Bright, blinding white is what filled Erica's view when she came to. She was staring at a smooth stone ceiling, with an intense lamp hanging from it. It bathed her vision in uncompromising light, along with the rest of the room. She was propped partway up against the back of a bed, so was able to survey the rest of the room once her eyes adjusted. The room was largely bare, made of the same smooth stone as the ceiling, with bedside tables, a wooden door to her left and a small window to her right. Her right...
Erica lifted her left arm over her chest and attempted to grab her other bicep, to be interrupted by a tugging sensation in her hand. It was then she noticed that an intravenous drip was there, the tubing pulling slightly against its binding. Desperate for any distraction, she followed the tubing up to a glass vial of what she presumed to be blood hanging from a metal pole and feeding the drip. She must have been in a hospital, given the sterile environment and the gown she was wearing. On top of the gown and covering her legs was a plain, easy to clean blanket. A momentary panic set in as she remembered the matrix maigum. Where was it? She awkwardly fumbled for her pocket, the IV making it difficult to move without pain. It seemed they didn't remove her pants after admitting her, and the matrix was in the pocket where she left it. Breathing the smallest sigh of relief, her adrenaline spiked again when her eyes settled on the far right corner of the room.
A man was sitting there in a simple wooden chair. He was clad in a high collared brown military longcoat, somewhat baggy black pants, and combat boots. He sat with arms crossed, regarding her with an intense gaze. Messy black hair but a clean shave made Erica question just how military this man was. His face didn't have the harsh look of a man used to tough conditions, but it wasn't soft like her brother's either. Then she noticed a hint of faint blue on his chest, and saw it was connected to a silver chain hanging from his neck.
"How long have you been there?" Erica demanded, finding her throat dry, "How long have I been here?"
"Long enough," the man said, his voice a moderate, serious tone, "especially given that I have other things I need to tend to."
"Sorry that creepily staring at me while I'm unconscious wasn't as timely as you'd like," Erica replied, "While you're here, could I get some water? I'm dying here."
The man didn't move for a while, before picking himself up from the chair and walking out the door. Just as Erica thought she may be rid of him, he reappeared with a kroll nurse. The kroll were an intelligent race of reptiles, on par with humans in terms of height when on their two hind legs. They had stubby limbs, long snouts, and tails that dragged behind them as they walked. Stocky necks and a wider torso make them look a bit tubby, but there was mostly muscle underneath the folds of scaly grey skin. Wearing a medical smock over a pink dress, the nurse clutched a glass of water and a hand bell in its claws as it hurried to Erica's bedside. Erica noticed the nurse kept looking back at the man nervously.
"Excuse me, where am I?" Erica asked.
"You're in the Zellas hospital. Here you go, miss," The nurse said in an equatorial drawl, handing Erica the glass, "and I'll leave this bell on your bedside table here. Don't be afraid to ring it if you need anything, alright?"
"Thank you," Erica didn't miss the pointedness of the nurse's comment about the bell, seeming to aim it at this stranger who was for whatever reason permitted to just sit in the room with her. He'd returned to his chair, but his gaze still sat on Erica. The kroll woman gave her a concerned look as she left, leaving Erica and the stranger alone again. She took a sip of the water, relishing the removal of the parched feeling in her throat, before setting the glass down and looking at the man. "What do you want?"
"Do you know who I am?" He asked, a genuine question without a hint of arrogance.
"I have an idea," Erica answered warily.
The man sighed, "Does the name 'Damon Arbiter' mean anything to you?"
"Rings a bell."
"I understand you've been through a lot, but you don't have to be difficult. I'm not here to hurt you. How much do you remember of last night?"
Her parents' deaths flashed before her eyes. Wielding lightning, the mountain of a man, the flash of steel...
She made to grab her right arm, only finding air as her hand closes over where her good arm once was.
"I should have died..." Erica said between shallow breaths, "Why am I still here...?"
"To put it simply, because I saved you."
"How? Angor-"
"Decided you weren't worth the trouble when I showed up. After fending him off, I tended to your shoulder, though didn't have the time to do anything about your cheek. When it was safe enough, I had you brought here, and you've been asleep until now."
Erica brought her remaining hand to her cheek, where a wad of gauze was taped over the wound she suffered there. "What about Copperwood? What's left of it?"
