Chapter 9 - First Lessons - III

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  "Hold out your finger like this."

  "You're just flipping it off."

  "I do what works, okay?"

  "I just feel like it should be more like this," Alden shot back. He shifted his fingers into a position that felt more natural to him. "Is it really just all about hand movements?"

  "Nah." Rika took his hand and adjusted his fingers back to their original position. She was wearing a pair of comfortable thin black gloves to dampen her residual electricity, but he could still feel it flowing faintly through the fabric. "Now, look at the paper. Push your will out into it."

  He tried. Alden had no clue what that meant, but he tried to force his mind to take hold of the paper and shove it aside.

  It didn't budge.

  "It's not working," he sighed aloud.

  "Maybe... Try projecting an image. Something mental, like an invisible hand," Rika suggested. "Imagine you have an arm extending out from your brain and let that do the grabbing." It sounded ridiculous to Alden; then again, he had zero experience here, while Rika could send blades of grass flying around the riverbank easily.

  After waking up in the empty apartment, Alden had barely time to get dressed and showered before Rika was already banging on his door, a bag of fresh doughnuts in hand. An hour later, they'd gone back to the riverbank near the bridge where the entrance to the Market sat concealed only a few dozen meters away. Rika claimed it was just a nice, usually empty place, but Alden suspected she was lying in wait for Kendra or Lily to emerge from the Market. He wondered if they'd even bother to exit from the bridge, given how the Market seemed linked to so many other places around town, but brushed the thought away. He had more pressing concerns, like his complete inability to move the lone sheet of paper sitting on the sidewalk in front of them.

  Alden did as she suggested, imagining a ghostly hand stretching out from where he sat to grasp the paper. As it did, he twisted his fingers sharply.

  The paper fluttered. Was it just the wind? No, it had matched his fingers so precisely. He felt elated, until the wave hit him.

  From the tip of his finger all the way up his arm, he felt his muscles drain like he'd been lifting heavy weights for hours. His arm fell limp to his side, practically numb from exertion. He gasped involuntarily. It was a strange feeling. The paper had moved instantly, and he'd felt nothing, but only a moment later the effort he'd put out struck him like a truck barrelling down the highway.

  He collapsed back onto the soft grass slope.

  "Good shit, huh?" Rika smirked.

  "Now I know why you brought this blanket," Alden said, still winded.

  "Well, you're definitely a movement guy. Took me days to get the paper to lift off the ground at all." She sounded a touch jealous.

  "It's nothing like your lightning," he put in abashedly.

  She looked at him with scorn. "Don't patronize me."

  "Sorry." He turned back to the paper, eager to try again.

  "Hold up there, Zack-ey. Give yourself a moment," Rika cried out, but it was too late. Alden was already twisting his fingers once more, and the paper fluttered, hovering in midair. He shot a grin at Rika, and was awake just long enough to see a frown begin to crease her eyebrows before his world went black.

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