These past two weeks, she’d really just wanted to be left alone, and for the most part, she’d been granted that. It was just too much. Everything. She wasn’t ready to think of herself as the responsible one, as the one who had to try to fill the unfillable chasms left by Mama and Papa and Cisco and even Gema. It was all wrong. All of it.
And then there was this training. It was the only thing she knew how to do, the only thing that seemed even remotely worth thinking about. And yet, her ability still terrified her. She hadn’t dared try to invoke it again, even though she knew that was the end goal here.
Training meant more than just meditating, however. It also required laborious study of anatomy and physiology. She’d always enjoyed biology, but she’d never studied it with this much rigor or sense of obligation.
Mutation was so strange. Unlike transfiguration and materialization, it didn’t rely on any particular elements. Rather, it stemmed from the formation and manipulation of biological molecules--proteins, in particular. Hers had manifested with keratin, according to Chergoa, which was apparently a common starting point for mutation users.
‘Some people call mutation “the anything power,” because in theory, you can use it to modify your body in any way you can imagine,’ the reaper had told her. ‘Now, that’s not QUITE true, but the sentiment is fairly accurate. For instance, with proper control, you could grow entirely new limbs--even wings, if you wanted. You could breathe fire. You could sharpen your senses, your reflexes, even make yourself more intelligent, potentially. Though, don’t try that last one, unless you’re extremely confident in your capabilities. Messing with your own brain is probably the most dangerous thing you can possibly do.’
Emiliana was in no rush to mess with anything.
‘Oh, and when you think you’re ready, you should start practicing on your non-dominant hand. I know it sounds kinda terrible, but at least that way, if you make a mistake, the damage won’t be too bad.’