Damon shook his head. "Mostly smoking ruins, and more bodies than I'd care to admit. To be blunt, I failed Copperwood. The Altean Army was too late to prevent what happened, and we were only able to save a small fraction of the population. I understand that things would have been worse if it weren't for you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You were able to take down a large contingent of Diezens, though I disagree strongly with the handling of the cultists..."
"It was us or them! They didn't leave me a choice!"
"Subduing them non-lethally would have been preferable, but given what happened after the Diezens were gone, I doubt you were capable of that."
Erica fell silent, the memory of the power that ran through her running out of control at the worst possible moment consuming her mind.
Damon's expression softened, and after taking a moment he continued, "What happened wasn't your fault. In fact, that's why I'm still here, in this hospital room, rather than hunting down Diezen activity. Shapers usually have plenty of time to learn to control their abilities, but you were like a child discovering they could channel maiga for the first time, experimenting and causing all kinds of damage. Thankfully, most of it was to Diezens."
"If you're trying to make me feel better, you're doing a shit job," Erica mumbled, still feeling for an arm that wasn't there.
"Right, sorry," Damon said quickly, "What I'm trying to get at is, you only recently became a shaper, yes?"
"I suppose."
"You realize that simply does not happen? You're either born a shaper, or you aren't. There is no 'late blooming' when it comes to this. Yet here you are, a woman who struggled with charging all her life, suddenly channeling more power than the average trained shaper."
"Where are you getting all this personal info on me?" Erica asked sullenly, looking for a reason to kick Damon out of the room.
"I asked the survivors what happened, and for some background regarding you. It's not like I have your life story, but I know enough to say that you are an unusual case, at least as of last night."
"So what, I'm some sort of freak? I don't know why this happened either! Why are you here?"
"I'm here to make sure the tragedy of last night does not repeat itself, at least as far as your shaping goes."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Erica slumped into the bed, "I want to go home..."
"I'm afraid I have to say no to that," Damon said, gravity setting into his words, "I can't risk have a wild shaper running rampant the way you did earlier. No, as of now, you will be learning under me."
"Excuse me?" Erica balked, "You don't give me orders! Get out!"
Damon ignored the demand. "You would become a member of the Altean Army. You'd have everything you need, and can do more with your new power than you could imagine as a village guard. Once you have a handle on your powers, I can make a functional prost-"
"I said get out!" Erica shouted, grabbing the hand bell and ringing it. Damon sat back with a frustrated exhalation as the kroll nurse poked her head in.
"Is everything alright, miss?"
"I want him gone! He's disrupting my recovery!" Erica yelled, tears starting to well in her eyes as the memories of last night mingled with the stress of hearing what Damon had to say.
The nurse looked between them, clearly uncomfortable, "I-I'm sorry, miss, but I can't do that."
"Why not?!"
"Because his vow to protect the hospital is the only reason we could agree to treat you. You have to understand, everyone is terrified you might... explode or something, we can't have what happened in Copperwood happen here..."
"So I'm just a ticking time bomb then? Why bother saving me?!" The tears started to roll down Erica's cheeks, being absorbed by the gauze on her left. She could feel the energy inside her agitating, starting to rise against her will.
"Because you are capable of so much more," Damon stood, taking one step toward Erica, "You just need a teacher. And right now, you have the leader of the Altean Army offering to guide you. That's not something anyone else has been able to say."
"I don't want to be... more!" Erica fumbled, looking for a better word but finding none, "I want to go home! ... I want my family..."
Damon and the nurse fell silent, unsure what to say. Eventually, Erica started to feel drained, her energy sapped by the strain of emotion.
"Tell me," she said softly, looking Damon in the eye, "did my brother make it out? A man named Rico Blaine?"
"I'm sorry, I couldn't say," Damon apologized, "But I didn't encounter anyone by that name in my inquiries. He was mentioned as your brother, but beyond that I don't know anything about him."
Erica started sobbing, unable to hold it back any longer. She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arm around them. "Oh gods, what have I done...?"
She tuned out the world then, consumed by her grief. So many gone, in one night. So much taken from her in a few moments. She was vaguely aware of the nurse gently uncurling her and laying her back down, of Damon fading into the background. The light was turned off, and Erica wept herself into a restless slumber.
