Unsuspecting victims are my favorite. They never imagine for a moment that I will truly have my revenge.
They believe they can get away with giving me the menial tasks of a servant girl instead of the errands fitting an ambassador’s daughter.
It was my father’s idea for me to learn more about my special gift. Mama made it worse with her insistence.
Now I am stuck sweeping floors because I dared to use my position for better arrangements.
My teacher is a man that outdates this century. Master Drogan believes that every student is equal and that every action has either consequence or reward.
That is so old-fashioned.
All I did was state my opinion of that wretched girl in arithmetic and he retracted my gift and ordered me to clean out the holding room. He says I need to learn to control the little power I have along with my tongue.
No wonder it is called a holding room, even the air is stifling.
Smudged walls and dirty floors surround the perfect glass box to showcase The Orb.
It is the heart central of all energies for this school. This must be where Drogan put my gift.
Oh how I wish I had it.
Levitation is one of the most prized gifts on the planet of Marrin.
With my gift, I could easily set this broom to sweep the floor and these cloths to clean the walls.
I could also sit outside by the door and breathe the clean air without having to lift a finger.
My hands are sore, my feet and my back ache.
The Orb is so bright.
Horrible Master Drogan warned me to stay away from it. He says it is far too powerful and that even a lifetime of training couldn’t prepare any one person to control that much free energy.
I think he wants it all for his pompous self.
The broom and cloth rags are set aside as I tiptoe to the showcase.
Surely no one will notice if I just open the edge enough to retrieve my gift. My gift is so deeply embedded that all I’d have to do is touch the Orb. That would make the perfect revenge.
My fingers tremble as the cover slid away.
It is so beautiful.
A sudden wind takes my breath away.
Before I can begin to puzzle fresh air in this prison-hole, I am seized by something I cannot describe.
Every fiber of my being is transformed into the most torturous pain imaginable.
My mind struggles in vain to comprehend the fact that I have completely absorbed the entire Orb.
I cannot scream. I cannot cry. I cannot even discern my own gift.
The door bursts open. “Veruka!” Master Drogan forces me to sit on the floor.
I can hardly see his face.
He mutters words I cannot understand and the pain is lifted by a fraction.
He repeats them until I feel the fire fade.
I am helpless to escape the scolding that follows.
He now shares the energy and the responsibility.
“You will clean this room from top to bottom.” He says, calm. “Do not even think of resisting.” Golden energy shimmers at his finger tips.
My will is no longer my own.
Because of the shared energy, I am at his mercy.
Feet shuffle to the wall and my hands pick up the broom. I begin to sweep the floor with patience that is not mine.
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