《Whispers of Steel and Magic》


 Chapter 1

    The mission was going to hell.


    Ember looked out from the balustrade: her fellow cadets were lowering their weapons against the iron of the enemy machines, but they could not make a dent. With their long metal arms, they pierced the cadets'' chests as if they were made of paper. White canvases ripped open and filled with red.


    Ember clenched her fists and shook her head. They would have hated her, called her a coward. But if she hoped to make a difference, this was the only chance she had.


    Stay focused. Always keep your eyes on the goal. There''s no time for doubt.


    Sergeant Ferun''s voice boomed in her head. Ember nodded, as if the woman was really there, watching her. She imagined the stunted half-smile on her face. She will make her proud.


    She headed upward, down the ramp that bordered the building. The battle below made everything vibrate, and in running fast she risked stumbling a couple of times. She kept one hand clenched on the railing at all times to give herself a boost and get back up as soon as she felt herself falter.


    A thud beside her raised a cloud of dust. A window next to her vibrated, glass bursting. Ember covered her eyes, her sword tightly clutched in her other hand. A creature made of metal thrust its stubby torso toward her. A red light pointed at her. Its long, tube-like legs unfurled with each movement.


    "Figures."


    Ember raised her sword just in time: the creature snapped its paw toward her. Its fingers closed on the blade, three great phalanxes of creaking iron.


    Harness the momentum. Never waste a single move.


    "Just watch, Sarge." Ember spun the blade. The creature''s paw twisted in on itself. It tried to move, and Ember shifted her body weight backward, pulling it with her.


    She pressed the button on the hilt. A surge of energy made her arm shake. A dull sound filled her ears. And then a shield of electrical energy exploded, destroying the creature''s fingers. It let out a robotic scream, a half-moan, and staggered backward.


    Ember threw herself at it. The shield slammed into the iron of its body. She gritted her teeth, muscles straining from the impact. The creature crashed down the railing with a shrill scream.


    "Gotcha!"


    The cackling of the battle below continued. Ember closed her eyes. The screams of her comrades became images. Vivid memories of Lark falling to the ground, of Petra being thrown against the wall of a crumbling building. A black and white tiled floor, its joints filled with blood.


    No, no, she had to concentrate. Think about the goal.


    She started again. A huge shiny metal ball swirled in the air. From its center, it emitted beams of blue energy that swept across the battlefield. It shattered cadets and machines alike.


    Berserker strategy, the Sergeant had called it. The enemy didn''t mind sacrificing their soulless pawns if it meant destroying the enemy.


    A mission lost in the beginning.


    On the roof was a domed structure the size of the training ground where Ember trained every morning. A round window marked its center, and the beak of a cannon looked out from inside.


    A door blocked the entrance. Ember grabbed the round crown crank. She tried to turn it, but it would not budge.


    "Why the hell... somebody up there doesn''t... like me?"


    Ember gasped. She couldn''t do it alone. She had come all this way for nothing. She had left her companions to die.


    A gloved hand rested on hers. Then a second was added. Sergeant Ferun appeared at her side, her eyes two windows to the sea in this world of iron and devastation. "Pull on my command."


    "Sarge!" Ember smiled. Her cheeks furrowed, she nodded, and together they turned the crank. It screeched with the fury of a dying banshee. It almost hurt her ears.


    The door opened, revealing a bare interior of intricate tangles of cables and pipes connecting puffing machines. The Sergeant entered at a brisk pace, her pale red hair in perfect order, gathered in a single wave that fell over her shoulder. She silently inspected the machinery, one hand on her hip.


    There was always a strange aura about the Sergeant. Freezing, distant, as if trying to keep the world at arm''s length. Yet Ember had never felt cold in her small attempts to get closer.


    It''s just that you''ve lost your head over her, like the good idiot you are.


    The voice in her head resembled her father''s. Gruff, babbling after another glass of wine.


    Ember hated it when he was right.


    The base of the cannon stood at the far end of the structure, just in front of the window. Ember ran a hand over it: cold, it hadn''t been used in years. Who knew if it would work.


    "Do you know how to use it?"


    The Sergeant huffed, her arms crossed over her chest. "No. Ancient Ysnian technology has never been my forte."


    Ember would have laughed if the situation hadn''t dropped a boulder on her heart. She focused on the cannon again, watching the valves that marked parameters she didn''t understand a damn thing about.


    Until the sergeant huffed again. "This mission was a mistake."


    Ember lowered her head. "I know. We did everything wrong, we should have chosen a defensive strategy..."


    "No, that''s not the problem."


    She brought her fingers to her chest and met the Sergeant''s gaze. "What do you mean?"


    "We were told we would only find a handful of enemy machines and ruins. A mission fit for cadets. Not this."


    "So it was a trap?"


    The Sergeant put both hands on her hips. The machine beside her emitted a flashing light that bathed one side of her face. "There is a spy in the upper ranks. Someone who has alerted the Ysnian Army of our arrival."


    A terrifying possibility. Ember pictured the faces of her superiors: Colonel Oblam, with his ridiculous mustache and encouraging words; Lieutenant Alpes and his habit of snooping around and acting like a fairy godmother; General Phoenix, fearless and sometimes too reckless.


    One of them had sent all those cadets to their gruesome deaths.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Ember clutched the flame-shaped pendant that hung around her neck. "Why would they do that? We are just cadets. Why waste all these resources on us?"


    "Because you are the future of the Army." The Sergeant sighed, gloved fingers caressing the valve of a machine. "The Ysnians know very well that the war will last for years. Eliminating new enemy recruits is not only easy, it also means eliminating future threats before they can become such."


    "Morality in war goes to hell," Ember muttered. Words her Sergeant had repeated to her many times, but never rang so true.


    The woman''s face softened. The cold aura became less icy. She parted her lips as if to speak, only to look away and return her focus to the machine. Plumes of smoke rose. "This one looks lit."


    "Can you make any sense of it?"


    "No. But I think it''s stuck." The Sergeant slammed the sole of her shoe into the machine. It shook from the force of the kick, and smoke came out in small concentric wisps.


    "Um, Sarge, with all due respect, I don''t think..."


    She didn''t even listen to her: she delivered another blow, and the machine stopped huffing and puffing.


    They both stood motionless. Ember held her breath, her fingers tightening around the pendant.


    The machine began to beep. A loud, disturbing alarm. Ember covered her ears, and the sergeant clucked her tongue in annoyance.


    "Can''t you turn it off?" Ember asked. Her heart pounded in her chest in the same rhythm as the siren. "Before they send those jointed creatures to crush us?"


    The Sergeant lifted her head to look at the ceiling. "I doubt that''s our biggest problem."


    "Huh?"


    A roar rattled the floor. Ember lost her balance and almost fell face first to the ground like a perfect idiot. Sergeant Ferun grabbed her shoulders and she felt her heart rise in her throat.


    "What is it?" Ember asked.


    "Trouble."


    A beam of blue light pierced the dome. It passed right over their heads. It burned the air. So much so that Ember could find no oxygen to fill her lungs, and she stood there, her eyes wide, staring into those of her Sergeant.


    They were going to die. They were totally screwed.


    "Watch out!" Sergeant Ferun grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the ground. Ember fell on top of her. Another beam of light crossed the room, cutting through the exact spot where their heads had been.


    Ember stood after her. Her hands were shaking so much that she could barely control them. She put them on her thighs, trying to stop them. "What was that?"


    "The Vylian. The Ysnian''s weapon of choice." The Sergeant went to the cannon. She inspected the knobs and readouts, then kicked the machine with a piqued snap of her tongue.


    Ember blinked, confused. They should have run, right? They were trapped in there, and the stupid cannon wouldn''t know how to fire. But she stayed, and stayed, and watched her Sergeant''s back as she searched for a solution with her unconventional methods.


    "Piece of junk," she heard her mutter.


    At the window, beyond the tip of the cannon, something blocked the sun. A huge mass, emitting light in turn. A huge blue glass eye was staring at her from outside.


    Ember moved immediately. She found shelter behind one of the steam belching machines. She closed her eyes and felt only the heat of another enemy attack.


    Sarge, be alright. Please.


    She had no time to look. Metal creatures hurled themselves inside. The nearest threw a paw at her; Ember discarded to the side at the last with a scream. The creature hit a pipe and exploded. A jet of steam scorched her pants and burned her skin.


    Ember gritted her teeth and limped away. She drew her sword and turned to face her enemies.


    One to her left, watching her with its red cybernetic eye. One to her right, perched on a pipe. Two in front of her, moving slowly forward as if they knew they had already won.


    Ember fought to keep her sword steady, her entire body shaking. Sweat trickled down her forehead: fear or pain? She could not tell. But her thigh throbbed and screamed, hot as a boiling teapot.


    The first attack came from the right. Ember moved her feet to move, but her leg gave way. The creature threw its entire body at her. Fifty or more pounds of pure iron crashed through her stomach. Her vision blurred. Drops of blood went up her windpipe; she spit them out with a cough.


    Two more creatures charged at her. Ember activated her electromagnetic energy shield just in time. She softened both blows, but slipped back.


    Her knees barely held her up. The muscles in her legs were like jelly, ready to collapse at any moment.


    She was dead. She knew it. Useless to resist.


    But she did not give up.


    As one of the creatures lunged at her again, Ember deactivated her shield and drew her sword. She sliced its arm cleanly in a spray of sparks.


    A gust of air sent a wisp of hair flying in front of her eyes. Sergeant Ferun stood between her and the enemies. The long blade of her sword slashed quickly, cutting the creatures into pieces. She jumped from one to the other, never stopping: she used her momentum. A secret that made her as fast as she was deadly.


    But no matter how many she stopped, more would come.


    Ember turned, the blue eye staring at her from outside the window. Its light flickered. What had she learned in class about the Vylian? Think, Ember, think.


    A weapon of advanced technology, able to destroy with lethal attacks or to remotely command other machines. Therefore, destroying the Vylian would also stop the creatures.


    Easier said than done.


    Ember hobbled over to the cannon. The valves did not seem to make sense. There were star patterns and magnetic fields. What the hell were they measuring? Behind her echoed the clank of the Sergeant''s sword.


    Ember tried to touch something. The cannon trembled, only to die soon after. A telltale light flashed off to the side: an arrow hitting a stylized line and returning. Ember blinked, uncomprehending. They could have used more decent instructions. Ysnians could be absolute geniuses and complete idiots at the same time.


    And then she had an idea.


    Holding her stomach, still upside down after the blow she had received, she threw herself onto the cannon with all her weight. She pressed down on it, but could not move its tip even a millimeter. Damn it. If she survived, she swore she would spend her days doing push-ups.


    Then, with a squeak, the cannon shifted. The Sergeant appeared at her side, sword raised, her attention focused on the growing group of creatures pouring in. "What are you doing?"


    Ember gritted her teeth. One last effort... and lo and behold, the tip was pointing right at the center of the Vylian''s eye. "This is not a cannon."


    Sergeant Ferun shot her a puzzled look. "Have you been hit in the head? It''s obviously a cannon."


    "No, it''s not. It has a reflecting magic spell inside." At least she hoped so. "Try pissing off the Vylian."


    "Hmm?" She raised an eyebrow, far from convinced. Eventually, though, she listened to her and jumped on the cannon, raising the tip of the sword to the Vylian''s eye. A threat. Or rather, a bluster.


    But it worked. The eye stopped flashing. It emitted another beam of blue light, but instead of hitting the Sergeant, it was sucked into the cannon. All the valves sputtered. The beam then sputtered out of the muzzle and crashed into the Vylian. It pierced its eye and tore through the entire structure, leaving a large hole.


    And as the Vylian collapsed, the creatures behind them lost their life force. Their movements became slow and jerky before they stopped altogether. They had become iron statues in a variety of positions.


    Ember allowed herself to sigh. And as soon as the air left her lungs, her whole body sent out jolts of pain that bent her in two.


    The Sergeant placed a hand on her shoulder. "You did well." A small glimmer of pride in the midst of that sea of pain and despair.


    "Thank you."


    "Let''s go." The Sergeant put an arm under her shoulders and helped her to her feet. She was strong and firm. Ember swallowed, trying not to think too much about the butterflies in her stomach.


    "What''s the plan now?"


    "Help the survivors, if there are any. Then find the spy." A moment''s pause. The Sergeant looked ahead, helping Ember past the iron statues. "Keep it secret for now."


    That made sense. Better not to arouse suspicion; that would make the search more difficult. "Can I help with the investigation?"


    The other curled her lips into a small, rare smile. "Just try to stay out of trouble."

 Chapter 2

    What awaited them was desolation. Sergeant Ferun escorted them down the ramp, her arm under Ember''s shoulders. She helped her to her feet with her own body, and Ember felt her cheeks heat up every time their hips collided.


    How ridiculous you are, losing your head over one of your superiors.


    Ember pushed her father''s voice out of her mind. She focused on the present, on the sound of soles against the iron of the ramp, on the ringing in her ears now that the noise of battle was over. Flames crackled somewhere, their glow spreading an orange halo across the sky. The Vylian, now reduced to a pile of wreckage.


    The Sergeant never spoke on the way. Ember respected her silence.


    Next to dozens of motionless statues of those iron creatures, surviving cadets waited with their weapons stowed. Some lay on the tiled floor, dabbing at wounds on their chests or legs; others paced, checking the pulse of those who had not made it. A small group seemed unharmed, or nearly so, with only a few scratches and labored breathing.


    Ember squeezed closer to the Sergeant as her eyes fell on the figure of Mark. His blond hair tousled by the breeze, his hands smeared with blood, a red mark on one cheek.


    What is it? Were you hoping he was dead? You really are a hypocrite, Ember.


    What did her father know? Him, the ultimate hypocrite. The man without morals. Still, Ember swallowed her own heart, beating relentlessly in her throat. For her father was right, and she had truly hoped that Mark had died in battle.


    Sergeant Ferun helped her lean against the wall of a building that was no more than a vague memory of cold, broken walls. "Thank you," Ember muttered, barely holding back a groan as the other moved away.


    "How many wounded and how many dead?" the Sergeant asked the other cadets in her cold, detached tone.


    "Four wounded and ten dead," Viola replied in a low voice, sitting on the ground. A deep cut ran across her cheek, the vermilion of blood dripping onto her perfect skin.


    Mark spat on the floor. When he noticed Ember, trembling and panting, he went to her without wasting any time. His friend Jason followed without a word. "Where the fuck were you, huh?" He grabbed her uniform jacket, his fingers pressing against her chest.


    Ember let out a groan. He pulled her forward so he could stare straight into her eyes a few inches away; she had to keep her weight on her injured leg to keep from falling on top of him. She sank her teeth into her lip to keep from screaming. "I was just looking for a way to stop the Ysnians."


    "Tell another one, Leroy!" Mark shoved her and Ember lost her balance. Her butt hit the tiled floor. "You left us here to die while you ran away like a coward!"


    A red half-cloak fluttered in front of Ember''s eyes. It covered Mark''s pained face for a moment. "Cadet Terris." The Sergeant''s voice was firm and threatening.


    He stepped back, hesitant. "Sergeant, I think you should punish her. She was a coward and left her comrades to die..."


    "Shut up." She folded her arms across her chest. The Sergeant was tall, but not as tall as Mark. Still, her aura radiated strength from every pore, and the way she stood with her head held high and her muscles tensed betrayed an anger she could not hide.


    Ember blinked. She knew Mark would resent her the moment she left the battlefield. What she had not expected was for the Sergeant to defend her.


    A warmth spread through her chest, chasing away the still vivid sensation of Mark''s fingers pressed against her.


    "If it weren''t for her, you''d all be dead by now," the Sergeant said.


    Mark frowned and took another step back. Jason remained at her side, his hair too long and his uniform tattered on his calf. "But, Sergeant, she left..."


    "Yes, I know. She left the post because she saw an opportunity."


    "But it was against orders."


    "Sometimes, Terris, instinct is more important than orders."


    No one dared to answer. Usually, Sergeant Ferun was the first to punish cadets who did their own thing instead of following orders. Ember wondered if she was making an exception because of her achievement.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Whatever the reason, seeing Mark being yelled at like that was a beautiful sight. She almost smiled.


    With a cry of effort, Ember grabbed the wall to stand up. No one helped her. The sergeant had already moved away to check on the wounded; Mark and Jason watched her with clenched fists; Viola seemed too focused on her own palms. Ember scrambled back to her feet, her thigh screaming in pain.


    Panting, she pressed her back against the wall. She met Mark''s gaze again. So full of hate and anger.


    For a brief moment, Ember saw her father instead of Mark, his hand raised. She closed her eyes and prayed for him to leave her alone. When she opened them again, no one was looking at her.


    Her heart pounded harder than ever in her ribs.


    ?????????


    Ember let out a long sigh, releasing all the tension that had held her up until then, as she dropped onto the mattress. She pressed a button on the console next to the nightstand. The electromagnetic field activated with a vibration and the bed lifted a few inches off the floor. The room was quiet, dark and empty. A place to get lost in, to let go of the most hidden and darkest part of herself.


    The burn still hurt. The nurse had bandaged it for her as soon as they returned to headquarters. In the cribs, she had recognized the faces of her fellow cadets. She had not been able to feel much for them, even though she knew inside that she should be worried about their recovery, or at least sorry for their condition.


    Instead, she had no room for anything but the black emptiness that filled her chest. The hope of seeing someone cross the threshold of the infirmary to greet her. But who? She had no idea. Maybe Sergeant Ferun.


    But no one had come.


    With a sigh, Ember turned on her side and wrapped her arms around the pillow. She held it close, a companion that could not give her the warmth she needed.


    Ready to fall asleep. To let herself fall into the limbo of dreamland, where the usual nightmares would greet her, with her father''s screams in the foreground and the desire to disappear from the world digging into her chest.


    A sudden knock.


    Ember lifted her torso, head tilted, eyes fixed on the door. Darkness surrounded everything, engulfing the shelves of books on the walls; only the doorknob twinkled like a second moon.


    "Who is it?" she asked, clutching her shirt between her fingers at the height of her galloping heart.


    "Sergeant Ferun." She added nothing more.


    Ember stood motionless for a few seconds, maybe longer. What did the Sergeant want from her at this time of night?


    To confess her love for you. Come on, stop dreaming.


    "The door is open."


    The Sergeant entered and closed the door behind her. Her hair fell over her left shoulder, her uniform stripped of its jacket. The tank top left her arms exposed, a mix of muscle and strength and femininity. Ember held her breath, clinging to the blanket as if afraid of falling into an abyss of inappropriate thoughts.


    "Hey." The Sergeant stopped a few paces from the foot of the bed. "How''s the leg?"


    A warmth rose in her cheeks. Ember moved her legs under the blanket. Her skin stretched under the bandage. She gritted her teeth. "Better," she lied.


    "Mm-hm." The Sergeant raised an eyebrow. "I''m not blind, you know."


    Ember dropped her eyes to the blankets. "It still hurts a bit, but it will pass. I won''t miss training."


    "You need rest." A new note tinged her voice. It was softer.


    "But..."


    "No buts. If I see you in boot camp in the next few days, I''ll send you back here with a kick in the butt, Leroy."


    It didn''t sound like a threat, though, and Ember couldn''t help but smile. She nodded, her fingers playing with the blanket. "All right. Thanks, Sarge."


    The other approached again. She spread a scent of cherries and leather. She parted her lips and almost seemed to want to speak, but she just sucked in air and let it out with a sigh. Nothing more.


    Ember curled a crumpled strand of the blanket around her finger. A dark red twisted against her pale skin. She found it hard to think with her Sergeant''s presence so close, just steps from her bed. Even her father''s constant muttering had faded, or maybe it was just lost in the sea of thoughts that flooded her mind.


    "Did you come all this way just to tell me that?"


    The Sergeant rubbed her fingers together. "No. I wanted to make sure you still want to help."


    Ember lifted her head. "Help?"


    "In finding the spy. I shouldn''t rely on a cadet, but I don''t know who I can really trust."


    "I''m happy to assist."


    The other nodded, her lips curving into a barely-there smile. "Good. Thank you, Ember." It was the first time she had called her by her first name, instead of "cadet" or Leroy. It made her quiver a little inside.


    "My pleasure." Ember smiled in response.


    "Then, good night." With those words, the Sergeant left the room, taking with her the scent of cherries and the no longer so cold aura that followed her.


    Ember stood alone in the dark again, with a pulsing burn on her thigh. She lay down and hugged the pillow, but this time when she closed her eyes, it was with a heart full of hope.


    Someone had come to visit her, if only for convenience. She was not alone.

 Chapter 3

    Spending the day in the library would have been a lifelong dream, but the presence of annoying people made the experience anything but pleasant. Ember sat at a small table, a stack of books covering the drawing paper from prying eyes. She glided her pencil across the page, sketching the hall of an ancient palace with crystal stalactites hanging from the ceiling and a woman in purple armor pointing her sword at a twisted dragon.


    The voices around her, however, distracted her. As did the smell of incense. The librarian, Mr. Miles, liked to light scented candles on the counter by the entrance. Despite the wide open windows, the smell lingered between the shelves.


    It had never seemed like a good idea to Ember; candles and books were a potentially problematic mix. One day she had tried to approach Mr. Miles and ask him if he had ever thought about it, about the possible complications, but he had only given her a sidelong glance from behind the thick lenses of his glasses. Ember had lost her courage and returned to the bookcase. She had watched as the shelves slid past her until they came to a halt.


    She stopped her hand, pencil gripped tightly between her fingers, to take a good look at the drawing. The face of the woman in armor was familiar. Piercing eyes, sharp features.


    You drew your Sergeant, you idiot.


    Her father was right. Without meaning to, Ember had let Sergeant Ferun sneak into her drawings as well. With a sigh, she put her pencil down on the table and leaned against the backrest.


