Aetherials - Part One

...𝕬𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖑𝖘 ...

...Part One...

...─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───...

Me and Ryan sit side-by-side on the couch staring at the gaping hole where our living-room window once was.

My expression reads pure terror; his is mild annoyance, like he's been through this a hundred times before.

"We are called... Aetherials" he says finally, breaking the silence.

"We... as in-" I stammer, lifting a trembling finger to point at my chest.

"Yes as in you too.." He sighs out lifting his rough, calloused hand, pressing it against his face.

"There are three types of Aetherials" He continues, holding up three fingers ticking each finger as he speaks

"Chronaris, Elementaris, and Psinaris" He glances at me to make sure I'm paying attention before continuing

"You are a Chronari with the ability of Chronokinesis. It's extremely rare—thats why I hid you all these years. There are varying degrees of Chronaris; most can flick time back or forward by a second, none can freeze or manipulate time like you."

my mouth falls agape before stuttering out, "Then... what are you?"

his gaze meets mine for a moment before he rests his chin on his knuckle, "A Elementari—Hydrokensis to be exact. Other Aetherials call us Mistborn"

I pause staring into his deep blue eyes flecked with seafoam green, "somehow that makes sense" I murmur.

For the first time today he lets out a laugh— the laugh I know and cherish. Low and deep, and I can't help but feel some of the tension ease.

I point toward the shattered window and ask, "what—what was he, then?"

Ryan stares back at me, his eyes narrowing, he whispers some curses under his breath

"His name's Crow—a halfbreed. They call them Duelis. Duelis can control two different abilities. He's an Elementari and a Psinari. More precisely he wields Pyrokinesis and Psychokinesis "he stops, staring at me trying to gauge if I understand.

"So... mind-control and fire" I reply, my voice barely above a whisper as I meet his gaze.

I have a million questions, and I should be angry. My mind is in shambles, trying to piece together every last fragment of information.

My hands tremble at my sides, and I feel like if I let myself fully feel anything right now, I'd shatter into a million pieces—carried away by the night breeze—or worse... lose control of this newfound power.

"You should really get some rest. You're like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode" Ryan chirps placing his large hand on the top of my head ruffling my hair.

...─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───...

I stand and pace back to my room letting my mind reel over the events of the evening.

Opening my bedroom door, my eyes fall to the long forgotten book I'd dropped after getting a papercut—a simple cut seems so trivial compared to tonight.

I throw my exhausted body into bed. Outside my room the sound of glass crutching underfoot drifts in—no doubt Ryan, muttering curses at Crow is sweeping it up.

The image makes me chuckle despite myself, I clutch a pillow, letting it anchor me a comforting presence amidst the chaos.

...─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───...

I throw myself out of bed at the shrill cries of my father, billowing through the two-story town-house. Racing down the stairs, stumbling over a few steps, I find him clinging to my mother's lifeless, limp body.

I rush over throwing myself to my knees shoving my father aside, my hands grasping at her hands—her face—desperately searching for any sign of life.

"Mom..?" My voice is barely above a whisper, my father's screams blurring into the background

"Mom..?" I repeat, as if, in some impossible moment, she'll stir and give me that same distant, cold, familiar stare she always did.

I shake her more vigorously—as if I could jolt the warmth, the life, back into her bones. My cries and soft pleas turn to screams as I shake her lifeless corpse.

Suddenly the room falls silent. My father's wails vanish, frozen mid-scream, as I stare at him, he hangs in place like a portrait.

The only sobs in the room are mine. Stillness—cold, distant, and as unyielding as my mother's corpse—grips the room.

The only movement is brother Ryan, bursting through the doors, face etched with worry and bewilderment.

...─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───...

"Del—Delphi—Delphine!"

my eyes snap open, face soaked with tears, my chest heaving. as my brother hands grip each one of my arms, shaking me awake, for a moment, the line between nightmare and reality blurs.

"Delphi—thank god you're awake!" Ryan exhales in relief pulling me into a tight embrace. My hands hang limply at my sides "You knew—when mom died—my powers?"

He pulls back from the hug and studies my face. I hold my breath, watching him, desperate for an explanation he seems unable to voice.

Guilt clouds his eyes as he gathers the courage to speak "Delphine... when mom died—you were a mess—you weren't ready to wield a power like that just yet." He pauses, unsure if he should continue, "I had crow reorganize your memories—just enough to where it could suppress your power for the time being."

My eyes blaze with anger, every muscle in my body coiling tight. "My mind isn't yours to play with Ryan! My feelings—my memories, aren't just toys!"

he stares at me unapologetic, "You weren't ready Delphine!"

my fists clench the sheets till my knuckles turn white, heat-hammering.

"When will I ever be ready Ryan!" The words tear from me, raw, desperate. I watch as his gaze shifts to somewhere I can't quite follow, his jaw sets before he finally mumbles out

"In an hour... we will both be leaving for Crownspire." I let the words hang there, heavy and deliberate, like he's tossing me a lifeline to drag us out of the wreckage of the past.

And I take it—I let him redirect, even if it means swallowing the storm boiling in my chest.

Not right now. Not yet.

"Where the hell is that?" I snapped, the anger still raw, biting through my voice like glass.

He swallows hard before responding, "A coastal island off the side of California"

I study him closely, watching the way his eyes flicker like he's sketching the map inside his head, seeing it clearer than I ever could.

"Crownspire houses Atherium Academy" He continues, the words careful but weighted.

"My school—well... your school now, as well." He lifts himself from the bed, dragging a hand hard across his face as if to scrape away the grief that still clung to him.

His shoulders sag but his voice is steel when he steps toward the door. "Pack light."

And just like that, he swings it open, letting it click shut behind him. The silence that follows presses heavy on my chest.

My hands tremble against the sheets, a storm of questions and fury burning hotter with each breath.

Pack light.

As if he hadn't just ripped open my entire past. I grab a pillow, pressing it to my face before screaming into it—long, loud, until my lungs burn.

The sound rattles inside the cotton, desperate and ugly, but still not enough to drown the ache clawing at my chest.

I squeeze the fabric tighter, as if I could crush the feeling away, as if I could vanish inside it, disappear before the weight of everything crushes me instead.

...─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───...

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