conceal [ability one shot]

[ASTRID ALVA ABRAHAMSSON]

Fat flakes of pure white snow floated down from the sky, swirling and twirling in dizzying patterns. Astrid held a mittened hand out, watching as the crystals landed on the wool. She peered closely at the fluffy white droplets, discerning the difference in each figure. Astrid had always been fascinated with snow, and living in the outskirts of Stockholm meant she had ample opportunity to play in it.

With a shake of her hand, Astrid tottered off deeper into the forest behind her house. Last night had been the first big snowfall of the season, and she wasn’t going to miss out on the freshly fallen chance to play pretend. She was not unlike the rest of the children her age, crooning about castles and princesses and evil dragons and making something out of nothing. But the youngest Abrahamsson child, at just five years old (nearly six! Astrid would often qualify), was sheltered more than most.

Since last year, Astrid’s parents had her practicing the cello day and night. Astrid had quickly learned not to complain, because after an hour of cello practice she was allowed to play outside. She had no use for video games or dolls - she could create adventure just using her own mind.

With a peal of laughter, Astrid jumped into a huge snow drift, covering herself completely in snow. She tunneled through the snow, poking her head out the other side. Her nose felt very much like it might fall off! She rubbed it with a warm hand, then considered the pristine snow before her. This was perfect snowman making snow.

Astrid gathered up a ball of snow in her hand, trying to form the base of a snowman. She found it difficult to maneuver with her fingers all jumbled up in her mittens. Her mother had warned her to take good care of her hands, because they were essential for playing the cello. Well, Astrid thought to herself, she would just take the mittens off for a moment. Just to make her snowman. He would be the grandest snowman she had ever made! And then she would put her mittens back on, and no one would be any the wiser.

In one grand sweep, Astrid discarded those thoughtfully crafted mittens, and shoved her hands into the snow. But instead of feeling cold, the most peculiar thing had happened.

Astrid’s hands started to feel… funny. At such a young age, she couldn’t find the word to really express it. But looking back on the memory in many years time, Astrid knew that the feeling was raw magic pulsing through her palms. There was not a hint of redness anywhere on her hands. And a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind, urging her to look within herself to discover the power. Though confused, Astrid did as the voice said, discovering a well filled with snowfall, ice and delight. Humming with pleasure, Astrid cupped her hands. A ball of ice and snow formed in an instant, a faint blue light radiating from her hands as she did so.

Gasping at what she had done, Astrid dropped her hands. The ball didn’t fall, or even disappear. It seemed that with the slightest hint of fear, it grew. It pulsed with that same blue light, inviting her to explore this newfound power. Astrid chewed on her lip, peering closely at the little ball. It rotated on some sort of axis, as if waiting for some sort of instruction. She glanced down at her hands, and shrieked. A faint blue light was emanating from them, wisps of something that looked like steam curling off her finger tips. But other than that, her hands didn’t look any different. Astrid flipped her hands over, mouth agape, inspecting the sudden change. This had never happened before!

The ball still hovered in midair, though Astrid was no longer afraid of it. She held her hands up, palms out. Lowering her mind into that peculiar well within her, she added more snow and ice to the ball, until it was twice the size of her head. She thrust her hands further out and the ball soared ten metres away, landing with a thud on the frozen ground. But it did not fall apart on impact. It remained perched, looking perfectly like the bottom half of a snowman.

Could she… could she do it again? Astrid glanced down at her hands. The well within her was still brimming with unused power. She cupped her hands and found herself humming once more. This time, the ball of snow and ice grew more quickly. Astrid stopped abruptly, and so did the growth of the ball. She dropped her hands, but the ball did not fall. She stood up, and the ball rose with her. She twirled her hand around, and the ball spun around its axis more quickly. “Cool,” murmured the little girl to herself. She thrusted her hand out and the ball joined the first to form a snowman.

Giggling, Astrid poked eyes and a crooked smile into the snowman. She wondered what else she could do with this exciting control over frozen things. Astrid spun around in the snow, palms up, thick sheets of snow falling onto her pink cheeks. She twisted her arms in a random configuration, humming and imagining a lovely, fat snowman. He sprung into existence, that faint blue glow emanating from him.

Again and again, Astrid sprung snowmen from the ground. Her shouts of laughter could be heard from her home, and her father came to investigate. Astrid quickly shoved her mittens on as she heard someone approaching, not yet ready to share her excitement. It was like a delicious secret, and Astrid wanted to keep it to herself for a bit longer. The blue light was snuffed out, though the snowmen remained. Her magic was hidden from sight, but still thrummed within her.

Astrid’s father demanded she come inside, afraid that her fingers would get frostbitten and she wouldn’t be able to play cello. When Astrid refused, his voice grew more forceful and angry. She would follow orders, he said. Astrid pulled off a mitten, wiggling her fingers to show that they were perfectly fine. “I’ve been playing with my mittens off and I’m fine, papa!” she argued, trying her best to stifle the faint blue light. Thankfully, her father didn’t notice.

Astrid’s refusal to listen, her father’s shouting at her, it all welled up within her. “Fine! Get frostbite. Try to play cello with half fingers,” spat her father furiously. He stormed off, and angry tears streaked down Astrid’s cheeks. She discarded her mittens once more and with a ferocious growl, she threw the magic that had been bubbling inside her towards her fathers retreating form.

A trail of massive, razor sharp icicles erupted from the ground, but did not come close to her father. She felt the well of power within her drain completely, and she swayed on the spot. Her father didn’t even look back at her. Astrid slumped on the ground, fighting to keep her eyes open. She laid back, her eyes fluttering shut. She forced them open, if only to don her mittens once more. With the power drained, she felt the cold deep within her bones.

Astrid finally sat up after what felt like hours in the snow. Shivering and wet, she retreated to her home like a dog with her tail between her legs. Her father inspected her hands once she was able to warm them by the first, to find them miraculously unhurt. Astrid knew that magical well within her had protected her from the dangers of the cold.

She wanted more than anything to experiment more. But there was a concert coming up, and the whole family would play. It would be Astrid’s debut. So she focused instead on her cello, letting the music fill the magical well within her.