    "Did you hear? Some guy had the nerve to call Sergeant Ferun a spinster in front of her."


    Ember strained her ears. A girl gesticulated as she told her friends about the matter. They were all huddled around a large table next to the shelf of books on military strategy. However, they didn''t seem very interested in the subject, at least not as much as gossip.


    "No way! Is he crazy?" another girl with short blue hair giggled.


    "I swear he did. And she, oh, if she could have killed him with one look, I think she would have."


    In an environment of teenagers frustrated by stifling training, gossip was always around the corner. And no one lent herself better to possible theories and rumors than a woman of the Sergeant''s closed and rigid character. They said all sorts of things about her: that she was a lesbian, that she was frigid, that she lived alone in an empty house with thirty cats, that she actually had sadomasochistic tendencies and kept a whip in her closet¡­


    Ember crossed her legs under the table. The Sergeant''s face stared at the dragon in the drawing with determination.


    Such a strong woman, yet people liked to tease her. Who knows if the Sergeant was alone? Who knows if she was aware of all those rumors, if they passed her by as smoothly as she seemed to show, or if the seeds of a slimy and treacherous hatred took root in her heart.


    The other girls continued to talk among themselves. Ember ignored them: She didn¡¯t want their prejudices to affect her as well. She picked up her pencil again and began to shade the woman''s armor.


    Her leg still hurt. The nurse had put ointment on it that morning to cool the burn, but it hadn¡¯t helped. Or maybe Ember complained too much. She needed to learn to deal with pain better. What soldier would spend their days doing nothing in the library because of a silly wound like that?


    "Nice drawing." A voice beside her made her jump. Her heart beat wildly and she threw herself at the drawing, covering it with her own body.


    Lieutenant Alpes gave her an amused smile. With his hair bright red and his uniform neatly straightened, he sat on the edge of the table, his leg dangling.


    "Uh, good morning, Lieutenant," Ember muttered. She brushed her hair back, hoping he would mistake the rosy hue of her skin for an effect of the light.


    "It''s almost evening, Ember. But good morning to you, too." He tapped her shoulder.


    Ember stiffened at the contact. The scar hidden under her shirt lit up like a torch, illuminating memories of a sparkling glass bottle in the living room and her father''s yelling. She pushed back her chair, only a few millimeters, the drawing tight against her chest.


    "I hear you played a pivotal role in the success of the mission," he said, his cadence almost a chant. "A tragedy indeed. I grieve for all those you lost."


    Ember nodded, silently. Alpes smiled, and though it was not an amused smile, but rather an attempt to appear sympathetic, it struck her as suspicious. What kind of person would smile while talking about the deaths of young cadets? But that was not enough to suspect him, was it?


    "Yeah, I was just trying to do something," she muttered. "It was more Sergeant Ferun''s doing, though."


    "Interesting. She says otherwise." Alpes got off the table. He patted his pants to remove some non-existent dust.


    "Oh, uh, really?" She pressed the drawing closer to her chest. As if this measly piece of paper was enough to cover the deafening noise of her heart.


    Alpes hummed. "Lightara is a... difficult woman, but she is not evil. Despite the legend that she is responsible for the disappearance of innocent cadets."


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Ember smiled, thumbs tapping on the back of the drawing. "There is no such legend."


    "Well, no, not yet. But I wouldn''t be surprised if it surfaced sooner or later."


    Lightara. Hardly anyone called Sergeant Ferun by name, not even their superiors. Ember felt a pang of jealousy: what if Lieutenant Alpes was closer to her than she thought? Maybe there was something between them.


    Fool. What do you care, huh? It''s not like you stand a chance anyway.


    Ember let the smile fade. She put the paper down on the table and turned so that Alpes couldn¡¯t see the drawing. "Is there another reason you¡¯re talking to me, Lieutenant?" She did not want to sound harsh, but it wasn¡¯t easy to contain the bitterness that filled her palate.


    "Actually, yes. I was thinking of summoning you to my office in the next few days, but I''m here now." Alpes scratched his chin, where a hint of a beard colored his skin red. "You see, I''ve noticed that you''re very lonely. And in one way that''s good, a soldier has to know how to take care of themselves. But you know, a soldier also knows when to rely on their comrades."


    Of course. She wasn''t surprised at all. Using the excuse of the good soldier who knows how to work in a team didn¡¯t make this speech new.


    Ember dug her nails into her arm. What did he expect her to say? ''Yes, you¡¯re right, Lieutenant. From now on, I''m going to stop acting like I¡¯m better than anoyone and letting my comrades make fun of me¡¯?


    "I''m sorry," she said instead.


    "It''s not a rebuke." Alpes touched her shoulder again. She closed her eyes and prayed with every ounce of herself the images to let her go. "I''m just concerned. You''re a good cadet, it¡¯d be a shame if this little inconvenience kept you from finding your true potential."


    "I know, I''ll try to socialize more."


    An outright lie she had repeated for years. No one ever believed it, but it was usually enough to convince others to stop lecturing her.


    Alpes glanced at the girls gossiping at the other table. "Or you could go over there and join them right now. What would it cost you?"


    Ember held her breath, her shoulders hunched. She imagined how it would go: her, in silence, hands on her lap, listening to the sound of her own blood boiling in her veins as those girls'' prejudices filled her with questions about herself. If it had been a possibility, she certainly would not have needed Alpes to think about it.


    "Uhm, I¡­"


    "Come on, what harm can it do you? Try it, you''ll see it¡¯s going to be fun." He took her arm. Ember stiffened and recoiled instinctively. Alpes grabbed her again and made her stand.


    Her leg lost strength. The burn under the bandage sent a sting so strong it blurred her vision. Ember clung to the table to keep from falling; Alpes tilted his head to look at her, a question mark in his eyes. Ember shook her head.


    "I''m fine."


    Alpes walked her to the table with the other girls. There were four of them, Ember knew their names. Four pairs of eyes were on her. She could hear their judgments loud and clear in her mind.


    "Excuse me, girls. Is it a problem if Ember joins you?"


    "No, of course not," Alicia replied. She turned her attention from Ember to her companions, as if preparing to pretend that Ember was just a ghost.


    "See? Easy." Alpes put his hand on her back, pushing her toward the empty chair. When Ember sat down, he nodded contentedly and walked away humming.


    He felt that he had done his duty as an adult, that he had helped a person in need. Ember squeezed the fabric of her pants between her fingers: what bothered her more, the idea that he had used her as a way to feel better about himself, or the fact that he considered her a person in need? She couldn¡¯t say.


    She recognized Viola, beside her, with a large bandage on her cheek. Her face was swollen and she tried to cover the wound with her long dark hair. Across from them, Ciel laughed at Alicia''s words and touched her arm from time to time. Teresa was eating dried bananas.


    "Don''t you find the Lieutenant charming?" Alicia asked, a mischievous smile on her face.


    Ember raised her eyebrows. Was she serious? Alpes? That nosy?


    "Oh yeah," Teresa replied. "He''s a cool guy. I was thinking of asking him to give me some reps, if you know what I mean." She giggled.


    Perhaps Ember shouldn¡¯t have judged. What did she know about men, after all?


    She waved her feet under the table a bit before the pain in her leg forced her to stop. Who knew if Sergeant Ferun found Alpes charming. The thought crossed her mind for a moment, but once it had its way, Ember had no idea how to push it back. A weight on her chest crushed her.


    Please, not Alpes.


    Would it make any difference to you if it were someone else?


    "No, don''t be silly." Viola flicked her hand through the air. It interrupted Ember''s flood of thoughts. "General Phoenix, that''s a hottie."


    Ciel leaned back on the seat, one hand in her blue hair. "Can''t compete with him, I agree. He''s just another level."


    "I prefer Alpes," Alicia chimed in, and Teresa agreed.


    Ember closed her eyes in a silent curse. Two against two. She knew what that meant: this was the moment they suddenly remembered her existence.


    It was Ciel who pointed at her. "You, Ember? Who do you vote for? Who do you think is the coolest?"


    They all tensed up, waiting for her answer. Ember opened her lips, but no sound came out. Should she be honest or give them the answer they wanted to hear? Which group was convenient for her to please, Ciel and Viola or Alicia and Teresa?


    She wasn''t ready to admit her sexuality. Giving the bullies another reason to despise her didn¡¯t seem like a good idea.


    "Uh¡­ General Phoenix," she finally muttered.


    Ciel slammed her palm down on the table. "See? Three to two, Phoenix earns the title of hottest superior."


    The others muttered something. Ember didn''t even listen to them: she put her head in her hands, elbows on the table, and counted the seconds until this agony would end.

 Chapter 4

    Light felt her fingers itch with the urge to strangle someone. Ten cadets were dead, four were wounded, and all her superiors were doing was taking tea. With a hand over her heart in the typical military salute, Light waited in the center of the room; seated at the desk, Colonel Oblam and Lieutenant Alpes sipped from their cups and made appreciative comments.


    Light was much harsher with her cadets for less. Instead, her superiors were acting like housewives, gossiping about the latest news and waiting for their husbands to return from the war.


    "What kind of tea leaves did you use, Colonel? It tastes really exotic." Alpes'' face wrinkled up a bit on the sides of his mouth when he smiled.


    Oblam ran a hand through his long dark mustache. "These are special leaves. They were imported from the Alyandra Islands. The tea tastes almost crunchy because they mix the leaves with puffed rice."


    "Oh, that''s why it''s so special. They always have the best finds in Alyandra. Have you ever been there, Colonel?"


    "I''ve only been once, on my honeymoon with my wife. It''s a wonderful place, especially the spa, it''is like a panacea. It regenerated me. I was a new man."


    "I suppose you needed it, given what¡­ a piece of work your wife is."


    As Alpes and Oblam laughed behind the Colonel''s wife''s back, Light dropped her arm to her side. She cleared her throat in irritation. They stopped their frivolous and stupid chatter to glance at her.


    She almost missed Phoenix. He was an irresponsible imbecile, but at least he didn''t have desperate housewife tendencies.


    "Oh, Ferun, how rude of me." Oblam lifted the teapot, his moustache quivering on his lips as he spoke. "Would you like some tea?"


    Light appealed to the patience she did not possess not to blurt out. "With all due respect, Colonel, I believe there are more important matters to discuss at the moment."


    Oblam blinked as if she had just slapped him. He put the teapot back on the desk, then opened a drawer and pulled out some filled out papers. He scattered them in disarray over a drop of tea that had fallen from his cup.


    Light''s hands clasped together in a tight squeeze. If only she could have flown the Colonel, his damn tea, and those now-stained papers out the window, she would have done so without hesitation.


    In the momentary silence, Oblam''s canaries chirped and fluttered their wings in the cage. They looked out the window, trying to break free, to fly into the sky. Into a world that would crush them in seconds.


    Alpes patted Oblam on the shoulder. "Come on, you know how Lightara is. Don''t take it personally, she''s a workaholic, you know."


    She didn¡¯t flinch, stood still, but gave Alpes an icy look. He took it with a laugh. "Cadets died. We sent them on a suicide mission. So no, I''m not really in the mood for tea."


    "No offense, Sergeant," Oblam said, rising to his feet. The bodice of his uniform was tight on him, but it was hard to tell if it was muscles or an overstretched belly yearning for freedom. "You are a very good soldier, one of the best. But you are so young. How old are you?"


    Old enough to kick your ass, she thought. "Just turned twenty-one, sir."


    Oblam nodded, with the air of someone who had already figured out the problem. He walked to the window and tapped on the canary cage. They settled down, but never took their little eyes off the sun behind the bars. The colonel drew the curtains, and the light became dim, a dull green. "You see, you¡¯re very young. And I understand that you¡¯re very attached to your ideals, it''s a credit to you, I mean it."


    The wall clock to her left began to chime. She tensed the muscles in her back.


    "But with time, you learn to understand that things happen. Is the loss of all those cadets a tragedy? Of course it is. But accidents happen, and we can''t always know for sure if it''s a simple mission or not. I''m sure the cadets know their lives are always hanging by a thread."


    A mistake. Was he going to dismiss the problem like that? Really?


    Light pinched the bridge of her nose with an exasperated sigh. "It''s not just a mistake, Colonel. We were given false information about the mission."


    Oblam returned to his seat. "I understand your anger. You feel guilty for not protecting your subordinates, and now you''re looking for someone else to blame."


    "What?" Light took a step forward, fists clenched and teeth gritted.


    "Stop mourning so much, you did everything you could, and thanks to you, our best recruit survived. You have nothing to blame yourself for."


    Alpes clucked his tongue, his hands crossed in his lap. He dared not look up. An ass-kisser, ready to agree with Oblam at any cost.


    When she spoke again, Light raised her voice. "Your best recruit is safe, so the other ten dead can go fuck themselves?"


    Oblam sighed, tired. He treated her like a little girl. "That''s not what I said, don''t twist my words. I was just trying to ease your guilt. It''s a relief that Mark Terris is okay and that other cadets survived. The mission ended well. I don''t think there''s anything else to talk about."


    Mark Terris, Phoenix''s and therefore everybody''s darling. But it was no thanks to him that the mission had not ended with the death of all cadets. All the little guy could do was pick on others when he failed at something. Mature behavior like his superiors''.


    Light huffed, a hand on her hip. "Are you blaming me for the dead cadets?"


    "No. I just said their safety was your responsibility." Oblam brought his cup of tea to his lips. He dampened his moustache. "You should stop putting things in my mouth, Sergeant."


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    If there was one thing Light hated, it was phrases used to hide a simple concept. Most of the time, they were meant to disguise attacks. This short conversation would have been enough for her to put Oblam at the top of the list of suspects, but she knew that nothing was that simple. Just because Oblam was an old man corrupted by a shitty system did not necessarily mean he was a traitor. Alpes, with his suck-up tendencies, did not seem entirely innocent either.


    "You should really try some tea. To relax yourself." Alpes lifted his cup like a mug.


    Light made an irritated sound and left. If her idiot superiors didn¡¯t want to help her, she had to investigate herself.


    ?????????


    The halls of the Academy reeked of sweat and disinfectant. A disgusting mixture. Despite being surrounded by it every day for years, Light found it hard to get used to. And maybe part of her didn''t want to get used to it.


    Cadets came running. They stopped as soon as they saw her in their path, almost colliding. They brought their hands to their hearts, backs straight, heads up.


    "Good morning, Sergeant!" they said in unison.


    Light dismissed them with a wave of the hand. "No running in the halls."


    "Sorry, ma''am," the taller one said, a wisp of hair falling back over his eyes. She had told him a billion times to cut his hair, but he was a hothead.


    "Go now."


    They walked away, and Light didn¡¯t stop to watch them. She walked out of the hallway and grabbed the railing of the stairs. The blue lights from the terminals below cast tall, thin shadows on the walls. The stairs shook beneath her feet, the low hum of the electromagnetic field a constant soundtrack as she climbed.


    The library doors opened as soon as they sensed movement. Light wrinkled her nose at the stench of candles - Mr. Miles needed to stop his strange fixations, Light made a mental note to reprimand him for the umpteenth time. There were few people among the shelves at this hour: a few boys with their noses buried in books, a small group of first-year cadets studying the 3-D maps projected on the tables, and a few girls chatting.


    Light put a hand on her hip and sighed. Strange, she had bet Ember was there.


    She was about to leave when she noticed the blond head in the middle of the girls¡¯ group. She was holding her head, as if every word they said made it heavier and heavier. With her other hand, she was clutching a piece of paper to her chest. Light almost smiled to herself: Ember''s aversion to socializing was a quirk she understood.


    The girls were oblivious to her presence. They kept talking to each other - something about the hottest superior award. Light tapped Ember''s shoulder with a finger. She saw the other flinch before turning. But when they recognized her, those big brown eyes widened and her lips curled into a smile.


    "Sarge?" she whispered, as if she did not want the others to hear.


    Light motioned for her to follow. Ember stood up without alerting the others and walked away from the table like a ghost, unseen by anyone. A bizarre phenomenon that Light wouldn¡¯t have believed had she not witnessed it herself. She had never liked being around people, especially noisy ones, but she struggled to remain unnoticed. Ember, on the other hand, juggled others'' gazes naturally, as if she always chose to walk in the blind spot of the people around her.


    Ember followed her out of the library, limping but not whimpering. She kept clutching the paper to her chest. They stopped in the hallway, where the hum of the electromagnetic field was loudest, hoping it could mask their words from prying ears.


    "Has something happened?" Ember asked. She wasn¡¯t wearing her uniform, just a white blouse. She had left the first few buttons undone, and her snow-white skin shone amid the dark colors of the Academy.


    Light folded her arms across her chest. "I''ve been trying to talk to my superiors about the mission."


    The reading of Ember''s thoughts and emotions wasn¡¯t an easy task. That angelic face rarely showed exaggerated expressions. "Oh. Okay. And?"


    "They didn''t listen to me and dismissed the matter as a ''mistake that can happen''. We can add Colonel Oblam and Lieutenant Alpes to the list of suspects."


    Ember hesitated for a moment. "Alpes? Really?"


    "Yes. Why?" Light frowned, wondering if trusting a cadet was the best idea. If Ember had been one of those young girls crushing on one of her superiors, she might have become biased and interfered with the investigation.


    She clucked her tongue. No, now that she thought about it, she had been an idiot. She had to handle this herself...


    "No, nothing. Just that I thought you were friends, you and him," Ember finally replied.


    Light was speechless for a few seconds. "What? Me and that snoop?"


    She could have sworn Ember was trying to hold back a smile. "It''s just that he calls you by name, and I heard you tell him about the mission, so I thought..."


    "He''s a distant relative." Light leaned her back against the wall. "On my father''s side. That''s why he''s¡­ like that."


    And Light could hardly stand him, any more than she could stand her father. That damned kinship was also one of the reasons why many superiors treated her with condescension, assuming that Light held her position as Sergeant at such a young age out of favoritism.


    "And you still suspect him?"


    "Like I said, I don''t trust anyone right now."


    Ember ran a hand through her hair. "To tell you the truth, he gave me a strange feeling earlier too. Although I don''t rule out the possibility that I was just pissed off because he forced me to spend the afternoon socializing." She shuddered, as if the mere memory was enough to repel her.


    Light raised her eyebrow in amusement. "I noticed you were talking about very interesting subjects," she teased.


    "Very interesting for an anthropological study, perhaps. I just felt like jumping off a cliff. Some of them miraculously survived the mission, and now they talk about men as if nothing had happened."


    Light shook her head, not at all surprised. But Ember''s disgusted tone reminded her of her own, from when she was a teenager, avoiding girl groups with all her might so she didn''t have to answer uncomfortable questions. "If it''s any consolation, I didn''t get much better. Instead of discussing the mission, Oblam and Alpes spent a good twenty minutes talking about tea."


    Ember hid a laugh behind her fist. "I don''t know which is worse."


    It had been a long time since Light had held a conversation longer than a handful of sentences with anyone. She suspected that Ember was a mature girl, but she had not expected it to be so... easy to talk to her. Light wasn¡¯t there to chat, though. She had an important job to do. And maybe Ember really could have turned out to be a great ally.


    "I''ve noticed you''re good at going unnoticed."


    There was a moment of hesitation. Ember shrugged, unconvinced, or maybe just confused. "I guess," she muttered. She was hiding something more; her tone was low and tentative again. It reminded Light that at the end of the day, she was just a young girl, struggling every day with a world that, for some reason, had always mocked her. Maybe Light was making a mistake, relying on a cadet like her would have been unprofessional. But even her plan wasn¡¯t exactly professional either.


    It was a bad idea, she knew it. And yet...


    "I need you to infiltrate Colonel Oblam''s office."

 Chapter 5

    "What?"


    Ember narrowed her eyes. What was more absurd, that she had to sneak into the Colonel''s office or that her own Sergeant was asking her to do it?


    Ferun moved her back away from the wall and took a few steps down the corridor. Her arms crossed, her head raised as if looking at the ceiling, her back to Ember. The uniform fit her well, hugging her narrow waist and athletic frame. "I''m not asking you to do this alone. Of course I''ll be there to help you, and if we get caught, I''ll take full responsibility."


    The muscles of her face relaxed. Ember leaned a hand against the wall, the vibrating electromagnetic field tickling her skin. She had expected nothing less from the Sergeant. Though her life at the Academy had been anything but easy, she had had one constant, a woman she admired for her strength and great sense of morality.


    "I''m asking you because I''ve noticed that you''re good at going unnoticed," Ferun continued.


    "You want to use my invisible girl skills?"


    Ember barely suppressed a giggle. Taking a place in the room and becoming a mirror for others'' eyes was a skill she had had to develop as a child. How many times had her father, beer bottle in hand, needed someone to take his anger out on? So many. And each time, Ember was there, yet she was not: a smoky presence watching in silence.


    Ferun let out a half snort and turned in her direction. "You don''t have to say yes to me. It''s not an order."


    Her heart beat to the rhythm of a love song in her chest. Ember clutched the drawing tighter in the vain hope that it could help her calm down.


    You''re pathetic. Do you really think she cares about your skills? What skills, come on, give me a break.


    Shushing her father, or the miniature version of him living in her head, took several tries. Finally she succeeded, at least for the next five minutes she was free. "What is it, then?"


    "A request." The Sergeant''s tone was intense, yet almost a whisper.


    Ember really didn''t need to think about it. She knew she had no chance with her. And she didn''t care. Every single word of appreciation from Ferun was enough to put her father''s miniature version behind bars. They drowned him in a cascade of cleansing, warm water.


    "I''ll help you," she said, her throat dry. She cleared it, but to no avail.


    The other gave her a nod. A silent thanks, perhaps. She unfastened a bracelet from her wrist, its stiff texture and soft color, and handed it to Ember. "I will contact you."


