What Makes A Monster - Chapter 12

There was one fundamental difference between Imperials and non-Imperials, i.e. everyone else. Imperials were unrestricted in zorne while non-Imperials were not.

Of the three elements; earth, water, air; people usually had an affinity to only one. Two would make one go insane and three would indicate they have inherited Imperial blood. The basis of Imperial power was the heredity of unrestricted zorne; omnidexterous zorne that needed not confine itself in one element. Along with the advantage of having larger than average zorne pools, control of solids, liquids and gases were simultaneously possible for Imperials. Not to mention manipulating the conversion from one state of being to another.

It came to no big surprise when Imyra was informed that Olivia was unrestricted in her zorne. She already had the hereditary black hair and grey eyes. How could she be anything but a hidden-away Imperial? The question was only, who were her parents?

Olivia’s studies in molecular recognition and bonding had not been progressing far. Although she’d improved by and leaps and bounds at weakening bonds, her bond strengthening skills were abysmal.

Imyra could take no pride from Olivia’s bond weakening skills either, because the woman had known how to weaken bonds long before Imyra had come along. Rather than Imyra teaching her anything, the past weeks had been more akin to the two women distilling liquid after liquid and separating the different gas particles into different containers like over-qualified factory workers.

The job description Unani had initially given her was to teach Olivia how to strengthen and weaken bonds and practice the transformation of chemical properties with her through the various substances they were given each day. But with Imyra being the Residence’s newbie, it hadn’t taken long for her to be delegated to an assisting position where she just did as Olivia said. It was Olivia after all who knew what the different chemicals and substances were and how they needed to be separated. Imyra did not push to take charge because nine out of ten times, the substances were highly poisonous and/or corrosive. Listening to the expert seemed like the better idea.

One day, Chennae summoned Imyra and changed the nature of these lab-sessions and upended the previously established hierarchy, “I neglected to remember that the child needs to touch up on the basics and her foundation. Since you both have the Imperial talents, you teach her some more efficient ways of wielding zorne. I will await your good results.”

As with all things that came out of Chennae’s mouth, her statement was unreliable and a vast understatement of the real state of Olivia’s zorne wielding ability. The woman did not need to touch up on her foundations, she didn’t have any foundations at all.

“What have you been doing all your life that you haven’t received formal zorne lessons?” Imyra asked clutching her forehead, exasperated on the first day.

“I’ve had zorne lessons…” Olivia replied, “but they weren’t formal, nor did I learn anything about the theoretical. I only know how to apply it.”

Olivia spoke innocently without a trace of remorse. But even people who’d been terrible students at school weren’t as inefficient in their zorne expenditure like her. Perhaps the only reason she’d been able to survive to this point was because her zorne pool was rather large, most likely curtesy of her Imperial bloodline.

“Okay, first of all, describe it. In your own words, explain to me what zorne is.”

Olivia thought for a split second before answering with model-student grin that Imyra could only think was greatly out of place, “The art of remotely controlling objects?”

“That’s one of the things you can do with zorne, not what it is. Just tell me what it feels like to you.”

“What is feels like… erm… an intangible slimy substance that can become tangible when I put the thought into it.”

“Slimy?”

“Yeah, like a load of slimy goo that keeps slipping about.”

Imyra’s jaw slackened, “Don’t tell me you’ve been wielding zorne like this all your life? Seriously, didn’t they give you an education at all where you’re from? Someone here should have at least taught you better. This is the kind of thing I had to rectify when I was eight. No, younger than that.”

“Can you tell me what I’ve been doing wrong, instead of just complaining about it?”

Imyra gave her a short stare before agreeing, “Indeed it’s too late to worry about your lack of education. It might be more difficult to break your habits now, as an adult, but that’s all we can do.” She shook her head, “Your zorne stream is too dense, that’s why it feels sluggish and slow. You’re asserting more force than necessary and also more than you can reliably control, so it feels like you’re wrestling with the zorne to make it do your bidding but when it does heed to your commands it moves too fast and too destructive.”

Olivia nodded several times with wide eyes, her face spelling out her fascination, “Wow, you’re completely right. That’s exactly how it is.”

