interjected with “She can only
heal injuries.” “All I ask is that she try,” retorted Smith. Terra
released her grip from the .45 pistol that still lay in its holster
and stared at Smith. “Just look straight to your target and
concentrate.” Terra let out an aggravated sigh and looked to the
wooden object Smith expected her to destroy, thinking as hard as
she could. She thought back to when she pushed that imperial
soldier out the window and he flew several yards away when he was
twice her size. She felt her palms tingle. Maybe if I use my hands like a gun, she thought. She stretched her arms in front of her and
pointed her palms toward the wooden structure. The object twitched
for a moment, like the last bowling pin that always stays up when
it looks as if its going to fall, then she closed her eyes and
strained her mind to obey her will. She heard a loud crash. When
she opened her eyes, the object that was once twenty feet from the
wall was now lying next to it on its side. “Coooool, ” wooed
Ruthie. “Good,” said Smith, “Now, lift it.” Ruthie looked over at
him still smiling a little, “You mean with…” “Yes,” responded
Smith, “With your mind.” Terra pointed her palms once more at the
object and strained her head so intensely that she felt as if she
were going to break a blood vessel behind her eye. “Come on Ter,”
whispered Ruthie to herself. “Mmmmm, “ groaned Terra. The object
kept rolling itself into the wall periodically. “You’re pushing!
Lift!” yelled Smith. Terra was getting annoyed at being told what
to do: as if moving things with your mind is the most natural thing
in the world to him. She kept straining for several minutes with
Smith’s words constantly badgering her self-esteem. “Lift, dammit!”
Smith kept yelling. Terra was red in the face; here eyes were
narrow, teeth grinding against one another with a loud squeak with
each grind. “Lift!!!” yelled Smith again. Terra’s ears were raw
with his constant yelling. Terra was done. “Shut up!” she yelled as
she thrust her fingers forward. A red stream shot out of each set
of five fingers hitting the object on it’s side which was against
the floor. A geyser of flame erupted from underneath it lifting it
ten feet in the air. When it dropped, the wooden object was
engulfed in flame around its now black surface. Terra and Ruthie
jumped back in unison. “Whoa!” yelled Ruthie as Terra just stared
blankly at what she had created just out of anger, Good thing I wasn’t facing Smith just
now.
After Smith put out the crimson flames with
a white powder they kept in the training room for emergencies, they
exited and walked into the main dining room where people ate and
conjugated. “Good work Terra, really great,” commended Smith to
Terra, “Sorry for yelling back there, but I needed you to push
everything else out of your mind. That’s how these spells work;
they are created by channeling your body, mind, and spirit into a
single force unstoppable force.” “Yeah, that’s what I read,” chimed
in Ruthie.
When they reached the main room near the
entrance they saw a small group of people crowded around something.
“Dammit! Give him some room!” yelled Pearl dramatically. The crowd
backed away and Terra, Ruthie, and Smith could now see what the
fuss was about; Pearl, Clyde, and Ray were back from their mission.
In the corner, the black shepherd was whining in his big dog voice,
“It’s okay, Hans,” said it’s master. The three of them were side by
side; Pearl and Ray were holding up Clyde who was in the middle.
Clyde’s blue bandana that once was a clothing garments atop his
head was now being used to pressurize the wound on his right
shoulder, but blood still dripped through the blood soaked cloth
turning it violet purple. Ruthie was in shock at the sight of her
brother. Aside from the shoulder wound, Clyde had gunshot wounds in
his right shin, upper left leg, and the very center of his
heal injuries.” “All I ask is that she try,” retorted Smith. Terra
released her grip from the .45 pistol that still lay in its holster
and stared at Smith. “Just look straight to your target and
concentrate.” Terra let out an aggravated sigh and looked to the
wooden object Smith expected her to destroy, thinking as hard as
she could. She thought back to when she pushed that imperial
soldier out the window and he flew several yards away when he was
twice her size. She felt her palms tingle. Maybe if I use my hands like a gun, she thought. She stretched her arms in front of her and
pointed her palms toward the wooden structure. The object twitched
for a moment, like the last bowling pin that always stays up when
it looks as if its going to fall, then she closed her eyes and
strained her mind to obey her will. She heard a loud crash. When
she opened her eyes, the object that was once twenty feet from the
wall was now lying next to it on its side. “Coooool, ” wooed
Ruthie. “Good,” said Smith, “Now, lift it.” Ruthie looked over at
him still smiling a little, “You mean with…” “Yes,” responded
Smith, “With your mind.” Terra pointed her palms once more at the
object and strained her head so intensely that she felt as if she
were going to break a blood vessel behind her eye. “Come on Ter,”
whispered Ruthie to herself. “Mmmmm, “ groaned Terra. The object
kept rolling itself into the wall periodically. “You’re pushing!
Lift!” yelled Smith. Terra was getting annoyed at being told what
to do: as if moving things with your mind is the most natural thing
in the world to him. She kept straining for several minutes with
Smith’s words constantly badgering her self-esteem. “Lift, dammit!”
Smith kept yelling. Terra was red in the face; here eyes were
narrow, teeth grinding against one another with a loud squeak with
each grind. “Lift!!!” yelled Smith again. Terra’s ears were raw
with his constant yelling. Terra was done. “Shut up!” she yelled as
she thrust her fingers forward. A red stream shot out of each set
of five fingers hitting the object on it’s side which was against
the floor. A geyser of flame erupted from underneath it lifting it
ten feet in the air. When it dropped, the wooden object was
engulfed in flame around its now black surface. Terra and Ruthie
jumped back in unison. “Whoa!” yelled Ruthie as Terra just stared
blankly at what she had created just out of anger, Good thing I wasn’t facing Smith just
now.
After Smith put out the crimson flames with
a white powder they kept in the training room for emergencies, they
exited and walked into the main dining room where people ate and
conjugated. “Good work Terra, really great,” commended Smith to
Terra, “Sorry for yelling back there, but I needed you to push
everything else out of your mind. That’s how these spells work;
they are created by channeling your body, mind, and spirit into a
single force unstoppable force.” “Yeah, that’s what I read,” chimed
in Ruthie.
When they reached the main room near the
entrance they saw a small group of people crowded around something.
“Dammit! Give him some room!” yelled Pearl dramatically. The crowd
backed away and Terra, Ruthie, and Smith could now see what the
fuss was about; Pearl, Clyde, and Ray were back from their mission.
In the corner, the black shepherd was whining in his big dog voice,
“It’s okay, Hans,” said it’s master. The three of them were side by
side; Pearl and Ray were holding up Clyde who was in the middle.
Clyde’s blue bandana that once was a clothing garments atop his
head was now being used to pressurize the wound on his right
shoulder, but blood still dripped through the blood soaked cloth
turning it violet purple. Ruthie was in shock at the sight of her
brother. Aside from the shoulder wound, Clyde had gunshot wounds in
his right shin, upper left leg, and the very center of his
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