    Ember hesitated, confused. Why was she giving her a bracelet now? But without question, cheeks burning, she grabbed it. She weighed it between her fingers: it was still warm. The thought that it had been in close contact with the Sergeant''s skin until that moment made her stomach churn.


    "It''s a covert communication device. I have another connected to this one, so that we can exchange information without the risk of being intercepted."


    "Oh." Ember turned it between her fingers. "Thank you. But how does it work? Do I have to talk close to it?" She brought the bracelet to her lips and whispered, "Testing, testing. Code red."


    She felt stupid when she saw Ferun''s confused expression. "No, no need."


    The Sergeant reached out and took her wrist. Her fingers were cold and calloused, but she carefully tied the bracelet around her wrist.


    Don''t get any funny ideas. Please concentrate.


    When she was done, Ferun pressed her fingertip against the bracelet. At first, nothing happened - except for a whole herd of bulls jumping into Ember''s stomach. Then a blueish light crossed the Sergeant''s fingernail; it blinked for a few seconds and went out.


    "Touch it. And say ''connect.''"


    Ferun''s extreme proximity and her scent of cherry and leather made it difficult for her to remember how to move. After a moment''s hesitation, Ember pressed her forefinger against the wristband, as her Sergeant had just done. "Connect..." she murmured in a shaky voice.


    The bracelet quivered, as if it contained a small motor inside. It emitted a series of ''beeps'' and a faint surge of energy coursed through her body. The hair on her arms stood on end.


    Ember recognized an electromagnetic field, felt the faint pulsing of that force against her own skin, where she touched the bracelet.


    "It''s now connected to you. To use it, all you have to do is touch it, as you just did. Once you feel the vibration, that means it''s on and ready to send your message."


    Advanced technology. Ember recalled reading about similar devices in her classes. Used for coded communication between two individuals, they had originated as tools for the military, but their adaptability had made them popular with spies. Soldiers of higher ranks almost always received a pair too.


    "Um, okay." She lifted her wrist and noticed that as small as the bracelet was, it weighed a lot. Must be the electromagnetic field.


    Ferun took a few steps back. The lack of that warmth so close to her allowed Ember to breathe more easily. "It recognizes the tone of your voice. It will isolate it from outside noise, so don''t worry about bringing it close to your mouth. No need."


    "Cool."


    Ember could communicate with the Sergeant in secret. A necessity, given her cooperation in finding the traitor among the higher ranks. Her lovesick teenage heart, however, imagined a different scenario: them getting to know each other, coded conversations, little jokes that could make them feel almost like friends...


    Getting more and more ridiculous, aren''t ya?


    Ferun moved her feet towards the hallway. "I''ll let you know as soon as I have a plan."


    "Sure."


    The Sergeant walked away and Ember stood still, looking at her, almost in a trance. No matter how much she called herself stupid, she couldn''t wipe the smile from her lips.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ?????????


    The library was off limits for the day, thanks to Alpes. It would have been rude to go back in and take a seat away from the small group she had left without a word. And odd. So Ember gave up the prospect of drawing and reading among the books and decided to take a walk.


    The gardens of the Academy greeted her with a breath of fresh air and the scent of lilies. Ember closed her eyes to enjoy the feeling of lightness, away from the electromagnetic field that operated the elevators and doors in the Academy.


    She remembered her first day there. It had felt like a five-pound weight on her back, each step more and more exhausting. Her first run through boot camp, ah, what a disaster. The Sergeant''s stern gaze juggled the new cadets, brandishing those who had not made it to the end. Ember was among them. Not the best start.


    Ember followed the cobblestone path to a bench. She dropped onto it with a resounding sigh. The burn in her leg continued to give her trouble; sometimes it was easier to distract herself, to let the feeling of the tugging skin fade into the background, but in moments of sharp stinging it was impossible. Leaving the drawing beside her, Ember turned to the white side of the paper and leaned her head back. She bit her lip to stifle a groan.


    She closed her eyes, the voices around her fading away. All that remained was the cawing of crows pawing over the meadow, the scent of lilies, and the cool breeze that ruffled her hair.


    The idea of sneaking into Colonel Oblam''s study unnerved her. The fact that the Sergeant was relying on her sent a wave of anxiety through her, locking her muscles and confusing her thoughts: what was she supposed to be looking for? what if she found incriminating files and was unable to recognize them? what if she left everything so that the Colonel would notice the intrusion? The Sergeant would have found out what an idiot Ember really was, what an imbecile she was.


    You''re going to ruin everything. You know it and I know it. You''d better go home and do what your mother always does: screw up and be useless.


    Ember gritted her teeth, her fingers gripping the edge of the bench. No, fuck her father. She didn''t have to listen to him. He was the useless one, the insulting microbe who wasted his days yelling and drinking.


    She opened her eyes, blinded by the gardens'' colors. Someone stood beside her, the weight of his gaze pinning her to the bench like an electromagnetic field. Phoenix gave her a broad smile as soon as Ember turned to face him, his green hair lifted into a snappy style. It had grown back since she had last seen him, as had the beard that covered his chin.


    "Hey, Leroy. I hear you''re some kind of little heroine, huh?"


    Ember blushed, hating the damn heat in her cheeks. "Heroine sounds a little strong to me, General."


    He opened his arms, shrugged, and ran a hand through his hair. "You shot down a Vylian. That''s not something you do every day."


    As it turned out, the Sergeant had not only reported the details to Alpes: perhaps it was information gleaned from her mission report. Ember rested both palms on the bench, the cold iron helping to calm her nerves. "I just got lucky."


    "There''s no such thing as luck." Phoenix sat beside her, the drawing acting as a wall between them. "There are only people who take action and make things happen, and people who stand still and let things happen."


    Ember averted her attention. She was usually the classic let things happen person. Even she did not know why she had decided to do something that day. Perhaps the prospect of getting away from the carnage of the battlefield had been the real driving force, and others had mistaken it for courage.


    "A real tragedy, for your dead comrades," Phoenix continued. "If I had not already been engaged in another mission, I might have been able to join you before things got so bad."


    What difference would one extra soldier have made, no matter how strong the General might have been? Ember avoided asking the question, not wanting to start an unnecessary conflict with Phoenix. She already knew that he would reply with a few more wise generalities, and while she could usually appreciate them, she really didn''t feel like hearing them that day.


    "How did your mission go?" she rather asked, hoping to change the subject.


    "Very well. We broke through the Ysnian defenses and freed Gertha. Now we can use the city as a checkpoint again."


    At least things were improving somewhere. Ember could not help but wonder why the Ysnians had wasted all those resources fighting a bunch of inexperienced cadets and saving useless ancient ruins instead of strengthening the defenses in Gertha. A pointless strategy. Unless there was something she did not know. Maybe the Ysnians had hoped to find some ancient weapons in the ruins? Or maybe they thought Gertha was expendable?


    "Your leg won''t let you train for a while, huh?" Phoenix asked. He leaned his upper body towards her, as if he wanted to watch her closely. His eyes wandered down, looking for a bandage hidden under her pants.


    "Yes. But I hope I can recover soon," Ember said without much conviction.


    "I really hope so. It would be a shame for you to fall behind in training. Picking up the pace after a break is hard enough, it might even be stressful if you''re forced to see your comrades who have moved on in the meantime."


    A panacea for her fears. Ember ventured a tentative smile, not quite sure what to answer. Sometimes she didn''t understand what her superiors expected of her when they came up with these ''motivational'' speeches. In her head, she knew they were just trying to help her, but part of her wondered why they couldn''t leave her alone.


    They all expected too much from her.


    As if it depended on her will to heal the wound.


    Phoenix stood up again and stretched his arms over his head. "But I''m sure it won''t be a problem for you. You''ll heal soon, you''ll see." He let out a half moan as he straightened his back. Then his attention turned to the Academy entrance, and he waved. "Hey, Mark!"


    It was no secret that Mark Terris was Phoenix''s favorite cadet. Especially since Mark took every opportunity to remind everyone of that. Ember planted her feet firmly on the ground, questioning the stability of her own leg as she planned an escape.


    Mark joined them with his haughty stride. He always seemed to have a pole up his ass. Not that there were few people who wanted to shove said pole into his sensitive areas, so for all Ember knew, maybe he really did have one. "General! I thought you weren''t due back until tomorrow."


    "We managed to dislodge the Ysnians more easily than we expected. So here I am."


    Mark greeted him with a hand over his heart, Phoenix held out his own instead. The two exchanged a manly squeeze.


    "It would have been nice if you had returned a day earlier. Maybe we would have had a capable superior to defend us," Mark said.


    Ember longed to stand up and kick him in the groin. But she kept her eyes down, only half sitting on the bench, ready to leave. First, though, she had to make sure that the blowhard wasn''t going to intercept her.


    Phoenix rubbed his chin. "You had Ferun with you, didn''t you?"


    "Exactly. The Sergeant is only useful to get us three hundred laps around the field."


    "Mark, she is your superior. And she is very capable. I understand you''re angry, but what happened wasn''t her fault."


    Mark let out a dismissive huff, but he dared not disagree. He liked to act big in front of his comrades, but in the presence of his beloved General, he became a sucker. Pathetic.


    As if you''re not.


    "Anyway, may I ask you for some private training, General? I want to become stronger, to be more useful in really serious situations."


    He still hadn''t digested the fact that Ember had outperformed him in the last mission. Phoenix flashed an enthusiastic smile and patted him on the shoulder. "Gladly. It''s always good to see such a willing young cadet."


    Ember rolled her eyes and got to her feet. She had had enough of Mark and his need for attention for the day. Neither of them noticed her leaving, too busy arguing to find a time to see each other for their private training. Ember walked back to the Academy entrance, her fingers playing with the bracelet on her wrist.


    It wasn''t until she reached her room that she realized she had forgotten the drawing on the bench.

 Chapter 6

    Water always cleansed her thoughts. The horror at the prospect of infiltrating the Colonel''s study? Vaporized. The fear of not finding the drawing after returning to the bank to look for it? Gone. Her father''s complaints about how pathetic she was? Dissipated.


    Yet a slimy, disgusting creature still crawled beneath her skin. It gave her sudden rushes of adrenaline, accompanied by the urge to hit something. And every time she imagined that something, it was Mark''s idiotic face. The very existence of that bastard repulsed her. She put some shampoo on her hands and massaged her scalp, but her muscles remained tense.


    She hated him. She wished he would cease to exist, that his presence would be erased from the world.


    She sighed and leaned her hands against the wall in front of her. The water washed the soap off her, flowing over her skin like a balm. A balm that could do nothing against the snarling force vibrating in her chest.


    Ember hated that too. She didn''t want to be an angry person like her father. But no matter how hard she tried to keep it inside, it kept eating away at her organs, piece by piece.


    She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a robe around her body. The burn on her thigh had become horrible, full of pustules that pulsed as if they were alive. If they had burst sooner or later and released some flying creature, she wouldn''t have been surprised. Little bats, maybe. Every time Ember bent her knee, her skin pulled, and the burn sent her memories of boiling steam.


    She had left a pile of books scattered on the bed. Not the tidiest. The bracelet lay on top of a tome with a sickly, mouse-colored cover, the words ''History of Valestria'' in large letters in the background. It glowed blue. Ember took it between her fingers and immediately felt the vibration of the magnetic field.


    Then a voice came, right into her head.


    "Ember?"


    "Aah!" She dropped the bracelet on the bed with a small cry. Was that... the Sergeant? Cautiously, as if approaching an angry wildcat, Ember picked up the object and touched its surface with her finger. "Sergeant?"


    "Ember, it''s about time. I''ve been trying to call you for twenty minutes."


    "Ah, yes." Ember lowered her gaze. Except for the towel wrapped around her, she was naked. And she was talking to the Sergeant with water still dripping from her hair. "I took it off to...um, shower."


    "No need to take it off, it''s waterproof."


    Her brain stopped working. It went into total meltdown. True, the bracelet would also eliminate any background noise, which meant that her Sergeant could be anywhere right now. If she wouldn''t even take it off to take a shower, then there were possibilities that...


    No, no. I needed a cold shower, not a hot one.


    Ember sat down on the bed. Fortunately, the other could not see the embarrassment oozing from every pore of her skin. "Sorry, I didn''t know..."


    "Never mind. I heard the Colonel will be gone for a few days. Tomorrow might be the best time to get into his office."


    Already? Of course, that made sense; Ferun didn''t have much time to waste. Ember nodded before remembering that the other could not see her. "When?"


    "At the end of the day, come to my office."


    The bracelet lit up again and then went out. Ember sighed, aware that her Sergeant was no longer listening to her. Then she curled up on the bed, knees to her chest. She couldn''t make it. Ferun would be disappointed, because Ember was good for nothing.


    After an eternity, she found the strength to get up, put on her pajamas, and take her books off the bed. She also took off her bracelet, but soon changed her mind. She put it back on her wrist and lay down on the mattress. Despite the fatigue of the day, sleep was slow to come. And when it did, it brought the usual nightmares.


    Ember awoke the next morning with sweat clinging to her pajamas. Sunlight filtered lazily through the curtains, a blade of light slicing through her eyes. She got to her feet with a groan. Her leg held her with more stability, the pain was still there, the feeling of a pair of pliers pulling at her skin tortured her. But it was bearable.


    Enough to return to training?


    Ember jumped in place. "Ouch!" she hissed. She didn''t bend over, though. A good start.


    She put on her uniform, a depressing dark blue, the masculine cut hiding the few curves she had. Not an excess of femininity, of course, but she wouldn''t be at a military academy if femininity was her forte.


    She left the dormitory and walked down the corridors towards the boot camp. Phoenix''s words came back to her. It would be a shame for you to fall behind''. Ember didn''t want to fall behind. Her skills sucked pretty hard already, at least compared to more talented cadets like that damned assface Mark.


    She sensed the voices before she even reached the field. Phoenix came out of the corner, followed by a line of cadets. Mark and Jason in the front row.


    Ember froze, confused. They all had their weapons strapped to their belts, their expressions serious and focused. She recognized the procedure: they were going on a mission. Again. And she knew nothing about it.


    Mark paused to give her a wry smile. "Hey, Leroy, have fun warming up our bench."


    "Mark, stop fooling around." Phoenix ruffled his hair. The other complained, but made no objection. The General turned to Ember. "We got a sudden mission. It''s supposed to be a simple one, but as a precaution they decided to send me as well."


    At the back of the line, Sergeant Ferun followed the cadets with a tense step. She didn''t hold her head up as she usually did to make sure her recruits obeyed her. Ember felt a pang in her chest to see her like this. Her superiors blamed her for what had happened, that much was clear. Just like Mark had done.


    "I can come too, I''m better now," Ember said in an almost petulant tone. A desperate child, that''s what she sounded like.


    Ferun raised her eyes to meet Ember''s, but stood still and silent. It was Phoenix to tap her on the shoulder - Ember closed her eyes, the images of her angry father vivid in her mind. "You''d better stay here. When you''re better, you''ll make up, okay?"


    Ember could only nod, meekly. Phoenix ordered the others to follow him, and they did so without a fuss. Only Mark hesitated, grinning in her direction, and Ferun nodded at her. It was hard to tell if it was a greeting or a moment of complicity.


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    When they were gone, Ember was left alone with her own thoughts.


    I told you you were useless.


    Deprived of her own energy, as if they had drained it with a Ysnian spell, Ember made her way back to her room. But barely had she taken the first steps when a new idea occurred to her. She couldn''t follow her companions on a mission, but she could still train alone.


    She descended into the training room, where the hum became deafening and the pressure seemed to crush her. Square and empty, this place had always been a portal to another dimension in Ember''s mind. A place where reality could be altered at will. The terminal on the back was blinking. She wasn''t practical with the display; cadets usually didn''t go there alone, although there was no real prohibition against it.


    The interface, however, was simple and intuitive: squares of text asked for a choice of training mode. Ember pressed her finger on the [Hologram Duel] button. She then selected [Cadets] and [A Section] and found herself in front of the entire list of her teammates. Next to each name was a rank.


    [Viola Askew - Rank E]


    [Ciel Milan - Rank D]


    [Jason Oers - Rank D]


    [Mark Terris - Rank C]


    [Ember Leroy - Rank E]


    She was considered Rank E, a full two units lower than Mark. That''s why they were all worried about her falling behind: she was already one of the lowest.


    How could she help Sergeant Ferun like that? She pressed on her own profile, and a picture of her face opened under her parameters.


    [Muscle Strength - E] [Concentration - D]


    [Stamina - E] [Problem Solving - C]


    [Agility and Reaction - E] [Strategic Ability - C]


    [Speed - D] [Equipment Skill - E]


    In short, she sucked. Biting her cheek, Ember went back to check her superiors'' parameters. Many had rank A. Lightara Ferun presented rank S instead, and the only one with an SS was General Phoenix. It didn''t surprise her.


    She went back and opened Mark''s profile. His physical characteristics were above average compared to the other cadets, but in problem solving and strategic skills he had an E. Ember''s perfect nemesis: he excelled where she sucked, and he sucked where she excelled. She pressed her finger on the [Battle] button, and when asked to select a weapon, she chose the electromagnetic pulse sword.


    A magnetic web spread around her fingers. Ember squeezed it, and held up the empty-weight sword. An imitation of the real thing, it would only harm other holograms. She turned to find Mark''s hologram waiting for her with glazed eyes, weapon raised in a guard posture.


    Without warning, Mark shot forward. The blade low, he feinted a slash from below. Ember stepped back, gasping; Mark delivered another blow, in a silent dance of electric vibrations. The weapon slammed into her own, in a flash of mock sparks. He pushed, forcing her back with brute force alone.


    With each step, the burn on her leg pulsed, a maddening red alert. Ember stomped her feet and bent her knees.


    Find your balance and no one can move you.


    The Sergeant was right. It was less a matter of strength than of balance. But no matter how much she resisted, Mark kept pushing her back.


    No, she couldn''t beat him like that. Screw balance, facing him in his strengths had been a bad idea. She had to change her strategy.


    She threw to the side. Mark staggered forward - here was a weakness of his, he was a big braggart. Ember slashed her blade at his stomach, but he was quicker: his sword crashed into hers, the force of the impact regaining his balance. He turned sharply. Ember moved her foot to get out of his reach; she bent her knee too far, and the red alert on her leg became a stiletto.


    She stumbled like the biggest fool.


    Mark''s sword sliced through her torso in a clean cut. The hologram disintegrated in a shower of sparks before her eyes. Ember found herself with her ass on the floor and her ego under her shoes.


    When will you give up? Can''t do nothing right. You have the balance and reflexes of a drunken sloth.


    "Shut up," she murmured, her voice shaking. Her butt hurt. She could expect a big bruise the next day. She clenched her fingers around nothing and pressed her hands against the cold floor.


    Mark''s cocky grin remained etched in her mind. He and her father stared at her from above, exchanging glances, laughing. They were laughing at her. Because she was stupid. Because she was pathetic. Because she was useless.


    You might as well quit.


    Everyone would be better off if you stopped wasting their time.


    Go home, Ember. You don''t have what it takes.


    You''re ridiculous, Leroy.


    You don''t deserve anyone''s approval. You will disappoint everyone: your General, your Sergeant, everyone.


    Stop fighting, we all know how you''ll end up.


    You''re gonna run away, like you always have.


    Ember covered her ears and curled up on the floor. But what Father and Mark said kept coming out of her. They lived in her head. "Stop it! Shut up!"


    You''re a pathetic excuse for a soldier.


    You want to protect others? When you can''t even protect yourself?


    You want to protect others? Then why did you never protect your mother?


    You want to protect others? It''s just a lie. You''re no angel. You''re full of hate. You just want to burn everything.


    Burn everything. Burn everything. Yes. That''s what she wanted. Annihilate Ysnian. Destroy Valestria. Erase Mark. Burn her father.


    A flame, the flame of rage, kept her alive. It possessed her, made her stand. Like a puppet, she returned to the terminal and pressed the button to start another test battle. This time, when Mark''s hologram attacked, she was ready.


    Ember fought, ignoring the pain in her leg. She brought the sword down with such force, again and again, that her muscles shook with each of Mark''s parries. But she didn''t care. The only thing she saw was his bitchy face. The only thing she heard were the voices in her head.


    She screamed with every blow. She was too slow, too weak, too clumsy. But she couldn''t stop.


    The fire burned in her chest, it wanted to get out. It burned from within, flames lapping at her heart.


    When Mark disarmed her and won again, tears came to her eyes.


    She activated the fight once more.


    She lost again.


    And again.


    And again.


    And again.


    Until even the fire lapped at her throat in one last cry into the void. Ember fell to her knees, salty drops ran down her cheeks and ticked on the floor. She pounded her fist on the ground, no strength left. Too exhausted. She could barely see, her hands shaking. Her right biceps had a constant spasm.


    A ringing filled her ears. And then, in that sudden silence, came the sobs. Because, after all, her father was right: all she could do was cry.

 Chapter 7

    Ember pretended to study to distract herself. Professor Liuman, ferret-faced and with large incisors, pointed to a 3D map of the kingdom of Valestria as he gave her a private lesson in military strategy.


    "The Ysnians have sent a fleet of about a dozen Vylians to fly across the ocean until they reach Bethus. Our defenses protect the Academy, so all they can do is destroy the rest of the city. Unfortunately, most of our resources have already been sent to Gertha to defend it from a squadron of iron monsters."


    Ember watched without much attention. Her chin rested on her hand. Still tired and exhausted, she felt empty. A firework that had already exploded and was now nothing but dust.


    The outline of the Vylians appeared on the map. Large iron balls flew over the buildings.


    "How would you try to resolve the situation?"


