room.  It was night, which meant that they were having a conversation they didn’t want her to listen.  Feeling guilty but unable to stop her curiosity, she walked to the wall and listened to their talk.

“I know how you feel,” her mother said, “you were raised to worry about others, to take care of them.  It’s only natural that you feel responsible for the wellbeing of your people, and mine, but you need to understand that there’s only so much you can do.”

“My parents share my ideals,” her father said, “but there’s not much they can do.  Since I left the Light Kingdom their position weakened, without an heir to follow their steps they lost their place in the succession line.”

“I know you want to be there, to be able to speak for your people, but you know it’s impossible,” Mistral recognized those words; it was an argument that she had heard her mother use before.  “Even if you go back, you won’t be recognized as a High Priest, not if Mistral and I go with you.”

“You only need to stop using your powers,” Melchizedek said.  “If you act normal, if you don’t use your enhanced speed and control your strength the priests won’t have any cause to call you off.  And if we can keep Mistral from using her teleportation in public she will be safe.”

“You know we can’t do that, we grew up using our powers all the time, is as natural as breathing to us.  And all it takes if for us to use our powers once for the priests to have an excuse to send us back here.”

“There are drugs that can help you control your powers,” Melchizedek said.

“I could live with that,” Soturi said, “but I won’t force my daughter to be drugged out of her mind.  I know it might be selfish of me, but I won’t sacrifice my daughter for anyone.”

“And I can’t go without you,” Melchizedek added, “so we’re back at the start.”

Mistral went back to bed, she had heard enough.  Every time her father visited the Light he came back with the same guilt of not being able to be there for his people.  She didn’t understand why people in the Light weren’t allowed to use their powers.  Her father had tried to explain once that only people who had undergone extensive training in one of the temples could use their powers, but only under the priests supervision.  In the Light people believed that powers could only be good if used under the goddess’ priests control.

But Mistral couldn’t recall a time when she hadn’t used her powers.  There were so many good things she could do with her powers, so many people she could help.  She couldn’t help but feel guilty that she was stopping her father from helping people, but she also knew that she couldn’t help but use her powers if that meant she was helping someone, how could she choose the best way of helping?

Mistral didn’t sleep, she spent all night thinking about her parents’ conversation, and in consequence she had been distracted all day.  Her father had sent her to deliver food to a family that lived in the outskirts of the town, the father of that family was away working, and the mother was taking care of their sick child, so there was no one available to go pick up the part of the harvest they deserved, that’s why Mistral was sent instead.   She knew that with just one jump she could reach them, but she was forcing herself not to use her powers to see if she could control herself and help her father.  But it was hard to know that she could finish the task fast and go back to help someone else instead of wasting her time walking there.

When she saw the dust cloud she couldn’t wait anymore, with just a thought she found herself in front of the family’s house.  It took her just a couple of minutes to drop the food and she was in the middle of the road in a few seconds, wishing that she was right and that the vehicle approaching the town was her godmother’s.

The vehicle traveling the worn down road stopped abruptly a few feet from Mistral.  An angry woman got out of the vehicle and walked towards Mistral.

“What were you thinking?” Kaiserin scolded her.  “I could have hurt you.”

“I could have moved out of the way if you hadn’t stopped, godmother.”

“That’s true,” she acknowledged, “but still, you need to be careful.  Don’t you think that you owe me a proper greeting after the scare you gave me?”

“I’m sorry godmother.”  Mistral ran to Kaiserin and hugged her with all the strength she had.  In Kaiserin’s arms Mistral felt safe and confident.  She was an incredible powerful woman, if someone could help her it was her.  “Godmother?  Can I ask you a favor?”

“You know you can,” she immediately answered.  “You know I would do anything for you.”

“Do you promise to help me?” Mistral asked.

“Of course.  What do you need?”

“I need you to take my powers away.” Mistral asked, confident that her godmother could solve her problem.

“Why would you want me to take your powers away?!” Kaiserin was stunned.

“Because that’s the only way my father can help people from the Light.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking for.  Your powers are part of you, I can’t take them away without taking a part of you as well.”

“That means you can take them away?”  Mistral felt confident she had the answer to her problem.  “You promised,” she reminded her, “you said you would help me.  My father can’t go to the Light permanently if I have my powers, but if I don’t have them then he can be a High Priest again.”

“But then I won’t be able to see you,” Kaiserin said with sadness.  “Not only that, if I take your powers again your memories will go as well.”

“But you said you would help,” Mistral repeated.  “Besides, you are the one who taught me that the wellbeing of many people is more important that the wellbeing of an individual.”

Kaiserin had gone to the Shadows looking for help and advice and was not prepared to deal with a situation like the one Mistral had presented her.  But her little goddaughter was right, she had promised to help and she had taught her to think of the well being of many over the wellbeing of one.  She was proud that Mistral was willing to sacrifice herself to help other people, but she was too young to really understand what she was asking for.  The only way she knew to block her powers was to block her memories, just like Kamose had done to her.  Kaiserin knew that she could find a way to do that without hurting her, unlike her father had done, but she wasn’t eager to do that.  She needed to talk to Melchizedek first, she wouldn’t do anything so drastic without first talking to Mistral parents.