all of the printing looking like an esoteric language she hadn’t yet mastered, the pen in her hand hopelessly abstract. She felt a sob growing in her chest once more and stifled it ruthlessly, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. She was an air elemental, she told herself firmly. She embodied language and knowledge. She could get through this. She opened her eyes and the words cleared before her. Aira began filling out the forms in numb shock, succumbing to the demands of the moment. She knew all of the information required; she had copies of the relevant identification put aside in her wallet weeks before. Aira finished the forms and handed them to the nurse, who disappeared into the ER with them.
Dylan sat one side, Aiden on the other. Aira felt icy, cold calm wash through her and realized Dylan was touching her arm, pushing his energy into her to sustain her in the moment.
“I’m sure she’ll be okay,” Dylan said quietly. “This is a really good hospital.”
Aira stared at him, torn between rage and bitter sadness.
“No,” she said hoarsely. “You and I both know she’s not going to be okay.” Aira’s breath hitched in her throat and she coughed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “She’s dying. There’s nothing they can do to save her.” She looked at Dylan, wanting to crumple into a heap on the floor; between the intense, jarring pain of her back and knees and the emotional upheaval she felt, Aira thought she couldn’t possibly stand a moment more.
Outside, the wind began to howl. The lights flickered and startled voices rose. Aira realized, in a pain induced stupor, that she was provoking a terrible windstorm—one that could knock out the power, though a hospital as big and important as this one definitely had generators. She calmed herself down harshly, tears stinging and burning as they fell from her eyes. “Get a hold of yourself, girl,” she heard in her mind, her grandmother’s firm voice giving a command she had heard so many times in her life. “You’re better than this. Don’t you dare throw a tantrum.” Aira pushed her will outward, finding the wind and orienting herself with it, breathing slowly and steadily to dispel the gale and bring the wind speed down to normal. It took effort and several minutes, while the lights flickered two more times, startling the staff and patients alike, before the weather returned to normal once more.
“Excuse me,” she heard Aiden saying stridently several feet away. He was standing at the admitting desk, and when she looked at him, she saw him crackling with energy—fierce, orange-red energy that mimicked the fire that made up his essence. “Could someone please see to my friend? She’s in a lot of pain and stress.” One of the nurses came up, ready to dismiss Aiden, but Aira watched as he seemed to grow larger, staring the woman down. “Give me a god damned clipboard so I can get my friend into your system. Her grandmother is having a heart attack and she’s pulled out her back—your coffee break can wait.” The woman handed over a clipboard and Aiden came quickly back to Aira’s side. “Give me your stuff,” he said, barely looking at her as he sat down with the clipboard and pen. Aira handed over her wallet in nervous hands, trembling from the effort to keep her energy contained, and the stress and anguish she felt.
Aiden filled out her paperwork as Aira sat waiting for her own name to be called and to receive information about her grandmother. She managed to make a few phone calls, alerting the most important members of her family to the situation, and fell into a stupor, the pain gnawing up her back. It took every effort Aira could expend to keep her energy from flowing out of control, to keep herself calm enough to prevent the wind rising once more. She stared at the abysmal mural on the wall, counting brush strokes, impervious to everything going on around her as she continued to wait. She had never
Dylan sat one side, Aiden on the other. Aira felt icy, cold calm wash through her and realized Dylan was touching her arm, pushing his energy into her to sustain her in the moment.
“I’m sure she’ll be okay,” Dylan said quietly. “This is a really good hospital.”
Aira stared at him, torn between rage and bitter sadness.
“No,” she said hoarsely. “You and I both know she’s not going to be okay.” Aira’s breath hitched in her throat and she coughed, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “She’s dying. There’s nothing they can do to save her.” She looked at Dylan, wanting to crumple into a heap on the floor; between the intense, jarring pain of her back and knees and the emotional upheaval she felt, Aira thought she couldn’t possibly stand a moment more.
Outside, the wind began to howl. The lights flickered and startled voices rose. Aira realized, in a pain induced stupor, that she was provoking a terrible windstorm—one that could knock out the power, though a hospital as big and important as this one definitely had generators. She calmed herself down harshly, tears stinging and burning as they fell from her eyes. “Get a hold of yourself, girl,” she heard in her mind, her grandmother’s firm voice giving a command she had heard so many times in her life. “You’re better than this. Don’t you dare throw a tantrum.” Aira pushed her will outward, finding the wind and orienting herself with it, breathing slowly and steadily to dispel the gale and bring the wind speed down to normal. It took effort and several minutes, while the lights flickered two more times, startling the staff and patients alike, before the weather returned to normal once more.
“Excuse me,” she heard Aiden saying stridently several feet away. He was standing at the admitting desk, and when she looked at him, she saw him crackling with energy—fierce, orange-red energy that mimicked the fire that made up his essence. “Could someone please see to my friend? She’s in a lot of pain and stress.” One of the nurses came up, ready to dismiss Aiden, but Aira watched as he seemed to grow larger, staring the woman down. “Give me a god damned clipboard so I can get my friend into your system. Her grandmother is having a heart attack and she’s pulled out her back—your coffee break can wait.” The woman handed over a clipboard and Aiden came quickly back to Aira’s side. “Give me your stuff,” he said, barely looking at her as he sat down with the clipboard and pen. Aira handed over her wallet in nervous hands, trembling from the effort to keep her energy contained, and the stress and anguish she felt.
Aiden filled out her paperwork as Aira sat waiting for her own name to be called and to receive information about her grandmother. She managed to make a few phone calls, alerting the most important members of her family to the situation, and fell into a stupor, the pain gnawing up her back. It took every effort Aira could expend to keep her energy from flowing out of control, to keep herself calm enough to prevent the wind rising once more. She stared at the abysmal mural on the wall, counting brush strokes, impervious to everything going on around her as she continued to wait. She had never
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