    A dilemma to which perhaps no one would ever find a meaningful answer. Without resources or soldiers, all that was left was a handful of untrained cadets and infantry weapons that were useless against the Vylians. Defending the city would have been nearly impossible.


    Evacuating everyone was a possibility, but the casualties would have been too high and the damage too great. Bethus would not have stood a chance, and if the Ysnians had taken it, it would''ve been a blow to Valestria.


    Ember ran a hand through her hair, a spark of energy flickering in her stomach. "I''d take down the Academy''s defenses. That''s the Ysnians'' real goal; they''d find the idea of taking out a bunch of cadets and a good chunk of officers with one shot very juicy." She tapped the area of the map that represented the Academy. The view zoomed in; the Academy''s high walls towered over the city. "The Vylians would surround it for a concentrated attack."


    Professor Liuman scratched his chin. His face was sullen, and Ember''s conviction wavered. He didn''t look impressed, he looked confused.


    You''re talking bullshit, that''s why.


    Despite her indecision, Ember could no longer back down; she had to keep going. "Once they''re inside, I''d bring the defenses back up to keep them trapped. I''d increase the strength of the electromagnetic field at least tenfold. Gravity should suffer enough to make the Vylians heavier and slower, perhaps even unable to fly high."


    The more she spoke, the more her vision came to life. She imagined the Vylians unable to move as they wished, those huge iron spheres losing altitude. Their eyes flashing blue, shooting magic beams in slow motion. It would have been difficult even for Vylians to move, but not if the strength of the magnetic field had only been increased in the gardens, outside the Academy, and not inside.


    "At that point, we could send teams of three cadets to each Vylian, each led by an officer or one of the top recruits. It''d be enough to jump out the windows to reach them. The weak point of the Vylians is the core, which is in a protective glass at the top. All you have to do is release the magnetic field, allow the soldiers to move freely and destroy the core before the Vylian can recover."


    Ember leaned back against the seat, her face hot. Only then did she notice the deafening pounding of her own heart in her ears.


    Professor Liuman gasped wordlessly. After a few, very long seconds, he placed his glasses better on his nose, and his sullen expression broke into a smile. The beaver teeth popped out again. "A very far-fetched plan. There are a lot of ifs, starting with the fact that we can''t be sure that all the Vylians will surround the Academy. But it''s certainly a very good start."


    She hadn''t screwed up.


    Ember left Professor Liuman''s office with a new flame burning in her chest. Small, flickering, it threatened to go out with every step she took. And yet, there it was again, a reminder that she might be useful in something after all. Maybe she should be a strategist.


    You could never handle the weight of responsibility. Remember how many times you ran away?


    Still, her father was always there to bring her back down to earth.


    Ember spent part of the afternoon debating whether to refuse the Sergeant''s offer of cooperation. Of course, the very prospect made her stomach turn. It meant running away, following the most cowardly part of herself; it meant enduring the disappointed look on the Sergeant''s face, perhaps even a scowl of judgment.


    How can you hope to be a good soldier like that?


    The rest of the time, she used it to search the library for information on how to open a locked door without using a key and without leaving a trace behind. The procedure, she discovered, was easier than it seemed. All that was needed was to cut the connection between the door and the electromagnetic field, and then use the security procedure to open it. She reread these terms at least a dozen times, consulted a few theoretical holographic representations to make sure she had a clear mental picture as well.


    Towards dusk, when she returned to her room, she felt she could do it. She waited for Ferun''s call with trembling hands and churning bowels, but she was determined to try. If she failed, the Sergeant promised to take the blame, but Ember decided she wouldn''t let that happen. Failing would be Ember''s to blame, and she alone would pay.


    As the bracelet sent a jolt down her wrist, Ember sat at her desk, sketching the door mechanism. A way to check her fears and banish them. She immediately pressed her finger to the wristband.


    "Ember? Are you there?"


    "Sarge, yes, I''m in my dorm. Did the mission go well?" A part of Ember had been worried all day. This sudden new mission could have been another trap, and although Phoenix''s presence should have reassured her, it was not enough.


    There was a pause on the other side. Ember shifted her weight in the chair. Her body creaked with every movement like an old Ysnian machine. She wouldn''t have been surprised if she started puffing smoke and falling apart.


    Typical of her. She didn''t ask enough of herself until she asked too much at once.


    "It was an easy mission. We went back to the ruins and salvaged a few pieces of ancient Ysnian technology that still worked."


    Good news, at least.


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    The Sergeant continued before the other could answer, "I''ll be waiting for you in front of my office in ten minutes. Don''t be late."


    Ember sighed, her whole body shaking. The moment had come. She left the room. She had put on simple pants and a baggy t-shirt instead of a uniform. After being punched by Mark''s hologram about fifty times, the uniform was soaked with sweat, so a shower was in order once she was back in the room.


    On the way, she met Alpes, with his warm smile and the buttons of his uniform undone. Underneath was a glimpse of his dark shirt, neatly pressed against his chest. "Hey, where are you going at this hour?" He stopped just outside the entrance to the west wing, where the officers'' offices were. Maybe he was leaving his own.


    Ember chewed her lip. "Um, Sergeant Ferun asked me to meet her." Which was no lie, even if the time seemed odd.


    Beyond the windows, the sky had gone dark. The glass reflected the inside of the Academy onto the darkness of the gardens outside.


    "Oh, did you upset her?" Alpes chuckled. "Good luck then." He winked at her and walked away, fastening his buttons.


    Who knew why he looked so messy.


    Ember preferred not to imagine possible scenarios - her mind tended to go to places that were anything but appropriate. She passed the archway leading to the west wing and made her way through the sealed office doors. A stony silence prevailed, made even gloomier by the constant buzzing in the air.


    Ferun waited outside her office. Unlike Alpes, who looked as if he had just returned from a secret meeting with his lover, Ferun was the picture of composure: perfect uniform, tidy hair, straight back. She didn''t even look tired, even though she had just returned from a mission. Her professionality was one of the reasons Ember admired her, as well as one of the qualities that sometimes made her weak on the knees.


    The Sergeant noticed her immediately and greeted her with a nod. "You''re two minutes late."


    Ember pinched the skin of her arm. "Yeah, um, I met Lieutenant Alpes outside."


    The other huffed, her hand on her hip. "Always him. That man is everywhere."


    Ember had noticed that trait, too. Alpes liked to stick his beak everywhere, and it was impossible to walk around the Academy without running into him at least once. A smile crossed her face. "Maybe he has clones he sends around to gather gossip."


    It was only a moment, but Ferun lifted the corner of her lips in a half-smile. "That''d explain a few things."


    The Sergeant motioned for her to follow, and escorted her down the hall to the colonel''s room. Ember trailed without a fuss. Not a single light came from behind the hardened glass of the doors. Everyone had left, she thought, and only the two of them remained.


    "Alpes looked messy," she said suddenly. She ignored the heat in her cheeks. She didn''t know if it was a hint or if she was just poking her nose into the Lieutenant''s personal business.


    Ferun didn''t turn to look at her. "Isn''t he always?"


    "Well, compared to you, who isn''t?" It came out of her mouth, but she quickly curled her tongue.


    Idiot.


    Ember lowered her gaze, the other''s look a weight on her shoulders. "I mean, he was messier than usual. Hair tousled, jacket unbuttoned.... He didn''t even pepper me with questions like he usually does."


    Ferun didn''t answer her right away. After a moment of silence, her boots clicking on the floor with each step, she decided to break the silence. "Was he alone?"


    "Yes. Why?"


    "Nothing, never mind."


    What did that mean?


    It isn''t true that they are related. Think about it, there were only the two of them here. What can you think of, huh?


    Ember grabbed the pendant around her neck. It was just stupid paranoia, she told herself. Allowing herself to get carried away with these unfounded assumptions would only drive her crazy. As a distraction, she recalled the depictions of techniques for opening the door. But an invisible weight continued to press on her chest.


    Ferun stopped in front of the last room with her arms crossed. The inscription ''Colonel Oblam'' was barely visible in the darkness, an opaque plaque on the wall. As expected, the door remained locked, no matter how many times the Sergeant waved her hand under the motion sensors.


    She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "It''s locked."


    Ember blinked, surprised. "It was a little obvious," she admitted.


    The other kicked the door. The clang echoed in the hallway.


    "Hey, wait!" Ember held up her hands as if to calm the other. She was beginning to recognize a pattern in the Sergeant''s instincts: when something didn''t work, she kicked it. Maybe, all things considered, Ember could actually be useful to her.


    "What?" Ferun blurted out. Who knew if the mission had stressed her more than necessary. She seemed even more impatient than usual.


    "I''ve done some research. There is a way to get in without leaving a trace."


    The Sergeant took a few steps away to make room for her. She said nothing, but that was fine. Ember went to work: as she had read and observed at least a dozen times that afternoon, she opened the dark glass door next to the door. Colored wires intertwined. One of them, red, barely vibrating, twisted around the others like a snake trying to block its prey.


    Ember grabbed it. It was a barely perceptible sensation, the energy pinching her fingertips. She released it from her grip. There was an effect on the door, but it was certainly not visible.


    She wiped her forehead with her wrist. Then she closed the flap again and moved to the shimmering panel on the door. She pressed the emergency key combination.


    The door opened with a slight snort.


    Ember realized she had held her breath until that moment. She gasped to catch her breath.


    Ferun raised an eyebrow. "Good job." She walked inside and Ember followed, her heart pounding.


    The Colonel''s office smelled of leaves and tea. A cage of canaries hung in front of the closed window; they flapped their wings as soon as they heard the intrusion. Ember winced - she had never liked birds, too unpredictable, and their spastic flapping made her sick. Ferun didn''t even pay attention; she went to the desk without hesitation. She rummaged through the drawers, a frown on her face.


    Ember walked as far away from the canary cage as she could. She patted some scratches on the desk, wondering how Colonel Oblam had made them. Or if they had been there when he had inherited the office.


    "What are we looking for?"


    "Anything that looks suspicious."


    Not a very helpful answer, but Ember said nothing. She helped the Sergeant go through the files and papers scattered around. Until Ferun dropped a file on the desk. She read the papers silently.


    "Did you find anything?" Ember approached her, stopping behind her back.


    "I don''t know. They''re written in code."


    "Maybe we should take them with us? Analyze them quietly?"


    Ferun nodded. She tucked the file under her arm. "You''re right, let''s go."


    But she couldn''t even finish the words.


    A sound of approaching footsteps echoed in the hall.

 Chapter 8

    Ember''s eyes went wide and she gripped the edge of the desk so hard that she hurt herself. Whoever was out there seemed to have stopped a few doors away. An officer who had forgotten something in their office? Was there a chance that they would notice Oblam''s open door and decide to check if everything was okay?


    Ferun moved first, with a quickness Ember could only dream of: she grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind the desk. The two of them crouched on the floor. Close together. A little too close.


    Sergeant''s scent of cherry and leather was strong. Ember tried to focus on that rather than the mad pounding of her heart or her trembling hands.


    In the dim light, only one side of Ferun''s face was clearly visible. The other was hidden, like a dark mask. Like the dark side of the moon. The Sergeant put a finger to her lips as footsteps echoed down the corridor again, coming closer and closer.


    Ember covered her mouth and nose with one hand. Every single breath that came out of her sounded louder than drums. Her eyes fell on the Sergeant''s neck, and for a moment she thought about sinking her face into it, letting the skin muffle her breaths. It only made her more agitated.


    The unknown presence entered the office. The canaries let out high-pitched chirps and fluttered their wings as if mad. Ember avoided looking at them and closed her eyes. Why couldn''t that damned Oblam keep a less horrible animal? Like a hamster. Hamsters were cute.


    Whoever the intruder was, they approached the cage and banged on it with a little too much force. It rocked, and the poor canaries chirped.


    Love for animals didn''t seem to be their greatest quality.


    Ember squeezed closer to the Sergeant without realizing it, trying to hide from the intruder''s gaze. Ferun put a hand on her back and pulled her close. Ember almost fell on top of her.


    The person stopped in front of the office cabinet, grabbed something, and slammed it down on the desk. The rustling of papers was almost deafening. They stood there for about ten seconds, then turned on the light and the room instantly lit up. Ember tightened her eyelids, her retinas too sensitive after all this time in the dark.


    The intruder resumed leafing through the papers as calmly as ever. Had they found anything interesting? Hardly, considering that it was stuff Ferun had discarded, and that possible evidence of treason - or who knew what else - lay under the Sergeant''s arm. Still, the intruder went through page after page, as if they were searching for something, not afraid of being discovered.


    It could not be Oblam, that much was obvious. Even the reaction of the canaries had been disproportionate.


    It couldn''t be Oblam, that was obvious. The canaries'' reaction was also disproportionate.


    But who then? Another officer? And why were they wasting time reading reports instead of making sure no one was there?


    They had waited a long time. So long that Ember''s feet fell asleep. She tried to move them a little, just enough to get her circulation going again. Blood coursed through her veins, bringing with it a myriad of pawing ants. She grabbed the fabric of her pants and squeezed hard to hold back a moan.


    Ferun noticed her discomfort. She pressed a hand to her lips to keep her quiet. Ember found herself with her head against the Sergeant''s chest, soft and firm at the same time. She could die happy now.


    Finally, the intruder left.


    They turned off the light behind them and walked down the corridor to the west wing exit. Not a single breath, not a single sigh, nothing. Even recognizing their gender was impossible.


    Both waited until they were sure the intruder was gone. Then Ferun stood up. Ember imitated her, sinking her teeth into her lip from the tingling in her feet and the burning from the wound in her leg. She looked like crap, like an Ysnian wreck.


    "I didn''t see that coming." The Sergeant patted the remaining papers on the desk. They were even more of a mess than they had left them. "Looks like we''re not the only ones investigating Oblam."


    Ember tapped the floor lightly with her toes to get the circulation going again. "What if it was Alpes? He was the last one out of here and he looked strange."


    Do you really believe that or are you just testing the waters for the thousandth time?


    Ferun gave her an intense look. "He was with me when Oblam dismissed the problem," she said. But then she shook her head. "But Alpes is not the type to do that. He prefers to maintain harmony, he hates conflict with all of himself."


    The Sergeant''s tone was almost disgusted, as if she thought Alpes was a spineless man. Ember nodded, and maybe she should''ve been glad to know once and for all that there was nothing between them, but instead she only felt worse. Ferun despised people who ran away from conflict.


    She despises you.


    "It doesn''t matter now. Let''s go before someone else comes." Ferun started to leave.


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    "Wait!" At Ember''s call, the other stopped and gave her a questioning look. "Um, it would be better to put things back first. Otherwise Oblam might suspect something."


    "We weren''t the only ones who came here."


    "No. But the mess is still a clue that could lead to us."


    After a moment''s thought, the Sergeant sighed and gave in. "All right, but let''s get a move on."


    Ember had a photographic memory. A quality that had saved her from a lot of gaslighting before she arrived at the Academy. It was easy for her, after a few tries, to figure out where to put each misplaced item. When she was sure she had achieved a decent result, she followed the Sergeant out of the room. She reconnected the red cable to allow the electromagnetic energy to flow to the door.


    Ferun escorted her to her own office. Compared to Oblam''s, it was tidier. A few books with worn covers stood on the shelves, supported by trophies. A few medals hung on hooks on the wall. The desk was empty. There were no canaries or birds of any kind either, which was surely good news.


    A clean scent hung in the air, mixed with the usual typical Sergeant''s smell. Were it not for the slightly chilly atmosphere, Ember would have thought she wanted to move in, sleep in the chairs and be lulled by the tidiness.


    Ferun put the stolen file back on the desk. "Sit down," she told her in a lower, calmer tone than usual.


    Ember took a seat in front of her.


    "You''ve been very helpful." A formal compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. Ember felt her lips curl into a half-smile, her chest swelling with pride.


    She''s just saying that to make you happy, dummy.


    She immediately deflated her chest like a punctured balloon. "Thank you, Sarge," she murmured without conviction.


    Ferun nodded, but seemed distracted. Frowning, she ran her fingertips along the edge of a drawer. Despite her icy demeanor, she had a delicate, almost refined touch. There was an elegance to her movements. "Someone''s been here," she said after a while.


    Ember tilted her head to the side. "What do you mean?"


    "This drawer should be locked." Ferun opened the drawer with a smooth movement. It gave way easily without the need for a key. "Someone opened it."


    "Are you sure you didn''t forget to close it?"


    A stupid question, and Ember regretted saying it as soon as the other glared at her. "No, I''m sure I closed it."


    Ember imagined the intruder from earlier, who, before joining them in Oblam''s office, had stopped here and rifled through the Sergeant''s things. A heat rose in her face and she clenched her fists in sudden anger. "Do you think they were here, too?"


    "Probably." Ferun huffed, her back slumping against the chair. She closed the offending drawer and rested her chin on the back of her hand, her legs crossed. A perfect blend of comfort, strength and elegance.


    Ember swallowed and focused on her own hands in her lap. She twisted her fingers without mercy. Like a fly, she thought, and that made her nose wrinkle in disgust.


    "We have to be careful. It turns out the traitor might not be the only person we have to watch out for," Ferun said.


    "Unless the one from before was indeed the traitor and they were looking for something."


    "It talks about ''agreements accepted'' and ''troops moved''. There''s not much more, it''s all very cryptic." The Sergeant clucked her tongue, piqued. "That damn tea drinker."


    Ember barely smiled, but it lasted a split second. She should have bothered to figure out the meaning of those words, but the truth was that neither of them had enough clues. ''Agreements accepted'' could have meant anything from a secret alliance with the Ysnians to a smooth negotiation for tea leaves.


    What are you still doing here? Can''t you see you''re bothering the Sergeant? Get lost.


    However, leaving the office without being dismissed would have been considered disrespectful. So that thought was meaningless. If she wanted her out, Ferun would have just told her. But as always, it was impossible to get rid of her father''s idiotic and annoying little voice.


    She stood in silence for a long time. She had several scratches on her wrist. As soon as she noticed, she stopped scratching, but it was too late: the skin had turned scarlet. She hid her arm and covered it with the other.


    Ferun closed the file with a sigh. Judging by her expression, she had not found anything useful. She tossed the file into the drawer and locked it. Then she shifted her torso across the desk towards Ember. Devoting her full attention. "Is something wrong?"


    Ember''s throat was dry and parched. She tried to swallow to make it better, but all she felt was a barbed ball stuck in her windpipe. She could have told her anything. Confessed to those sparkling blue eyes every single mental dilemma that plagued her.


    Do you want to show her how pathetic you are?


    The thought tensed her muscles like violin strings. No, she couldn''t. The Sergeant wasn''t paid to listen to her cadets'' complaints.


    "I''m just still a little upset about what happened earlier," she finally said.


    There was a moment of silence between them. They looked at each other, and for a moment Ember thought the other could see the truth. That she could clearly see each and every doubt that plagued her. Breathing became difficult for her.


    But then Ferun leaned back in her chair. "I understand. Try to be careful, whoever it was, it could get dangerous." A sigh. "If you see or hear anything suspicious among your comrades, don''t hesitate to tell me."


    "Of course, Sarge."


    Ferun waved a hand in the air. "You can go now."


    Ember reached the door and leaned her hand against the frame as it opened. She hesitated. What if she had given in and asked the Sergeant for an opinion? Just one? Just a reassurance?


    She will tell you the truth. Which is that you are a pathetic, deluded girl and you had better go home. Is that what you really want to hear? From her of all people?


    No. No, she wouldn''t. She wouldn''t take it.


    So, with one claw gripping her heart in a death grip, she could only find the courage to mutter, "Good night, Sarge."

 Chapter 9

    Morning had come too early. Light was still at her desk, unwrapping the file stolen from Oblam''s office. She searched every page for clues. An explanation. Anything at all. But all she found were code words, deals with mysterious people, and nothing more. The headache came immediately, a pulsing nail in her brain that grew larger by the hour.


    Outside her door, the Academy had awakened to the buzz of voices and the patter of footsteps. A giant creature alive, and Light had been swallowed, a prisoner in its depths. With a snort, she put the file down and laid her head on the desk. She felt it heavy, a vibrating boulder she could not turn off.


    So many thoughts crowded her mind. And while one part of her searched for a solution to Oblam''s riddle and the identity of the intruder, another part replayed the previous day''s mission in an endless loop. The way all her cadets relied on Phoenix. The way they stiffened every time Light was alone with them and the General walked away, as if they felt in danger. Not protected enough. As if the tragedy of the last time was her fault.


    She was looking for a traitor to blame so she would not have to face her own guilt. That was what Oblam had told her.


    What if he was right?


    Surely the cadets were convinced. Mark in primis, always ready to make a few skeptical comments in her presence. A crooked look was enough to shut him up, but no matter how much Light pretended otherwise, his words had taken root in her.


    Maybe it really was her fault.


    Someone knocked at the door. It opened the next moment and Phoenix''s smiling face greeted her on the threshold. "Hey, Ferun. You look like a zombie, are you okay?"


    Light stiffened in an instant. She straightened her back and crossed her legs on the chair. She had to maintain some semblance of composure. "Phoenix, what are you doing here so early in the morning? Don''t you have private training with Terris?" It came out in a venomous tone to her.


    Her tongue curled in reflex. She could never control the frustration. It wasn''t going well. That was why her cadets didn''t trust her. She had to try harder, damn it.


    Phoenix walked in with a bold step. He had something hidden behind his back, and a mischievous child''s smile lit up his eyes. "I know, but I wanted to give you something first."


    Light put her hand under her chin, skeptical. Had she forgotten another one of those silly occasions when men felt compelled to bring gifts to every woman they interacted with because society dictated it? Valestria was full of such holidays: the Moon Festival, the Midsummer Festival, the Mother Goddess Festival. Any excuse was good to remind the women that they, too, were important.