“You’ve probably been making all your streams too dense. How many streams can you control at a time?”

Olivia tilted her head to the side, “Stream?”

“You’re kidding.”

The face of the jet-haired woman displayed a small sheepish smile as she shook her head. Imyra exhaled loudly. She looked around the room and proceeded to use a stream of zorne to lift a pen in front of her and made it spin.

“This is the work of one thin zorne stream.” Next, Imyra grabbed the chair behind Olivia with another zorne stream and lifted it high into the air. She added bobbing movements to it, to make it more amusing. “This, of two zorne streams.” Then came a book, a water bottle, the water inside the bottle, more pens and several separate sheets of paper that began folding themselves into little animal figurines. “And this is the work of twelve simultaneous zorne streams.” Imyra topped up her display with a smug grin, “The zorne pool is used by dividing it into streams as you let it flow out of yourself. Streams are the art of multitasking, as my own teacher liked to call it.”

“I get what you mean by stream, but…” Olivia nodded but her eyebrows pulled together as she added, “Imyra, don’t overdo it just because you want to show off. I can see the sweat running down the side of your face. It’s okay, I get that you’re capable, already. You can let go now.”

“Sweat is a natural phenomenon that occurs when you concentrate.”

“Yeah, I get it. So don’t talk to me while you’re controlling all those…streams. There’s no need to split your concentration even further. No, seriously, oi.”

Imyra did not listen to her advice.

Not long after, the room become a magnificent display of an everyday-object firework. First, the spinning pen veered into Olivia’s face and hit her square on the forehead and almost simultaneously, the dancing chair bounced off Olivia’s shoulder before clattering to the floor. Next, the cloud of water that was playfully shifting its shape and jumping around the air exploded, spraying water over both Olivia and Imyra. The bottle which was supposed to be the container of the water and the book that had been flipping through its pages in mid-air fell with a loud splash on the desk between the two women, spraying them a second time, albeit smaller. The book landed on its open pages, turning a number of its sheets into indecipherable ink smears, as a blue tint spread into the water puddle in pretty patterns. The other pens fell clattering or splashing on the floor. In comparison, the little paper animals fell quietly, one on Olivia’s head, one on Imyra’s lap and the other on the wet floor.

After the last paper penguin fell, a silence descended on the room.

Olivia was the first to break it, blinking a few time times before speaking with a wronged expression.

“I want to file for abuse.”

Imyra found it amusing how Olivia always obsessed with such law terminology when she was living in such a lawless residence. There was no court of justice, prosecutor or defence attorney. The only equivalent would be to snitch to Chennae or Unani and wait for a millennia for them to care.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Olivia turned an accusatory gaze at Imyra.

“…that uh, was a very good example of what happens when you go overcapacity and lose control. That’ll be it, for today’s lesson.” Imyra called out as she speedily flew out of the room through an open window.

She didn’t like to admit it out loud, but she had a very healthy fear of Olivia. Physical conflict with her was to be avoided at all costs.

She looked back and sighed in relief. Olivia wasn’t following after her.

Their first zorne lesson was cut very short.

Just as her relief was short-lived.

Truly, it was folly to be comforted by the lack of chase.

The next morning, when it was Olivia’s turn to teach and Imyra’s turn to learn, Olivia was thrice as strict as the days before. The drills were thrice as long and the difficulty of the exercises were thrice as hard. She vomited several times that day because the exertion was too much for her body, but Olivia had no mercy. She even made her clean up her own vomit.

This was true abuse of authority.

But it was not all bad. After all, when afternoon came about, it was Imyra’s turn to abuse her authority as a teacher to the limits. And Olivia’s abysmal control of her own zorne gave her plenty of reason to.

However, Olivia thrived under the abuse. Coaxing her to work and learn hard with pretty purple prose and loving care would have never worked and Imyra wasn’t capable of it. No, she was capable of it, but trying that on Olivia felt like an insult to both their intelligence. So really, she was doing her a favour by being the strictest teacher she could be.

Every day was a cycle of petty revenge.