    Too bad a bouquet of flowers only served to enrich the florists.


    Phoenix approached the desk and winked at her. "I know you like to pretend you''re made of iron, but sometimes even you need to be reminded that you''re human."


    Light raised an eyebrow, the nail in her brain vibrating with even more force than before. "If you bring me a bouquet of flowers, I''ll throw you out."


    He laughed and shook his head. "No, don''t worry. It''s not really a gift from me." Before she could reply, he dropped a paper on the desk.


    A drawing. The strokes were light and soft. A stark contrast to the drama of the scene: a woman in armor pointing her sword at a dragon in a crystal palace. Light blinked uncomprehendingly for a few seconds. She picked up the paper between her fingertips, as if afraid to ruin it.


    "What is it?"


    Phoenix puffed out his chest, proud to have handed her the drawing. "Take a good look at the woman. Doesn''t she remind you of someone? She does to me."


    The woman in armor had a tall, slender build. Her hair fell softly over her shoulder, and her expression was serious and determined. Light looked at her bashfully.


    She looked like her.


    "Ember had left it in the gardens. I wanted to return it to her, but then I noticed the resemblance and thought you might want to see it." Phoenix tilted his head to the side, his childish smile full of energy.


    Ember had drawn this picture. The girl''s shy face appeared in her mind as Light stroked the crystal stalactites in the paper. Those big eyes of a frightened fawn.


    The first time she had seen her, Light had wondered why such a docile person would want to be a soldier. She had given her a few weeks at the most before she retired. Instead, Ember had shown unusual discipline. Despite her limited skills in battle, she was always dedicated and followed her orders diligently.


    She trusted Light. You could see it in her eyes when Light approached her to make suggestions. Ember welcomed them eagerly.


    "I know so many blame you for what happened," Phoenix said. It was a stab in the heart, for he knew. He knew that this knowledge was eating Light from within. He shouldn''t have known. "But as you can see, there are those who admire you. You''re not doing anything wrong, just have a little patience. These accidents happen."


    She imagined Ember''s reaction if she knew Phoenix had brought her the drawing. Her pale cheeks would flame in an instant, as if animated by two embers. Light felt the corner of her lips turn up at the thought.


    "You should have brought it back to her," she said to Phoenix. She tried to put some frustration into her tone, but instead it came out playful.


    He shrugged. "I''m sure she''d be happy to know that her art brought a smile to your face. It''s rarer than a rainbow."


    An unusual warmth rose to her face. Light shook her head, struggling to return to her usual serious expression. "Not as rare as you using your head."


    "Ah, that was a low blow. And I was even trying to be nice," Phoenix laughed. "I really must go now. Remember to get some sleep once in a while."


    He left as quickly as he had come. Light sighed, her eyes falling back to the drawing. She looked so proud in that armour. A solid rock to cling to, a heroine ready to face the dragon and save the day.


    An unseen force pressed against her chest. Warm, gentle, like the energy that always surrounded Ember.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ?????????


    They gave her the afternoon off. Light came home with her head still full of thoughts and Ember''s drawing in one hand. She had considered returning it to the girl, but in the end it would only serve to embarrass them both. So she had brought it with her, with the intention of what to do with it, not even she knew.


    No sooner had she closed the door behind her than Eira''s hurried footsteps made the floor shake. She was barefoot, again. And apparently she was having fun pretending to be a sky pirate fighting winged monsters. Unlike Light, Eira had always been an imaginative child. The urge to wreak havoc was not lacking either.


    In the kitchen she found her mother curled up in her antique chair. A piece of furniture that clashed with the more modern, minimalist style of the rest of the house. But the woman was very fond of the old wicker chair, despite the small splinters that tended to stick in the worst places. ''It was your father''s," she used to tell her daughters, "and I''m sure his spirit is still here, watching over us''. If Eira listened with wide blue eyes, Light clicked her tongue and turned away.


    She put the drawing down on the kitchen counter. "Mum, what are you doing up?"


    She gave her a dull smile. The lines around her lips were too deep, her skin as thin as tissue paper and yellowish. The now greying hair a desert steppe. "I felt better today." She did not even have time to finish the sentence before a cough shook her whole body. She raised a handkerchief to her lips. As she pushed it away, a red stain spread across the cloth.


    Light handed her a glass of water. A bramble clogged her throat, the hint of tears stinging behind her eyes. As her mother whispered a "thank you", she stood with one hand on the woman''s shoulder, fighting the urge to hit herself. It was her fault. Her mother had had to get up because Light hadn''t come home, and someone had to look after Eira; leaving ready meals and a handful of coins on the cupboard wasn''t enough.


    "You should be resting," she said, aware of how hypocritical she sounded.


    "Oh, I''m fine. We didn''t get tired. I just played a bit with Eira."


    Light took the glass from her hands and placed it back in the sink. The dishes were piling up. She leaned on the rim and squeezed hard, as if she wanted to break it. Or maybe waiting for it to break her. No. No, she had to pull herself together. She could do it. She just had to tidy up, make sure Eira was studying instead of wandering around the house leaving dirty footprints, and be more present. It was easy.


    She took her mother''s hand and helped her up. "Come on, I''ll take you to bed." She had to support her so she wouldm''t fall. The woman''s bones pressed against her arm.


    Her mother let herself be pulled along, clinging to her neck. "How did it go at work? I heard there was some trouble."


    The news spread quickly. Light shook her head, forcing a smile that never reached her eyes. "It''s nothing that big. You know how news always gets bigger."


    The other sucked in her cheeks and watched her closely. No matter how hard Light tried to hide things from her, her mother always knew when something was wrong. Still, she respected her daughter''s wishes and let the subject drop most of the time. It used to be different, but the illness made her weaker and weaker. Maybe it also took away her will to deal with Light''s bullshit. "That''s too bad then," she just said and let the silence return. The sound of her heavy footsteps filled the corridor.


    Once in the bedroom, Light let her lie down on the bed. Lifting her weight off the floor, she gently lowered her onto the mattress. She pressed a button on the console. The bedclothes lifted off the floor and moulded to her mother''s delicate form.


    "Go to Eira," the woman whispered. She took Light''s hand and squeezed it between her own. There was no warmth in her; she was a thin, cold body. "She wanted to see you."


    Light huffed, a lock of hair lifting from before her eyes. "I doubt it."


    "You know she''s not really mad at you. She''s going through her rebellious phase, everyone goes through one sooner or later."


    Everyone except Light. At Eira''s age, she was already doing the housework because her mother was always dizzy. For some reason, she wondered if Ember had ever gone through a rebellious phase - she found it hard to imagine. Thinking back to the drawing, to the self that lived in Ember''s imagination, ready to fight a dragon without blinking an eye, she wondered what kind of past the girl had. If at least Ember could have been rebellious or not.


    "They''re all in their rebellious phase, then," Light huffed. She stroked her mother''s forehead and tucked her in. She heard her giggle, then cough, and her heart clenched in her chest as she left the room.


    Eira''s door was open. Light knocked and looked out. Her little sister was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her feet black and dirty, leafing through a book without even reading it. She had the same pout she always had as a child, when she could barely stand on two legs and watched her older sister climb trees while she was forced to stay on her butt on the grass. In those days, Eira looked at her sister with sparkling eyes, as if she were the most incredible creature in Valestria. That light had long since gone out.


    "What do you want?" Eira did not even look up from the book.


    Light ran a hand through her hair, desperation filling her chest and threatening to burst. "You should take a bath, you have more dirt under your feet than a sewer."


    "You should take a bath," she repeated in a petulant chant. "I will when I feel like it."


    "You mean next year?"


    Eira shrugged a lock of hair out of her eyes. It was growing back too much, too. "What do you care? It''s not like you''re ever here to smell my stink."


    Why did she always have to be such a hothead?


    Light leaned an arm against the door frame. "If you keep this up, you''ll turn into a troll in a few days."


    "So be it. You see? It''s fate."


    Her cadets might have thought her an incompetent Sergeant, but at least they feared her enough to follow her orders. Eira was a different matter: not only did she have no respect for her, she even took pleasure in disobeying her, just for the sake of annoyance. As if Light hadn''t enough problems already.


    "Irie, I''m serious. You can''t go around like this," she said more firmly.


    She only got a dismissive verse. "I can walk around as I like. There''s no law against dirty feet. In fact, look." Eira put the book down and stood up on the bed. She started to jump on the mattress. She left conspicuous footprints of dirt on the covers. Where had she walked, on the mud?


    "Okay, that''s enough."


    Light encircled her waist with her arms. Eira let out a squeal that was sharp enough to deafen her, but Light didn''t let up. She dragged her out of the room, kicking her in her arms like a spoilt little girl, and took her to the bathroom. She turned on the hot water in the shower and threw her under with all her clothes on. Dirty drops dripped down Eira''s arms, leaving brownish lines. "Where the hell did you get to be like this?"


    "None of your business!" The little sister threw herself at her. She bit her shoulder.


    Light tossed her roughly away. "Hey!"


    Eira landed on her backside on the shower floor. Her hair was stuck to her head, her clothes transparent under the spray. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes sparkled again, but there was no admiration in them. There was something else, something chaotic and angry.


    After an endless wait, Eira grabbed a bottle of soap and threw it at her. "Go away! I don''t need you!"


    Light shielded her face with her hand. The bottle fell to the floor. She closed the curtain, giving her little sister some privacy. She left the bathroom with a burning shoulder - the uniform had prevented teeth from hurting, but the feeling remained.


    Rebellious phase. Of course. Like all 12-year-old girls throwing themselves at their parents or siblings to bite them.


    She reached into the kitchen to remove her uniform jacket and check her shoulder. It was a little red, but not a drop of blood. She stayed there for a few minutes, leaning against the peninsula, eyes closed, listening to the sound of her own breathing. From the bathroom still came the roar of water: at least Eira was washing herself for real. A small victory, she thought. Even if it had left a bitter taste on her palate.


    When she opened her eyes again, her gaze fell back on the drawing. On that woman, ready to face any adversity head-on.


    A woman who existed only in Ember''s eyes.

 Chapter 10

    That afternoon, all the cadets of Section A were called to assemble in the Academy lab. Ember went there in her usual uniform, her hair more or less in order, and dark circles under her eyes that she didn''t know how to cover. The pain in her leg was getting easier to bear, so she no longer limped.


    Ember had never been to the lab before. When she heard its name, she always pictured a dreary room with steel walls and a stomach-churning smell of chemical solvents. So when she and her companions walked through the front door, she was stunned to discover how wrong she had been.


    Large windows acted as a perimeter, revealing a portion of the Academy''s internal gardens. Outside, the sun illuminated the petals of lilies rustling against the glass. The laboratory was divided into sections, each separated from the others by half a wall. Huge white tables displayed equipment and weapons of various kinds, and small blue screens flashed overhead with drawings and brief explanations of each item.


    The usual buzz of the Academy was lost in the noise of the machines. Technicians milled about, whispering new ideas or possible improvements to one another, their long white coats rustling as they passed.


    The cadets found Alpes and Oblam waiting for them in front of a large table full of equipment. They stood in a line, hands over their hearts in greeting. Ember only found a place at the far end, next to Ciel. As soon as the blue-haired girl noticed her, she nudged her elbow and winked at her. Ember blushed, not quite sure how to react.


    "Welcome," Alpes said, his arms outstretched as if to embrace them all. He wore a bright smile, his uniform neat and clean. A very different look from the one Ember had seen the night before. "Do you all know what day it is?"


    Ember blinked, waiting for one of her comrades to answer the question. She had no idea what the Lieutenant meant. Maybe it was one of the things she had missed during her short rest.


    But no one answered, and they all exchanged puzzled looks. Ciel dipped her head to whisper in Ember''s ear. "Sure ain''t the day the Colonel shaved off that ridiculous mustache."


    Ember clasped the fingers of her hands tightly behind her back. Had Ciel just been joking with her? Should she have replied? She focused her attention on Oblam for a moment, on the mustache that vibrated on his lips every time he curled them. It was the longest, silliest mustache she had ever seen, defying gravity. A smile came to her face. "In my opinion he can''t, he needs it for balance," she whispered in response.


    Ciel bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I hadn''t thought of that. It''s likely."


    Alpes clapped his hands to get everyone''s attention. "As you all know, each soldier has specialized equipment. We are not all the same, and each of us has a specific role according to our best abilities."


    There was a murmur among the cadets, but it quickly died down. Ember turned her attention to the equipment on the table, noticing a red half-cape that reminded her of the Sergeant''s. She had always thought it was just a decorative item, could it be something more?


    Oblam stepped forward and raised the officer''s hat to his head. "There is no such thing as a useless soldier in war. Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses, and the purpose of this equipment is to enhance your qualities. To enable you to find your role in battle and fight in sync with your comrades."


    "We have collected the necessary data over the course of your training," Alpes continued. "And after careful study of each of your abilities, we have selected appropriate equipment for each of you."


    If she looked closely, Ember could see a slight resemblance to Sergeant. The sharp features and red hair gave him the same mix of elegance and rebellion that characterized Ferun, though Alpes always seemed warmer. And more chaotic.


    Oblam took a sword with a squat, heavier blade than the ones they were used to. He weighed it in his hands before lifting his head to meet the cadets'' curious gazes. "We will call you one by one and give you the equipment we have chosen for you. Let''s start with Terris."


    Mark separated from his comrades with a buoyant stride. He greeted Oblam once with a respectful salute and accepted the sword with a dumbfounded expression on his lips. He reflected himself on the blade and rearranged his hair with a quick wave of his hand. Alpes then handed him a pair of gloves, heavy-looking boots, and an alternate version of the uniform he already wore: it had carbon-fiber reinforced shoulders and legs.


    It didn''t take a genius to figure out that the goal was to promote Mark''s strength and physical endurance.


    When Mark was sent to change, Jason Oers was named. They were choosing from the best to the least skilled.


    Prepare to go last.


    Only Ember and Viola were left when Oblam called out, "Leroy."


    Not last, but second to last. Not a big difference.


    With a sigh, Ember went to him in silence. The buzz of the other cadets had died down to nothing when almost everyone had gone to put on their new armor.


    You get the most useless gadgets. They can''t waste good equipment on someone like you.


    Her heart jumped in her throat when she saw Oblam holding the red half-cloak in his hands. The one that matched the Sergeant''s. He handed it to Ember with a comforting smile; the lines around his eyes made him look older than he actually was. She felt guilty about the joke she had made about him with Ciel seconds before. Then she remembered the strange files she had found in his desk and swallowed her guilt.


    She grabbed the cloak tentatively, as if afraid it would tear. She ran her thumbs over its surface. The texture was silky, soft.


    "It''s a camouflage cloak," Alpes whispered to her. He had approached from behind, his warm breath tickling her skin. Ember took a half-step to the side, backing away a little. "It can create a visual distortion field and make it harder to individualize you for a short time."


    "Oh." Ember admired what looked like an ordinary piece of cloth.


    Alpes then handed her a pair of dark boots with straps to fasten them. "Nimble boots, they provide grip while the soles improve traction and agility."


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    She was also given a new version of her uniform, made of composite fabrics that offered better protection without compromising movement; a belt with pockets and supports of various kinds, they didn''t explain what they were for; and red gloves with small plates on the fingertips they called ¡®manipulation gloves''. Ember took each of these items with a giant question mark in her head that grew larger and larger.


    "Get changed and go to the training grounds," Oblam told her.


    Ember asked no questions, just nodded and carried out the orders.


    ?????????


    She felt like a different person. The uniform was heavier, but it did not hinder her movements in any way. It was like wearing a second skin, harder and leathery, yet supple. The boots sat on the ground without making a sound, the soles clinging to the ground like silent suction cups. The half-cloak fell from her left shoulder and fluttered behind her, making her feel like an officer.


    A heroine.


    It''s just a cape, it doesn''t make you a real soldier.


    The belt and gloves remained a mystery.


    The training camp greeted her with a buzz of voices and a hum of electromagnetic technologies vibrating strongly.


    Ember went to the battle arena where the others were. She passed the magnetic barrier and walked down the steps. The sand mixed with the artificial turf. The other cadets'' attempts to use the new equipment kicked up dust.


    Ciel put down her bow and approached her. "Ember!" She patted her shoulder. "You look so cool. That cape really suits you."


    Ember brought a gloved hand to her hair, brushing a few strands out of her eyes. "Um, thanks," she mumbled. She wasn''t used to getting compliments. Should she give one to her? "You look like a pro with that bow," she finally said, her voice low and trembling.


    You cannot even give a compliment. Idiot.


    Ciel aimed her bow and nocked an arrow. Both vibrated in her hands as a red light ran through the weapon. "I admit, it''s not bad."


    As she lowered the bow, she opened her face in a new smile. She saw something behind Ember''s back. Before she could turn around, Ciel waved a hand in the air. "Hey, Vi, over here!"


    Viola quickened her pace until she reached them. She didn''t look much different, just a pair of new gloves that covered her entire forearm and a uniform that clung more to her skin. "Did I miss something?"


    The wound she had received on the mission receded bit by bit. A white gash remained across her cheek. The scar would fade one day, but it would never go away. That was what it meant to be a soldier, but Ember wondered if Viola struggled with the thought of being the only cadet whose face was already scarred.


    "No. Just Mark and Jason getting big with the new weapons." Ciel nodded at the two cadets.


    Mark and Jason faced each other under the interested eyes of their comrades. Mark lowered his sword hard, and every time it hit Jason''s, it sent out a small electromagnetic shockwave. Jason backed away, taking cover behind his shield.


    "Always fighting over who has the longer sword, huh?" Viola said.


    Ember couldn''t hold back a giggle. It was the first time she had ever heard Mark spoken ill of. Usually, the only one who showed any degree of annoyance with him was the Sergeant, who held the bridge of her nose between her fingers and sighed with the air of someone who had no idea how to get salt in an idiot''s head. It was a nice change.


    "Someday they''ll realize it''s not the length of the sword that makes the difference," Ciel said.


    Viola tapped her shoulder playfully. "Perv."


    "What? It''s true."


    Although Ember didn''t intrude, she felt a small warmth invade her. It had been part of a moment of camaraderie with two classmates. It had never happened since she entered the Academy.


    Camaraderie? They did everything, you didn''t even speak.


    The arrival of Alpes and Oblam interrupted the general commotion. At the Colonel''s command, the cadets formed an orderly line. Ember found herself between Ciel and Viola; they were both taller than she was, but she liked it, the sense of togetherness they radiated.


    Maybe she had misjudged them that day in the library.


    "Very well. Now we will properly explain to you how to use your new equipment." Alpes scratched his chin. "Although I saw that some of you were already having fun figuring it out for yourselves." It was not a rebuke; he seemed almost amused by the idea.


    The Colonel waved his hand in the air, pointing to the area used for ranged weapons, with dummies and targets already in place. "All those who fight at a distance will follow me."


    Ciel pulled back her blue hair and winked at Ember and Viola before leaving.


    "I''ll take care of the rest of you," Alpes said. He ordered the remaining cadets to spread out in random order; each had to find enough space to practice without fear of hurting the others.


    Ember stood still and waited until everyone had positioned themselves, finally taking the last decent spot she had left. Right behind Mark. Her usual luck.


    Alpes went around explaining to everyone. When it was Ember''s turn, he put a hand on her shoulder and she stiffened, closing her eyes for a moment. "Ember. I noticed you chatting with two companions earlier. I''m glad you were able to make real friends that day in the library."


    Ember bit her lip to hold back a wave of anger. He had just dumped her that day in the middle of a group of random girls, thinking he was doing who knows what great charitable deed. But she swallowed the nasty reply and nodded. "Um, Lieutenant, may I ask what these are for?" She raised her hands to show the gloves.


    He took a few steps away. Finally. "Oh, yes. They are manipulation gloves. Since your greatest qualities are agility and strategic skills, we thought they would suit you. They allow you to manipulate traps or drones."


    Ember nodded, her eyes fixed on the plates that covered her fingertips. "What about the belt?"


    "It''s a simple stand. You also have a small drone that you can control at will, the purpose should be to send it on recon or to distract enemies." Alpes tapped a piece of metal hanging from her belt. It was small and rectangular. It didn''t look like a drone. "Here it is. You could even give it a name, that would be nice."


    Give it a name. It was not a bad idea. Ember wondered what it looked like when activated.


    "As for the cloak, I can''t help you. I''ve never figured out how to make it work. I guess I''m not very good at going unnoticed."


    Ember didn''t answer him, except with a knowing smile. She should have asked the Sergeant for help. All the more reason to interact with her.


    Who knew why she had asked Ember to infiltrate the Colonel''s office if Ferun had such a cloak herself. Then Ember remembered the way the Sergeant had stamped her foot on the closed door and had to stifle a smile. Maybe all things considered, cloak or no cloak, it was good that Ferun had not gone alone.


    Alpes explained the general function of the various devices. When he stepped away, Ember first pulled the small drone from her belt and rolled it over her palm; the glove plates glowed red and the metal cube opened like the wings of a butterfly. It was the size of a dragonfly and flew with flapping electromagnetic wings.


    A name. She had to find a name for the little guy.


    "Lumen," she murmured to herself. Hoping it would mark the glow of a light at the end of the tunnel. The glow in the dark age when she was nothing more than a useless cadet and would soon become a real soldier.

 Chapter 11

    Lumen flew over the heads of the other cadets, the whirring wings making it look like a dragonfly, the iron color shimmering to give it an almost elegant appearance. Ember moved the fingers of her left hand to control its movements: a small gesture of her index and middle fingers was enough to change its direction. Depending on how much softness she put into the gesture, Lumen reacted better or worse. If the signals were too abrupt, it would lunge in the desired direction like a mad buffalo.


    Figuring out how to stop it had been more difficult.


    Alpes wandered among the cadets, offering advice, but every time he tried to approach Ember, someone would call his attention. So she had been left to fend for herself.


    She had tried to open her palm and do the typical stop sign. Lumen had spun around like crazy. With her heart in her throat and the conviction that she had just destroyed her drone friend, Ember had desperately tried to move her hand, looking for any gesture that would help her recover. Finally, in desperation, she had clenched her fist. And Lumen had been stuck in midair, its wings flapping, keeping it suspended where it was.


    After that incident, Ember had learned the basic commands.


    The glove''s back projected a thin hologram. As she consulted it, a blue glow reflected off Ember''s pale skin. It floated on her hand, showing some sort of simple map of the training ground. Some triangles were moving, others were still; one in particular was moving from one triangle to another. Ember recognised it as Alpes, while the rest represented the other cadets.


    The interface was static, and to change the view, Ember had to move Lumen.


    She liked that. The ability to send a forward drone gave her a semblance of control over the field. No surprises. She could have strategised before each action instead of jumping in blindly.


    A shower of pebbles crashed a few paces from her toes. Ember covered her eyes from the sand that flew at her. She coughed before glancing to her right.


    "Sorry!" Viola waved her arm above her head, an embarrassed smile softening her face. The glove she was wearing glowed, and a mass of rocks and dust rose from below, surrounding her like a shield. "Oh, fuck." Viola began to flail until the mass fell back down.


    Ember giggled. Not being the only klutz comforted her. "No problem."


    Viola resumed practicing. The operation of her gloves seemed not too dissimilar to Ember''s, but the effect was quite different. Instead of controlling a small drone, Viola could move objects at a distance. She mainly picked up pebbles and hurled them at different areas of the field with varying force.


    Electromagnetic manipulation. A fair compromise between strategy and destructive power.


    Much cooler than a stupid dragonfly-shaped drone.


    The smile died on her lips and her shoulders tightened. In silence, Ember went back to honing her control of Lumen. She hovered it over the cadets'' heads, watching the triangles that followed one another on the screen. Then she slowly moved two fingers down to bring it to eye level. Lumen then launched herself into the air between the cadets, awkwardly avoiding them as it flew back to its owner.


    It was only a few metres away. Ember raised her palm, ready to receive it.


    A low slash of the blade sent it crashing to the ground. Lumen''s wings stopped buzzing and the drone lay on the grass in perfect stillness.


    Ember started to reach for it, but barely had she taken a step when Mark appeared in front of her. She froze, her back muscles tense, her eyes still darting towards Lumen.


    "Leroy," he said, flashing his usual bitchy grin. He tapped his shoulder with the flat of his blade, in a pose more reminiscent of a thug than a soldier. "What the fuck are you up to? You''ve been waving your hand like a spastic for half an hour."


    "I''m training," she replied. There was no anger in her voice, it just sounded like a wretch trying to justify herself to an angry parent. Ember loathed herself. Anger coursed through her veins, the growl of an enraged wolf making every organ in her body vibrate. Yet she had no idea how to let it out.


    A caged wolf. Useless. All it could do was chase its tail and devour itself.


    "Doing what, a pantomime?"


    Jason approached him. He stomped on the grass a centimetre away from Lumen. He patted Mark on the shoulder and smiled at his joke.


    There wasn''t shit to smile about; Mark''s jokes sucked. Yet he generated agreement where Ember could only generate pity.


    Her arms clasped at her sides, she barely moved her fingers. Lumen showed no sign of life.


    Well done, cunt. You''ve already broken your drone.


    It was Mark who broke it, she repeated to herself. But her father disagreed.


    "Come on, Leroy." Mark put a hand on her shoulder. For a moment he almost seemed to want to calm her down. Only to push her hard forward the next second. "You look ridiculous with that damn dragonfly."


    Ember backed away, but despite the wolf''s howl reverberating through her aching leg, she did not fall.


    "What did you think, just because you got a cloak like that and a metal bug you were going to be a real soldier?"


    "Come on, leave her alone, Mark." Jason crossed his arms over his chest, his shoulder brushing against Mark''s. "She''s just playing to imitate her beloved Sergeant."


    Struck and sunk


    Ember lost all ability to think. Even the wolf stopped growling, whining as if wounded and hiding in the darkest parts of her subconscious. Defeated.


    Was she really so transparent? Even someone as stupid and obtuse as Jason could see what was going on in her head?


    "Exactly," Mark said, almost spitting out the word in disgust. "Well, congratulations, Leroy. You''re on the right track. I bet one day you''ll be just like that frigid good-for-nothing."


    He turned and returned to his turf to cross his sword with Jason''s in a brutal battle.


    Ember gritted her teeth. She wanted to go over there and kick that asshole in the balls. What did he know? He only allowed himself to judge her and the Sergeant because he benefited from Phoenix''s protection. Dickhead.


    Stop pretending to be tough, you idiot. You''re a rabbit. We all know you''ll never stand up to him.


    With a sigh, Ember raised her arm and wiggled her fingers. Lumen rose into the air with a buzz. It wasn''t broken. It should have made her feel better, relieved the tension that was crushing her, but instead she felt nothing but the urge to disappear.


    She noticed Viola''s gaze, watching her as if expecting a cry for help. Ember summoned Lumen back to her, and when it crashed into her palm, she ran her thumb over the hot surface of the drone.


    She deserved no comfort. She had not even had the courage to defend the Sergeant''s name.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Just as she had never had the courage to defend her mother.


    ?????????


    The night brought with it a sweet melancholy. The silence of the Academy, the lack of eyes or voices to focus on her, the prospect of hours that belonged to her and her alone.


    Ever since she was a child, Ember had loved the night. She often spent it in her own room, enjoying the silence as she looked out the window at the world. A world that in her imagination turned into another place, full of danger and monsters for all to see. And Ember was the heroine, the one who saved others. The child prodigy who could scare away evil creatures without fear. And everyone praised her, this sweet, brave child. Everyone recognised her strength and resilience.


    In this fantasy world, Ember deserved all that.


    It gave her comfort at the time, that small glimmer of acceptance, even though it was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. In time, even that small moment of false glory had faded. Ember still sought comfort in her mind, but when she looked out the window, all she saw were reflected shadows, shadows hurting each other, shadows full of flaws, shadows without courage, devious shadows. She took in all these images with tears in her eyes and a feeling of emptiness and fullness in her chest that tore her from the inside out.


    That night, Ember couldn''t bear to watch those shadows continue to betray each other without doing anything. So she took her uniform, half-cloak, gloves and belt and walked out into the darkness of the corridors, towards the outside. The training ground was closed at that time, so she was forced to go to the outer gardens. She had to make do.


    The wind carried the aromatic scent of lilies. Ember followed a section of the main path, lined with polished stone slabs. She stopped when she was sure she was far enough away that no one could hear her from the windows, the breeze fluttering her half-cloak behind her shoulders.


    The night would protect her from the eyes of others. From the judgement of people who, seeing her fail again and again, might simply shake their heads to remind her of her futility.


    She let Lumen fly through the foliage of the trees. When she was sure she had learned how to manoeuvre it halfway, she drew her sword.


    A drone isn''t enough to make a soldier.


    No, it wasn''t enough. She had to learn how to fight while gathering data, how to use Lumen as a tool to distract the enemy while she fought. They had to move in sync.


    From the beginning, she noticed a problem: to command Lumen, she had to move her left hand, to hold the sword, her right. Too bad Ember was left-handed. She tried a slash, and it was more awkward than it should have been. Lumen, meanwhile, barely moved at the slight nod of her fingers, a quick hum as it moved half a centimetre.


    Great. That was all she needed. Now she had to learn to fight with her non-dominant hand as well.


    You''d rather give up.


    Ember did not give up, but with each new attempt she lost the little bit of determination that had burned in her chest.


    A tall, slender figure appeared beneath one of the pavilions. It stood still, arms crossed. Ember realised that it must have been there for a while, watching her. Immediately, she felt the usual heat flare in her face and she stopped moving, her sword falling to her side. The still triangle flashed on the screen, a sign that Lumen had detected the presence, but Ember had been so busy coordinating her movements that she had not seen it.


    The figure came towards her. Ember felt her heart pound as she recognised Ferun''s reddish hair and blue eyes.


    "Sarge," she muttered, expecting a lecture. Training with new equipment, alone, in the middle of the night, was not the behaviour of a model cadet.


    The Sergeant looked tired, more so than usual. Something was missing from her eyes, an icy edge that usually made her look menacing. "You can change the glove assignment," she told her.


    Ember frowned. "Huh? What do you mean?"


    Ferun took her right hand without warning. Ember lowered her gaze, concentrating on the blades of grass bending beneath her shoes. The Sergeant touched something on her glove, in what felt like a precise combination. When she had finished, the screen disappeared and was projected onto her left hand.


    "Now you can control the drone''s movements with your right hand and the data with your left. It''s more convenient to manage everything while fighting."


    This did sound more feasible. Coordinating the right hand to command Lumen would have been easier than learning to fight with the non-dominant hand. And while she held the sword high in the guard position, she could look at the data received from the drone.


    "Thank you," she murmured.


    Ferun nodded briefly. "They are programmed for right-handers. They should have remembered to calibrate them for you, who are left-handed."


    They might have, yes. If it had been Mark, they would have done it immediately.


    Ember put her index and middle fingers together and motioned for Lumen to come back to her. It crashed into her palm and closed into a rectangle of hot metal.


    Ferun stepped back. "You shouldn''t walk alone at night."


    "I know. It''s just that..." she interjected, her fist closing on Lumen against her chest.


    It''s that you''re pathetic. Go on, tell her.


    But she didn''t say it. She didn''t have the courage. To admit that Mark''s words were eating away at her from within, day after day, would have been like admitting that she was weak. Too weak for a soldier.


    Ferun said nothing, a quiet presence lingering in the shadows. A chance for salvation. A light to follow. If only Ember could speak. After a few moments, the sergeant spoke again, the deep voice cutting through the silence. "Have they shown you how the cloak works?"


    At least that was easier to answer. "No. Alpes said he never got much use out of it."


    "Tch. Typical." Ferun moved her hand to her side. She tilted her head slightly to look at the other girl. "I was the one who recommended your equipment."


    This news unsettled her. Ember dared to take a small step forward as a strange warmth invaded her stomach. "Really?"


    "You have speed and strategy. If you learn to use your tools well, you can be a valuable help in the field."


    Guilt hit her chest like a fist. The Sergeant was always trying to remind her that she could be more, and she hadn''t even had the courage to defend her when Mark had called her good for nothing. It was true, Ember did not deserve anyone''s kindness.


    "I''ll do my best," she murmured in response.


    "Now go back to bed. You won''t get anything out of training if you don''t get proper rest." A hypocritical sentence from Ferun, considering she was the first to return to the Academy in the middle of the night instead of staying home. Ember turned in time to see the Sergeant''s back go.


    She wondered what kind of life she, Lightara Ferun, led when she was off duty. Who would be waiting for her when she returned home. Would someone greet her with a smile and a hug, or would it be only the icy cold of loneliness that welcomed her back?


    It was like a primal energy driving her forward. The wolf inside her, with its tail cut off and full of wounds, commanded her. The wolf that perhaps recognised a fellow wolf in the other woman''s tired, distant gaze.


    "Sarge!" Ember sent down a lump of saliva and held her breath in her lungs. If she had exhaled now, she would have collapsed, she could feel it.


    Ferun turned around in surprise.


    "Please, I need private training. I want to improve, but I can''t do it alone."


    Ember waited for her father''s or Mark''s voice to tease her. She waited for their comment about how pathetic and ridiculous she was. But it never came. And that left her in a limbo of uncertainty.


    Ferun''s boots were silent on the grass. She came closer. "I don''t have time for this, Ember. I know you''re determined, but I''m not the right person to help you."


    A spear through the heart. Ember thought about giving up. But neither her father nor Mark urged her to, and instead the wolf cajoled. "I''m sorry," she whispered. "It''s just that I keep falling behind the others. And I don''t..." She had to stop herself. She didn''t trust her own voice.


    Ferun listened without interrupting.


    Ember dared not look her in the face. "I''m afraid I won''t make it. I don''t want to be a burden, I just want to learn how to be a real soldier."


    The electromagnetic energy lights gave off soft beams that bathed the lilies behind the Sergeant''s back. The same glow reflected off her hair, creating a hypnotic play of colour.


    Ember counted every blink of the other woman''s eyes. Every breath. She still felt suspended in nothingness, staring into the void below, waiting to fall.


    Until Ferun parted her rosy lips. "I won''t go easy on you. If you want me to train you personally, you''ll have to be ready to give it your all."


    A chance. She was giving her a chance.


    Ember opened with a hopeful smile. "I''m ready for anything." In that moment, she believed it with every ounce of herself.


    "Be outside the Academy entrance tomorrow at five o''clock sharp. Wear comfortable clothes." Ferun added nothing more. But there was no need to.


    That was all Ember needed.


    "Yes, Sarge. Thank you."

 Chapter 12

    The sky was still dark. Ember appeared in front of the Academy wearing a simple, loose, dark t-shirt and a pair of comfortable pants. Ferun was waiting for her outside the entrance, her attention focused on the sky. If she had to describe her in one word, Ember would have called her scared. Behind her gaze, she recognised the same wounded wolf, licking its tail and cowering, hoping for another world. A world where that wolf was strong enough.


    Stop projecting your thoughts onto her. She is not like you. You are not like her.


    Ember walked down the steps, her head down. Whether her father was right or not, it was obvious that Ferun was not well. Perhaps because of Mark and all the other cadets who blamed her for the outcome of the mission. For the death of all those cadets.


    Perhaps even a woman as strong as Lightara suffered under the weight of others'' words.


    The Sergeant noticed her arrival and gave her a brief nod of greeting. "You''re early."


    Ember pulled her hair back with her hand, savouring the cool morning breeze. "Really?"


    "By three minutes."


    She wanted to laugh, but pressed her lips together to restrain herself. Ferun''s strange fixation with punctuality was almost comical. Just showing up a minute before the appointed time was enough to win her approval and a more positive overall mood. Sometimes Ember had dragged herself out of bed and kicked her butt just to get to training camp a little earlier than the other cadets. Anything to get a modicum of approval.


    You should be ashamed of yourself. You¡¯re an ass kisser.


    The Sergeant tightened the belt that held her shirt to her waist, hugging her body and preventing it from fluttering. She looked out over the fields of lilies to the clump of trees that foreshadowed the city. The ocean and beach were not visible from the Academy, but Ember imagined the waves crashing against the shore in their calm rhythm. "First, we run all the way to the city. Follow me."


    Ferun broke into a run without further warning. Ember stood dumbfounded for a few seconds, watching the Sergeant''s confident, plush pace as she left her behind.


    Stop drooling and run, you dork.


    Oh, yeah. Yeah, she needed to get a move on.


    Ignoring the blush on her face, Ember trotted to catch up with the other woman. She remained at her side, her gaze fixed on the ground. She had hoped for a training session on sword techniques or perhaps how to better control Lumen, certainly not a simple run. She could have done it alone, couldn''t she?


    But she didn''t voice her doubts aloud. She trusted Ferun, and if the best thing to do was to blow her away in a run, then she would do it. The road to Bethus wasn''t a short one, and certainly not a comfortable one. Only a small path snaked through the untouched vegetation, connecting the Academy with the city. It was usually a good idea not to walk alone, given the large number of wild animals that roamed the area in search of prey, especially in spring and summer.


    As they progressed, the trees grew taller and thicker. The foliage darkened the sky, plunging the world into a gloomy atmosphere. The humidity was high; Ember felt sweat dripping down her forehead and back. It was as if she was moving with sticky arms that clung to her and tried to push her down. She started panting almost immediately. Her legs struggled to get off the ground, anchored by an invisible weight.


    Ferun, on the other hand, ran gracefully, leaping over the huge roots that sprouted from the ground without ever losing momentum. Ember followed as best she could, heart pumping blood at breakneck speed. These few days without training had turned her into a wimp.


    "Keep up," Ferun told her. She turned her head to make sure Ember was there. She didn''t slow down or wait for her, but carried on as if nothing was wrong.


    It''s your problem if you can''t keep up with her.


    You can''t expect her to hold your hand.


    Ember quickened her pace to catch up. She concentrated on her breathing. Air came in through her nose. And out through her mouth. It went in through her nose. And out through her mouth.


    But she still felt like she wasn''t getting enough. She wasn''t used to running so fast.


    As if that were not enough, every sound, every little creature that stirred the leaves or bushes, made her jump. Ember couldn''t stop looking around, searching for lurking threats.


    "Velanthras only attack when they are hungry." Ferun''s voice broke the tension. Her calm and confidence were a balm to Ember''s growing fear.


    "But if they''re hungry, they won''t have as much trouble," she replied, panting.


    "True. But it''s almost summer. The woods are full of easier prey than us."


    It made sense. But the fear didn''t subside. "What if there''s one loser left who''s had its lunch stolen by others?"


    You really want to look like a pussy, don''t you?


    Ferun gave her an indecipherable look. After endless seconds of silence, she said, "That means it won''t be hard to take it down if it''s such a loser.


    This made her smile. Ember nodded, and although the anxiety still made her feel like she was being watched all the time, she managed to keep it at bay.


    The Sergeant led her along the beaten path. On the ground, perpendicular to the path, crawled a strange, raised patch of earth. The roots seemed to be avoiding it, spreading out as if it were an impassable wall. Staring at it, Ember felt an awl in her head.


    "Valestri Lines," Ferun said.


    "Are they still there? I thought they were all drained after the Great War with the Ysnians."


    "Most of them. But this wood was once sacred, stagnant with magic. Despite everything, some of that energy remained."


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    Ember imagined the kingdom of Valestria as it had once been, when magic still flowed freely. A world where people had to build according to the flow of the Valestri Lines, building their lives around those clods of earth, filled with energy like the roots of a tree. Nature had ruled, before the Ysnians had attacked. Valestria had to harness every bit of the earth''s energy to fight the invasion.


    They had succeeded, but the kingdom had lost its ancient magic.


    Despite her shortness of breath, talking helped to distract her from her fatigue, so Ember ventured another question. "Was this a sacred wood?"


    "It was one of the greatest concentrations of the Valestri Lines. It was home to many creatures once considered sacred. Like the Velanthras."


    Ember frowned. Velanthras were vicious, ugly beasts; she found it hard to understand how they could be considered sacred.


    Ferun must have understood her doubt, because she let out a half-snort that turned into a sneer. "When magic existed, they were different. They shone and had superior intelligence. It is said that some of them could understand and speak human language."


    "Is it normal that this makes them seem even more creepy?"


    The Sergeant snorted again. The sneer became a half smile. "Let''s just say I''m glad I''ll never have to meet one."


    The conversation ended there, but Ember followed in a better mood. Her lungs were screaming at her to take a break and she was breathing almost raggedly. But she wasn''t going to give up. She would not give up. With every tree she passed, she promised herself that she only had to hold on for a few more steps and she would stop. But then she wouldn''t, she wouldn''t stop. And she kept going until she could take no more.


    The woods remained dark. The humidity made her feel trapped in a heavy water bubble. The city remained far away, the path always the same, promising an eternity of endless running.


    She began to slow down. Until her legs gave out and she was forced to stop. She pressed her hands to her knees, panting obsessively. No matter how much air she took in, her lungs could never get enough.


    Pathetic. I told you you wouldn''t make it.


    Ferun stopped immediately and took a few steps back to face her. "Breathe. You must learn to control your breathing better."


    Ember didn''t dare look at her. She kept her eyes down, staring at the worms crawling on the ground. "I know. I''m sorry."


    The Sergeant said nothing, let her recover without talking. The blue eyes remained on her, though. Ember just wanted to disappear.


    You''re wasting her time.


    "I''m sorry," she murmured later, again.


    "I don''t need your apology, I need a soldier with more stamina."


    Ember nodded as a hand stirred her insides. She opened her mouth to apologise again, but closed it when she realised it would only make her look more ridiculous. She leaned against the bark of a tree beside her. Now that she had stopped, she realised that she could barely feel her legs. She''d run too hard for too long; it wasn''t her pace. She had not been able to keep it up.


    The Sergeant let out a big sigh and gave her back. With a hand on her hip, she lifted her head to look at the foliage. "I''ve noticed it since the first day you came to the Academy."


    Ember didn''t understand. She stood there like an idiot for a few seconds. "What?"


    "You have more determination than most. The problem is you''re not running towards a goal." She turned to look at her again. "It''s like you''re running away from something."


    It was strange. It wasn''t unusual for Ember to feel naked in front of someone, for others to see clearly what she had tried so hard to hide. She still remembered how she had felt when Jason had seen her.


    But this time it was different. Ferun didn''t attack her, didn''t use her weakness to attack or mock her.


    Ember wrapped her arms around her body. "It''s what I''ve always done," she admitted.


    Her life had been a constant flight from something. From her past. From her father. From herself.


    Ferun raised a palm. A dark-winged butterfly sat on her fingers. "You don''t have to do your best to prove something to others." The butterfly flew up again, disappeared behind the bushes and landed on a flower with reddish petals. "Is it because of Mark Terris?"


    She already knows you''re a loser. There''s no point in hiding it.


    Ember stroked the bark with the tip of her index finger. Rough, yet firm. She wished she was like that, just like the bark. "Mark doesn''t help," she admitted. "But it''s not that."


    She found her Sergeant a few steps away. Although Ferun appeared calm, she was dripping with sweat. Even she wasn''t immune to the strain. "Why did you decide to become a soldier?"


    A simple question. Ember had always given the answer her interlocutor wanted to hear. She had justified her choice in countless ways. All wrong. All nice words about home, about becoming an independent person: mirrors for the larks. Lies to avoid facing the truth.


    In the Sergeant''s eyes, however, she didn''t find the right answer. The one Ferun would have liked to hear.


    So Ember was left with only one option: to stare at her own reflection in the depths of that ocean.


    "I wanted to run away." The other woman didn''t interrupt her to ask for an explanation, didn''t wrinkle her nose in disgust. She remained a blank canvas. "I wanted to run away. But I also hoped that I could become someone who could ... protect".


    Like you never protected your mother, you mean?


    Ember grabbed the flame-shaped pendant that hung around her neck. She pressed it to her chest. Admitting the truth left her naked, trembling and unarmed.


    Dig a hole and wait to die. That''s all you deserve.


    What do you think she''s going to say to you now?


    You''re pathetic. You''ll never be able to protect anyone. You''re incapable of anything.


    She''ll tell you to quit.


    What soldier runs away like you do?


    Ferun''s hand rested on her shoulder. A sudden, gentle weight. It drove away all the voices. A gust of wind came up at the same moment, sending fallen flowers and tufts of grass flying. "We''re all running from something," Ferun told her.


    Ember gasped, her fingers loosening their grip on the pendant.


    Everyone runs from something.


    Even Lightara Ferun?


    "But that''s not all. You''re not just running, Ember. You''re fighting. Maybe in the wrong direction, but you fight every day."


    The words tasted of light. They went inside her, shining a ray of sun into the dark cave where her father and Mark''s minicopies were rented. Ember swallowed a lump in her throat. "Doens''t feel like it to me," she muttered, hating the petulant sound of her own voice.


    Ferun tilted her head sideways. She was close. The other cadets called her the Ice Queen, or any number of nicknames involving frost. But for the moment, all Ember felt from her was comfort. A soft warmth, the kind that did not burn and barely warmed, but never wavered. "You''re here, aren''t you?"


    The Sergeant let her hand fall from her shoulder. Ember missed the touch immediately. "Let''s go. You''ve had enough rest, we''re not done yet." She resumed running, though at a less brisk pace.


    Ember broke from the tree and followed her. A miniature version of Lightara Ferun watched her father and Mark from above, looking dismissive.


    Keep fighting, she kept repeating.

 Chapter 13

    Ember ran her pencil over the paper. She drew curves, lines, went over the sketch of the woods and the morning she had spent with the Sergeant. Her heart pounded with a sense of warmth every time she thought back to the feel of Ferun''s hand on her shoulder. So different from when it had been Alpes who had touched her. It did not take her back to the memories she was trying to escape.


    As she drew, Ember cut herself off from the rest of the world. She was lost in her own imagination, existing in another reality. A reality without chains, without fear.


    She did not register the sound of footsteps running towards her until two shadows appeared projected on the paper. Two heads, close together, one tube-shaped because of the long, straight hair, the other resembling a match head. Instinctively, Ember clutched the paper to her chest to hide it from their view.


    "Hey, Emmy!" Ciel sat down on the boulder next to her. A little too close. She gave her a friendly tap on the shoulder. "What are you up to? I didn''t know you were such a good artist."


    Viola stood and shook her head, as if judging her friend''s cheeky behaviour.


    Ember clutched the paper closer, the pencil still between her fingers. "It''s no big deal," she said, looking down. If she had turned around, she could have seen every pore of Ciel''s skin, because she was so close to her. It made her uncomfortable. Because it meant that Ciel could notice all those details about her, too.


    "It''s the sacred wood, right?" asked Viola.


    Had she recognised it? "Yes."


    "Cool. That place gives me the creeps." Ciel patted her knees, her clothes neatly pressed and spotless. "I went there by myself once, took two steps before I crapped my pants and ran."


    Viola traced the outline of the wound with her fingertip. "Why did you go into the woods alone? Are you crazy?"


    "A boy gave me a date there."


    "You''re reckless. You risk your life for a guy?"


    "Hey, he was hot."


    Ember controlled her breathing in order to relax. As the tension left her body, her muscles began to complain of fatigue. She found it hard to understand why these two had chosen to talk to her. Could it be that they wanted to befriend her?


    Alpes asked them. You wouldn''t think they were doing it of their own free will.


    Viola slapped Ciel''s wrist with a giggle. "You''re the usual perv."


    "Hey, look, we all are, underneath it all. But at least I admit it." Ciel wrapped her arm around Ember''s shoulders and pulled her close as if they had been friends forever. "Isn''t that right, Emmy?"


    Viola huffed. "Please don''t give her a hard time."


    Ember didn''t know how to act. People didn''t usually approach her like this - partly because she didn''t want them to. Ciel''s touch did not trigger flashes of the past, but it made it hard for her to concentrate. Not in the same way that Lightara''s proximity blocked her brain. It was not too much emotion, but the desire to slip out of her grasp and keep a safe distance. But she could not, for that would have meant offending Ciel.


    So she stayed where she was, jaw clenched and every fibre of her being squealing with the urge to wriggle free. "Did the boy fool you in the end, or did he really show up?" she asked, to at least avoid the problematic question.


    Ciel rested her head on Ember''s shoulder with a dreamy sigh. "Who knows? I didn''t last long enough to find out."


    "At least you''re only three-quarters crazy," Viola said. "But sorry, you didn''t talk to him again to find out?"


    "Who do you think I am? Of course I didn''t. I''ve been avoiding him ever since."


    Ember raised her eyebrows in confusion as Viola laughed. "You''ve been avoiding him?"


    Ciel pulled away from her just enough for Ember to breathe again. "Yeah. I mean, can you imagine how embarrassing it would be to talk to him again? No, no, thanks but no, thanks. He might be hot, but better not to score than to regret a shitty figure for the rest of your life."


    "You know you''re an idiot, right?" Viola sat down on the other side of the boulder. Ember found herself caught between the two girls she knew little or nothing about, and she couldn''t help but wonder how it had come to this.


    Until a few days ago, everyone had ignored her. Well, everyone except Mark and Jason, sadly.


    The daytime atmosphere of the gardens was very different from the night. The colours of the lilies conveyed serenity, as did the presence of the other cadets and officers. Most of them were walking around in small groups. Ember had chosen to sit on a boulder in the middle of the grass, hidden by the foliage of the bushes. But they had found her anyway.


    For the first time, Viola gave her her full attention. "How come you drew the woods? Please tell me you didn''t go there alone like that dumbass." She pointed at Ciel with a quick nod of her hand, and the other girl lifted her chin in response with a broad smile.


    "No, I wasn''t alone," Ember replied. The memory of the Sergeant''s gaze on her as she spoke words of encouragement, in that ever so slightly distant tone of hers, made her feel a warmth in her neck. She hoped the others would not notice.


    Ciel, however, quickly jumped up and elbowed her. "Oh, don''t say anything. You had a good time, didn''t you? Who is he, tell me."


    Ember shook her head quickly. Damn it, she had to keep her mouth shut. "No, no, it''s not what you think. I was with the Sergeant." She realised how ambiguous the sentence sounded and waved her hands. "I mean, I was, uh, she was training me."


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    They noticed. Now they will leave in disgust.


    Viola whistled. "Wow. What guts, letting the ice queen train you in private."


    "You have to admit it must be fascinating, going alone with the Sergeant to a mystical place like the sacred wood," Ciel said instead.


    "Is there anyone you don''t have a crush on?"


    "I don''t have a crush. But the Sergeant is a beautiful woman and you can''t say no. Right, Emmy?" Ciel winked at her. She understood. She understood, all right.


    But she did not judge her; if anything, she supported her. Ember couldn''t tell if she was just doing it out of kindness, to make her feel less strange, or if she was being sincere. Whatever the answer, a spiral of light and shadow twisted in her stomach.


    With her arms still holding the drawing to her chest, Ember lowered her head. Her hair fluttered from her forehead. "True," she murmured, but the burning she felt in her face said enough.


    Viola huffed and shook her head. Then she gave her a smile. "Well, that explains why you didn''t seem at all convinced by your answer the other day."


    Ember opened her eyes wide. "Huh?"


    "In the library. About the hottest officer. You answered Phoenix, but you didn''t seem convinced."


    Because she wasn''t. And once again the others had seen through her mask, despite all her efforts. Ember wondered if she was really wearing one or if it was just an illusion.


    "Actually, now that I think about it, Ferun does have her charm," Ciel said, resting her chin on her hand. "Although I still prefer Phoenix. I''m not a fan of people who are too unfriendly. But hey, you have a good eye, Emmy."


    Viola nodded. "Better than those who chose Alpes, for sure."


    Ember laughed. The others looked at her as if they had just seen a tame Velanthra purring.


    "Then you laugh sometimes." Ciel rubbed her back with a hand, as if petting a puppy.


    Was that how others saw her then? As a girl who never laughed?


    "We just had to find her weakness," Viola said.


    "But why a private practice?" Ciel asked.


    Ember lifted her shoulders. She felt squeezed between them, though in a way the feeling of being part of a small group was starting to go to her head. "I asked her. I was falling behind everyone and I was hoping she could help me catch up."


    Viola whistled again. Apparently it was her way of showing respect for a brave and foolish decision. "My compliments. I thought Ciel was the craziest one here. It looks like that title is now rightfully yours."


    Who knows why everyone always judged the Sergeant as the meanest of all officers. She was just doing her job.


    Ember hid a giggle behind her fist. "Come on, she''s not that bad."


    "If you say so."


    "By the way, how are you getting on with the new equipment?" Ciel leaned forward to meet Viola''s gaze.


    "Fine. It could be better. I keep picking up dust and pebbles instead of useful stuff."


    "It''s not the best for me either. My new bow should be easier to aim, but instead I almost killed the Colonel yesterday."


    Ember rested the drawing on her lap. The trees on the paper, with their mournful atmosphere, seemed to her little more than the fragmented memory of a dream. As if that moment in the morning had passed who knows how long ago.


    She had not considered that her companions might also be struggling with their new equipment. That she might not be alone. Living in the isolation of her own mind made her believe that she was the only one facing certain challenges. Even though it was not true.


    Who knows how many other false beliefs she had.


    Ciel and Viola stayed with her for an indefinite amount of time. In the end, Ember got so used to them that she was hurt when they left. But she kept the feeling to herself and greeted them with a barely there smile.


    She would have liked to be able to call them ''friends'' one day. Even if Ciel was too clingy and Viola pretended to judge everyone else''s actions, they were fun to have around.


    For all you know, they might be the traitors.


    It was impossible to ignore that voice inside her. Ember did not have the freedom to trust. Not that she ever had.


    She rose from the boulder to stretch her arms and legs. She picked up her drawing - this time she remembered, the question of what had happened to the one she had left on the bench days ago still haunted her sometimes - and made her way to the dormitory. The cadets mostly used this hour for recreation and distraction, while the more diligent ones went over the techniques in the boot camp. The dormitories were mostly empty.


    Ember entered the women''s dormitory. Her head was somewhere else, her fingers brushing the communication bracelet on her wrist. She had no idea when the Sergeant would call her to continue the investigation. Part of her hoped it would be soon, the other part dreaded the thought. They had almost been caught last time.


    As soon as she put her hand on the doorknob, she realised something was wrong. The door was ajar. From inside came noises of various kinds: cloths being thrown on the floor, drawers being opened. Ember froze, her heart rising in her throat.


    Could it be that the traitor was after her?


    What if they were waiting in there to kill her?


    Ember removed her hand and took a step back. She had to warn the Sergeant. Yes, it was the only sensible thing to do. She fumbled with the bracelet, her fingers desperately searching for the right place to touch it to activate it. She was shaking too much.


    Pathetic.


    The door opened. Ember squeezed her wrist between her fingers as if looking for an anchor. She had no idea who to expect. Who would come out of her own room, hands outstretched, ready to grab her throat? Oblam? Alpes? Ciel and Viola?


    Out stepped a tall, broad-shouldered figure with long, dark hair. Jason met her eyes, his features drawn into a grim expression. Ember held her breath, expecting Mark to leap from behind his friend''s shoulders and take the opportunity to smash her head against the wall. To die at Mark''s hands, how ironic.


    But Jason slammed the door behind him with such force that the walls shook.


    Pull yourself together, you idiot. Or are you just going to stand there like a desperate housewife?


    "What... What are you doing in my dorm?" Ember asked, her voice shaking.


    Jason approached her, each step a silent threat. He grabbed her shoulder, fingers squeezing until it hurt. He wanted to keep her still. He bent over her, his lips brushing her ear. "Stop playing hero."


    "What?"


    He added nothing more. He let her go and lifted his heels.


    Ember stood and stared at Jason''s back until he had disappeared around the corner. Jason, so different from the way he acted when Mark was there, too. More confident. Dark, like a creature of shadow, ready to strike. A much more dangerous person than just a bully.

 Chapter 14

    It had been years since Light had set foot in that school, or so she wished. In fact, she had never been able to forget those dull, gray, narrow corridors. As if whoever had built the place wanted to remind the children that the world was on their shoulders and there was no time to admire a glow of light.


    The opaque windows barely let in enough sunlight to see. Despite the fact that it was broad daylight, the environment stagnated in a grim and gloomy atmosphere.


    Eira did not help. Sitting in one of the chairs in front of the principal''s office, her elbows on her knees and a sullen expression on her face, she seemed to be haunted by a gray cloud. Her hair, a light brown, hid her eyes like closed curtains. She had not moved or spoken since Light''s arrival.


    Light still wore her uniform, the red half-cloak folded between her and the chair. She almost wished she had changed. She would have, if she had had the time. Flaunting her position as Sergeant when she could not even train her sister made her nervous.


    The floor tiles had lost their original color. Light remembered them brighter. The apathetic brown tint they now showed must have come from all the students'' shoes stepping on them every day.


    "Can I know what you''ve been up to, or do I have to find out from the principal?" she asked her little sister. Her tone was more venomous than she would have liked. She curled her tongue and cursed herself for her lack of tact.


    Eira gave her a wicked look. The blue of her eyes was icy. She made only a dismissive, half-hearted "tsk" and turned away.


    Light clenched her fists, barely resisting the urge to scold her. But what use would that be? Little sister wouldn''t listen to her anyway. She never did. She rested her head against the wall when she felt a slight vibration in her wrist. The bracelet gave off a brief glow, then Ember''s voice boomed in her head.


    "Sarge, I need to talk to you." She sounded shaken, as if trying to hide a tremor in her voice but failing.


    Light took a moment to breathe deeply. Another problem she did not know how to solve was about to land on her shoulders. "What happened?"


    "Well, I was on my way back to my dorm and I found Jason rummaging through my room."


    Jason. Jason Oers. A promising cadet, but one who often lacked initiative. He was glued to Mark''s ass the whole time, following him around like a faithful lapdog.


    "Was he alone?"


    "Yes. But that''s not the only problem. It''s that he said a strange phrase to me..." Ember hesitated. Light imagined her clutching the pendant between her fingers or biting her lip, tormented by who knew what thoughts.


    "Weird in what way?"


    "¡¯Stop playing hero.¡¯"


    Light sighed again. It could have meant anything. It could have been an attempt to dissuade her from seeking evidence against a possible traitor from the statement of a bully who just wanted to see Ember crumble under the weight of expectations. The combination of events, however, made her think. What if it had really been Jason in Oblam''s office that day?


    Either way, Ember was in potential danger.


    "Lock yourself in. I''ll be there as soon as I''m done here," Light said with a growing weight in her chest.


    Eira stared at her, her gaze a fierce judgement. Although she didn''t say anything, Light heard her question loud and clear: ''You can''t wait to drop me off at home and leave again.''


    Light gritted her teeth and averted her eyes. She was a bad sister.


    "Okay. Thanks, Sarge." Ember broke off the communication, leaving them alone again in the narrow, gray hallway.


    The door opened, and the principal stuck her head out. Her hair was short and neat, a pair of sparkling earrings dangling from her ears. "Lightara Ferun. Please take a seat."


    Light gathered what little energy she had left to maintain her facade of strength. Sometimes it took more effort than usual to maintain that wall. It was as if she had to use her whole body to keep it up, and eventually every part of her began to creak under the weight of every responsibility. But she could not afford to give in.


    For once, Eira followed her quietly. They entered the Director''s tidy study, where the austerity of the gray on the walls was accentuated by the lack of personal effects. Light sat in front of the desk, Eira beside her.


    The principal sat in front of them, her fingers crossed and her chin resting on them. "Ms. Ferun, this is not the first time I''ve been forced to call you during working hours." Her gaze stayed on the officer''s pin glinting on Light''s shoulder.


    "No," she admitted.


    The principal let out a long sigh. "You see, Eira thoughtfully snuck out of school today without permission. When the gardener caught her, she tried to bite him."


    The red mark on Light''s shoulder pulsed.


    "Now, I understand that your family situation is difficult, but you are her older sister. It is your job to remind her that she is a little girl and not an animal."


    Light clicked her tongue. "My sister is not an animal," she hissed.


    Eira turned in her direction, her mask of rebellious rage cracking, her lips parted in surprise.


    The principal ran her tongue between her lips. She held back her irritation. As if she had the right to be irritated. "That''s not what I meant, and you know it. Eira is a very intelligent little girl, but very troubled. If you don''t do something to teach her how to behave, we will have to take measures."


    Her blood froze. "Measures?"


    "I''ve already given her many chances. If her behavior has not improved within a month, I will have to expel her."


    Expel her.


    Light could not afford to pay for a private tutor; most of her funds were spent on her mother''s medicine. She would have to take care of Eira''s education personally, but how? She could not handle all her duties as it was. It would have been impossible.


    "You cannot expel her," she said in the icy tone she addressed to her cadets.


    But the principal was not her subordinate. She cared nothing for military hierarchy. Nor, in all likelihood, did she consider her a competent officer. She shook her head with a mock patience that hid a hint of disapproval. "She leaves me no choice. I hope I don''t have to go that far, but it''s up to you, Ferun."


    Light swallowed the next curt reply and just stood up. "Thanks for the warning," she hissed. With a nod, she motioned for Eira to follow her outside.


    They walked side by side towards home. But Eira had never seemed so far away.


    The smell of the beach wafted along the road, along with the stench of freshly caught fish. The town was buzzing with life, with fishermen slapping each other on the back to celebrate their new catch, and people milling about. The breeze made Light''s cloak flutter. Her shadow on the stone path was tall and proud, a heroine ready to take on the enemy.


    Ember''s drawing came back to her. If only she could have been that person. The person everyone needed.


    Eira walked with her hands in her pockets, her backpack bouncing on her back with every step. From time to time she absentmindedly kicked a pebble. The gray cloud surrounded her like a shield. Light could not find the right words to scratch it, to break through it.


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    Light sighed. Weariness began to sap her strength. She wished she could lie down and sleep for three days. But she couldn''t. Eira needed her, and Ember was waiting for her, locked in her own room. She reached for her sister''s backpack to take the weight off her shoulders.


    Eira wriggled out of the way and took a few steps away. "I don''t need it. I can manage."


    Light did not dare to try again. She recognized her sister''s stubbornness; it was something they shared. "Don''t you think you''ve gone too far?" she finally asked her.


    Eira lifted her eyes for a moment and frowned. "What do you care?"


    Why did it have to be so hard?


    "If you won''t do it for me, can you at least behave better for mom?"


    "Don''t try." Eira kicked harder at a pebble, sending it crashing into the wall of a house. "You''re not going to make me feel guilty for Mother."


    "I''m not trying to make you feel guilty."


    "You are. But I''m the only one who really cares about Mom."


    Light came to a sudden halt. Her sister''s words twisted in her chest until they formed a spiraling blade that sank straight into her heart. She wanted to scream at her that it was not true, that she was trying her best to take care of everyone. If she had really believed that, maybe she would have.


    Eira continued on, and Light followed in silence. The weight of the charges crushed her back. How much longer could she hold up the wall that protected her?


    As soon as they entered the house, Eira locked herself in her room and slammed the door. Light sighed and went to check on her mother; she found her asleep. She tucked her in before going out again.


    Maybe she should have stayed, but there was another person who needed her.


    She reached Ember''s dormitory with a head full of questions. The Academy seemed as usual, alive and full of activity, but the dorms were silent at this hour. Light knocked on the door, trying to concentrate on the present, the traitor problem, the war with the Ysnians. All issues that had suddenly lost importance in her eyes.


    Ember barely opened the door. As soon as she recognized Light, however, she beamed with relief and motioned for her to enter. Ember, the only person who smiled at seeing her now. She closed the door and turned towards her, palms rubbing against her pants. "Sorry to bother you, I know you have a lot to take care of."


    Light watched her for a long time. No matter how hard she tried to hide her emotions, Ember could not stop trembling. She seemed small and fragile at that moment. A little girl who needed reassurance more than a soldier. A little girl trying to carry the weight of all her problems alone and in danger of giving up day after day.


    Light wondered... Would the other girl stop shaking if she held her in her arms? The thought was fleeting and she dismissed it immediately. Where did it come from?


    She grabbed her shoulders; Ember lifted her eyes and met her gaze. "Are you okay?"


    Ember blinked, confused by the question. "Um, yeah. Yeah, I''m fine."


    Light let her hands slide down Ember''s arms until they fell back at her sides. She took a quick look around the room: one side was tidy, but the closet was still open, clothes strewn haphazardly across the bed and floor; a myriad of papers inked with suggestive designs had been tucked away on the desk, but the drawers remained wide open, their contents exposed to the world.


    It seemed to her more like the actions of a person trying to frighten her than someone looking for something.


    "Do you think there''s a connection to the traitor?" Light asked. Maybe Jason had only acted on Mark''s orders to annoy Ember. She would not have been surprised.


    Ember shrugged and ran her hand down the back of her arm. "I don''t know. Jason, though... he had seemed strange to me. Different."


    "Different?"


    "Like he was a different person. He was... more confident. Like..." Ember grabbed her own arm. "Like he wasn''t Mark''s puppet."


    That Jason had acted of his own free will? But why, what purpose had he served in creating all that chaos in Ember''s room?


    Maybe he knew about Ember''s attempt to investigate the traitor and wanted to convince her to step aside. It was a possibility, but it seemed far-fetched.


    "Whatever the reason, breaking into someone else''s dormitory is an action that violates Academy rules," Light said. "I will personally see to it that Oers is punished."


    Ember lowered her head. "Thank you," she murmured.


    Light reached for the hilt of a knife that hung from her belt. She pulled it out. It was a modestly sized switchblade. She handed it to the girl. "Just in case, never walk around unarmed."


    The other took the knife. Their fingers brushed together for a moment. Ember''s skin was soft, her hand delicate. It sent a strange electric shock down her back. Light found herself staring at her own hand as if it belonged to someone else, amazed at the power of that little flash.


    "You should be careful too," Ember said, clutching the knife in both hands as if it were a sacred heirloom. "If he really were the traitor, and he knew I was helping you," she bit her lip, one hand caught in the hair at the back of her neck, "he''d know you were on to him, too. And, I mean..."


    "I''ll be fine," Light cut her off. She felt the corners of her lips curl slightly. She was not used to people worrying about her, but for some reason she found this attention from Ember endearing.


    Seeing her blush, Light noticed every tiny detail of her face. Her eyelashes, long and thin, fluttered with each blink. Pupils moved slowly, tracing every line of Light''s face as if trying to memorize every curve, only to drop in embarrassment. The way Ember could barely breathe. The sweet scent of her, of flowers with caramelized edges.


    They were too close. Light took a step back to create space between them. In her chest, instead of her heart, she felt like a fluttering butterfly, flapping its wings in search of freedom.


    She must be too tired, she thought. Her body began to react strangely.


    She wanted to leave, but she did not move. She felt lighter in the room. She did not understand why. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe Ember''s concern had caused another crack in the wall, and now she could no longer hold it up as she would have liked.


    "Ember?"


    Strands of golden hair fell disheveled on Ember''s forehead. "Yes, Sarge?"


    She couldn''t ask her for help. It was stupid. She was the Sergeant, she was the one who had to show strength for her cadets, it was certainly not Ember''s place to comfort her. Still, the girl''s gentle gaze eased her guilt. "How do you communicate with someone who won''t listen to you?"


    Why did she ask her that? Light had no idea what had gotten into her.


    Ember brought her index finger to her lips, nagging at it as she thought. "It depends. It''s not easy. Most of the time, if the other person won''t listen, there''s little you can do." Silence engulfed them both for a few seconds. "Are you talking about Mark and Jason? Because in their case, I think a slap or two might help." A slight, hesitant smile appeared on Ember''s face.


    Light greeted it with an amused half-snort. "Two slaps? Mark would need an instruction manual to understand why I slapped him in the first place," she said, and the other chuckled. It was a graceful, lighthearted sound, so out of place under the circumstances. "But no, I wasn''t talking about them."


    Ember rubbed her palms against her pants again. "It depends on why this person won''t listen to you."


    Telling her the truth was out of the question. Light had to maintain a professional relationship. Ember was her cadet, not a friend, damn it. So she opted for a middle ground, a half-truth without context. "She''s mad because I can''t do enough."


    Ember sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress giving way under her weight. "Are you sure it''s not the other way around?"


    "Huh?"


    "Maybe she''s mad because you never take a break."


    It was ridiculous. So she thought at first, but then the possibility made sense. Eira was furious because Light had no time to be with them, no freedom to dedicate herself to her family.


    "I can''t do anything about it. There''s too much going on."


    Ember leaned her hands against the mattress for support. She dared not hold the other''s gaze. "We''ll find the traitor. Then maybe you can at least get some rest."


    Light softened her expression. She should not have leaned on Ember so much; she was only a cadet, she had enough problems of her own. The butterfly stirred again, giving off a warmth that expanded in her chest. She tilted her head, a barely perceptible smile on her lips. "Rest? I don''t even know what that means anymore."


    "Oh, right." Ember laughed softly, shyly. "I forgot that part of being an officer is learning to live without sleep."


    Light put her hand on her hip. "Did you just realize that? What did you think training was for?"


    Ember shrugged. "Um, to teach us how to fight?"


    "Tsk. Your first enemy to fight will be lack of sleep."


    Ember twisted the knife before her eyes. The fear that had gripped her just a few minutes before seemed to have vanished. "And the first step in training is learning to sleep with a knife under your pillow?"


    Light stared at her and for a moment she felt a sense of ease. "Now you begin to understand." Then she lowered her voice, her tone serious again. "But really, Ember, try to be careful."


    "Don''t worry." Ember lifted the knife like a trophy to show her. "My friend Knifey and I will be fine."


    Light arched an eyebrow. "Knifey?"


    A new splash of red impregnated Ember''s cheeks. "I was thinking Assassin too, but Knifey''s cuter."


    "You know what? I''d better go before I lose the last brain cell I have left." And so Light indulged, accompanied by the crystal clear sound of Ember''s giggles and the beating of the butterfly''s wings that continued to flutter in her chest.

 Chapter 15

    Oblam''s office made a completely different impression during the day when it was crowded with other people. Ember followed General Phoenix inside and sat down in the empty chair in front of the desk. No one seemed to notice her arrival except Ferun; she gave Ember a brief nod, as if to greet her, or perhaps to reassure her. Oblam, on the other hand, was sitting in his chair, facing the canary cage - thankfully asleep. The base of his whiskers was damp. In his hands he held a cup of a greenish liquid that emitted spirals of smoke.


    Beside him, Alpes whistled cheerfully as he rolled up the sleeves of his uniform. He raised his eyes to meet Ember''s, a sign that he was aware of her presence, but quickly averted them. As if he wanted to pretend there was no problem and escape for as long as possible.


    ''He hates conflict with all of himself,'' the Sargeant had said. And perhaps Ember was beginning to see what she meant.


    Or maybe it''s just that you get on everyone''s nerves about crap. Nobody wants to pay attention to your bullshit.


    Ember adjusted her cloak better under her legs. It had not been she who had insisted on being heard. It had been the Sergeant.


    She reached into her pocket. Ever since she had received it, Ember had carried Knifey with her wherever she went. The cold weight always pressed against her thigh reminded her she was not alone, that no matter how much the world might resent her, there was someone who cared about her.


    Phoenix took a seat on the edge of the desk, one leg dangling at his side. He gave her a warm smile.


    In that moment, Ember understood why Ciel and Viola found him so charming. Although she did not share their attraction to men, there was something magnetic about Phoenix.


    Ferun cleared her throat. She stood a few steps away from Ember''s chair, wearing her uniform and half-cloak with her usual pride. "Colonel, she''s here," she said. She had the same piqued tone as when she scolded her cadets.


    Oblam almost jumped, a few drops spilling out of his glass. "Oh. Oh, yes, of course, I apologize. I was distracted."


    Biting her lip, Ember made herself smaller in her chair. It was off to a good start.


    "So, Cadet Leroy." The Colonel put the glass back on the desk, next to a file of papers left there haphazardly. He kept his head down, as if he preferred to focus on the objects on his desk rather than on her. "We heard from Sergeant Ferun that you had an unpleasant encounter with Jason Oers."


    Unpleasant encounter. Pretty polite way to describe an infraction.


    Ember tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Um, yes, that''s right, sir."


    "I see." Oblam took something out of a drawer and put it in his mouth. A candy. The sound of his sucking made her shiver. He took more candy, wrapped in colorful paper, and offered it to Alpes and Phoenix. They accepted.


    When he tried to give one to Ferun as well, she almost smoked out of her ears. "With all due respect, Colonel, I''d rather focus on the Oers issue right now."


    It was strange to see the Sergeant trying so hard to keep her composure. She stood with her back straight and her usual serious expression, but she seemed rigid. Like a plank of wood that would break if she tried to bend.


    The Colonel put the candy back in its place and shooed away her words with one hand. "Come on, Sergeant, it''s not like I said I wouldn''t take care of it."


    Ember crossed her legs under her chair, confused. Her superiors exuded an aura of tension she had not expected, especially the Colonel and the Sergeant. Was there perhaps a quarrel between them?


    She wondered if Oblam was the person who did not want to listen, the one Ferun had told her about, but she thought it unlikely. After all, Ferun had explicitly said it was a ''she''. Ember had spent hours trying to figure out who the Sergeant was referring to that day. She had come to the conclusion that it was someone from her personal life, and it had been difficult to ignore the slight feeling of jealousy she had felt.


    Jealous of what? What did you have in mind, that you were important to her? Don''t make me laugh.


    Alpes intervened at that moment, chasing away both Ember''s crazy thoughts and the growing tension. "Ember, why don''t you tell us exactly what happened? Lightara only gave us the basics."


    "Um, yeah." How much could she say without exposing herself and the Sergeant too much? "I was on my way back to my dorm..."


    "Who were you with earlier?" interrupted Phoenix. He kept his hands folded in his lap and watched her with an interested expression.


    Ember scratched her temple, confused. She wasn''t sure if the information served any purpose or if it was just an excuse to judge her. "With Ciel and Viola," she replied, a spark of pride igniting in her chest as she noticed Alpes nod in agreement. "We were in the gardens, chatting about this and that."


    "Were they with you when you returned to the dormitory?"


    "N-no." Ember rubbed her wrist, under the communication bracelet. "I was alone."


    Phoenix glanced at Oblam and Alpes. If the latter seemed interested in the story, the former kept his head bent over the file, sipping every now and then. "Go on," the General said.


    "I noticed that the door was open and there were some noises coming from inside."


    "What kind of noises?"


    "Like someone was ... rummaging around."


    "I see. Go ahead, please."


    Ember squeezed Knifey between her fingers in the hidden warmth of her pocket. "I was taking a few steps back, thinking about calling a supervisor, when Jason-" She froze, running a hand through her hair. "Jason came out of the room."


    Only then did Oblam raise his head. His moustache danced on his lips, and he looked like a mouse about to gnaw on a piece of cheese. "Is that all?"


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    I told you, you''re making a fuss over nothing.


    Ember focused her attention on the floor joints, following the pattern with her eyes. "No," she murmured without conviction.


    Ferun huffed beside her. She clenched her fists at her sides. Ember concentrated on this small detail. The Sergeant embodied the wolf in her at that moment: snarling, itching to show its fangs. But she held back, circumstances preventing her from letting it out.


    A tingling sensation stirred Ember''s fingers. It demanded that she touch the Sergeant''s hand, brush against it, if only for a moment. She wanted to find out if this gesture could transfer some of Ferun''s pride to her. But the mere thought was enough to send a warmth from her chest to her face.


    She swallowed her embarrassment - to no avail - before continuing. "He walked up to me and, well, he..." Instinctively, Ember brought her hand to her shoulder. The same one where her scar throbbed. "He grabbed me hard. And he told me to stop playing hero, and then he left."


    Is that all?


    The miniature version of her father echoed Oblam''s question.


    But the Colonel said nothing, not at first. Everyone waited for his answer, lips sealed. Ember gripped her shoulder even tighter.


    Until Oblam let himself fall back against the backrest, his hands open against the desk. "Listen to me, Ember. I understand that you were frightened, but what you''ve told me is mostly boyish shenanigans. Oers is a fine young man, he''s probably just frustrated because he doesn''t know how to deal with mission guilt. He has lost comrades, just like you. We can''t punish someone just because they left a little mess."


    The scar on her shoulder was burning now. A reminder of a past that seemed increasingly impossible to escape.


    You aren''t just running. You''re fighting. Don''t forget that.


    Ferun took a step forward, boots stomping hard on the ground as if she wanted to crush Oblam under her heel. "With all due respect, sir, this is not just a stunt. His actions constitute harassment and intimidation, as well as a clear example of unprofessional conduct within the Academy."


    "Indeed, the boy may have gone too far," Alpes agreed.


    Or perhaps it is you who are overreacting.


    Ember closed her eyes, trying to get her father''s voice out of her head. She concentrated on Ferun''s fire, which was warming her side.


    "All right, he went too far," Oblam said. "I''m not saying Oers wasn''t wrong. But we also have to consider the situation. We''re in the middle of a war, we''re all a little tense, and they''re just kids. Nobody got hurt, I don''t think we really need to raise a fuss."


    "And when do we raise the fuss, when someone has already been hurt? When do we stop ignoring the signs? We cannot allow the situation to escalate to the point where it becomes unmanageable."


    "Sergeant, calm down." Oblam stood up. He was not tall, and Ferun could tower over him. Only the desk separated them, a wall that reminded them of their difference in hierarchy.


    She''s going to get in trouble because of you, you little moron. You should have minded your own business.


    You need to learn to take care of your own problems instead of always looking for Mommy.


    Ember gritted her teeth, barely holding back a ''fuck you'' to her father''s phantom presence. But she had a hook in her gut, and it kept pulling and pulling, as if trying to force it out of her.


    Ferun stood with clenched fists, but did not retort. She kept her distance again. However, she still radiated a fiery aura.


    Oblam adjusted a button on his uniform. "I know you are young and that you care about the rules. That''s admirable, really. But you must also consider the situation. We''re in the middle of a war; we don''t have time to worry about all the squabbles between the kids."


    "Maybe we can at least give Oers a reprimand, Colonel," Alpes interjected. "Just to make sure he knows he was wrong."


    Phoenix raised his hand and spoke calmly. "I''m sure we can do something for Ember, Colonel. Also to help her feel less in danger so she can concentrate on her training."


    Oblam sighed. "Sure. If you see fit, you can reprimand the boy, I have no objection to that."


    Ember was almost tempted to beg them not to. If there was one thing she had learned in her eighteen years of life, it was that a reprimand from a superior figure only served to make people more angry. She could already see him, Jason, waiting for her with his sword drawn the next time she returned to her room.


    What if he was the traitor?


    He could have taken the warning to the officers as a sign that Ember was ready to denounce his alliance with the Ysnians.


    As much as she clutched Knifey between her fingers, it was not enough. She felt as if her chair had fallen out from under her, as if she was floating in a world of blackness.


    She heard them talking again, Oblam, Alpes and Phoenix. She could not understand a single word; they were lost in the meanders of nothingness that surrounded them. Finally, they had to call her several times to get her attention, and then they dismissed her.


    Ember left the office accompanied by the Sergeant. They walked close together and for a moment their shoulders brushed. Ember bit her lip, hoping her face would not explode. The feeling of warmth the Sergeant gave off almost made her shiver.


    In the hallway, the air was more breathable, smelling fresh and salty. Somehow, the breeze from the open windows calmed her a bit.


    Ferun let out a huge sigh and her muscles relaxed. She no longer looked like a plank of wood about to break, but like a used and tired mattress that had carried the weight of people who had no problem jumping on it for too long.


    You are one of those people.


    "I''m sorry," Ember muttered, her hands trembling in her pockets.


    The Sergeant shook her head, fingers gripping the root of her nose. "Don''t apologize. You''re not the one who doesn''t give a damn about the rules."


    "But maybe they''re right, Sarge. Maybe I have..."


    Ferun''s eyes were icy. For a moment, Ember thought the other one was going to annihilate her. But then the tension eased and the Sergeant softened her expression. "They''re not right. And you know it."


    Did she know?


    Ember put her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating with disturbing force, but she only realized it then. She noticed how much blood was pumping through her veins, like boiling lava bubbling beneath her skin. "They''re not going to do anything, are they?"


    "Oblam certainly won''t. And Alpes is only good with words. Maybe Phoenix will try to talk to Oers, I don''t know."


    It wasn''t enough. It was always like that. No matter how hard she tried. Nothing ever changed.


    Ember clutched the fabric of the uniform between her fingers. They were trembling, as if the lava inside her was desperately trying to find a way out. "If only I were not so weak, I could defend myself," she whispered.


    "You still can, Ember." Ferun took a step closer. She took the other girl''s hand and loosened her fingers around the cloth. Ember''s knuckles had turned white, while her palm was reddened. "You''re right, they won''t do anything, and as much as I''d like to change things, I can''t. You''re on your own."


    Ember watched as the Sergeant''s fingers gripped hers. Her heart began to pump blood faster. It did not seem to slow even when their hands parted, the ghost of that touch still warm on her skin.


    It''s not true. You''re not really alone.


    She nodded with renewed resolve. "See you tomorrow morning for training, Sarge."


    Getting stronger remained her only weapon. And she would try hard. To help Ferun. To defend herself against Jason.


    To show the world that she had a place, too.

 Chapter 16

    Over the weeks, Ember had grown accustomed to the intimidating atmosphere of the woods. The faint sounds of small animals scurrying through the foliage were no longer enough to upset her. The fear of encountering Velanthras, ready to devour her, had gradually faded, so much so that she was able to enjoy her morning runs and exercises with the Sargeant.


    Lumen was a constant presence. Ember guided it with the slightest movement of her fingers, trying not to trip over roots sticking out of the ground. The drone was becoming more responsive, sending positional data to the holographic screen.


    Even her stamina had improved. Enough, at least, not to die breathless at Lightara''s pace.


    Lightara. The more time she spent with the Sergeant, the harder it was for Ember to think of her only as Ferun. For some reason, it seemed as if every single pore of the woman screamed ''I am Lightara''.


    In the middle of the woods, an intermittent beeping sounded. Ember frowned in confusion before realizing the noise was coming from her glove. A small red triangle flashed on the screen, larger than the ones she was used to.


    "Um, Sarge." She slowed to a stop. Standing among the trees, Ember watched the new threat move across the screen.


    Lightara walked over to her and looked over her shoulder. Her breathing was a little heavy, and it tickled Ember''s neck; she tried not to focus on the goosebumps it gave her. "It must be a Velanthra."


    How nice. Just what Ember had hoped for, to meet a big, pissed-off cat early in the morning.


    "What do we do? It seems to be heading for the heart of the woods, so if we go this way we shouldn''t run into it." She pointed to a side road that climbed in the opposite direction.


    After a moment, Lightara shook her head. "No. I have a better idea."


    Ember gave her a puzzled look. Reflexively, she searched her pocket for Knifey. She wore the belt, gloves, and cloak, but she didn''t carry a sword this morning. It was a specific order from the Sergeant: every day she gave her instructions on how to prepare for the next training. "Please tell me the best idea''s not to wait with open arms for us to get ripped to shreds."


    Lightara''s lips curled into a half-smile. "Maybe if you stopped making those lost puppy eyes, it wouldn''t see you as a tasty snack."


    As if someone had just flipped a switch, poof, Ember''s cheeks glowed cherry red. She lowered her head, letting her hair fall over her face to hide it. She doubted she had been very successful. "I don''t have the eyes of a lost puppy," she murmured with a hint of edge in her voice.


    "I''ll have to teach you to look tough, too, huh?"


    Ember hid her hands behind her back. She could feel them shaking under her gloves. "I''m not a puppy!" she said again, this time with more conviction. She suspected that the red spots on her cheeks weren''t helping.


    Lightara raised an eyebrow skeptically, but thankfully dropped the subject. "The plan is to teach you how to use the cloak."


    "Oh." Ember grabbed the fabric of the half-cloak that fluttered from her shoulder. She lifted it to study it. No one had ever explained to her how to use it, and she had forgotten it was more than just a decoration. "You want me to make it harder to individualize so the Velanthra won''t see me."


    "And we don''t have to change our way. Two birds with one stone." Lightara folded her arms across her chest. Her reddish hair fell in soft waves over her shoulder. How she managed to keep it neat and tidy while running was something Ember had never understood.


    Sergeant''s secrets, she told herself.


    "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."


    "Why the surprised tone?"


    Ember couldn''t hold back a chuckle. She curled her lower lip between her incisors and glanced up at the foliage. An owl perched on a branch, its eyes huge and lanky, its head tilted in an unlikely pose. "Because usually your plan is always ''let''s kick it.''"


    The other woman flicked her tongue. "Which is usually an effective plan."


    If there was one thing Ember had learned about the Sergeant during their mornings together, it was that there was a playful spirit beneath the woman''s aloof demeanor. You only had to welcome her sarcasm to see it.


    "No offense, but I like this plan better." Ember patted her own cloak.


    A mosquito buzzing too close unnerved her. She tried to shoo it away by waving her hand next to her ear. It was useless; the mosquito didn''t give a damn. Perhaps it was having a good laugh at her expense.


    "For it to work, you have to activate it first." Lightara brought her index finger to the tip of the buckle that held the cloak to her shoulder. It emitted a whistle, like a Ysnian machine ready to puff smoke. Then nothing. No effect. The Sergeant was still a tall bogeyman, towering in the middle of the woods.


    "Um," Ember scratched the back of her head. "Either it''s broken or I didn''t understand what it was supposed to do."


    She got a sigh in response. "I just activated it. That''s the easy part."


    Confused but determined to learn, Ember imitated her and pressed the clasp button. There was a new snort. The cloak vibrated, animated with a life of its own; it made her entire shoulder tremble. The effect was not unpleasant. "Are you sure this isn''t a massage cloak?"


    Lightara didn''t answer this time; she just looked at her with lowered eyebrows.


    You said too much crap.


    "The cloak doesn''t make you invisible," the Sergeant explained. Ember cleared her throat and gathered herself to listen. "It has fibers that adapt to the environment. Simply put, it reflects light to create a visual distortion effect."


    She closed her eyes and sucked air from her rosy lips. Then her contours blurred. Lightara was there, yet she was not. The sunlight beat down on her, seeming to reflect the colors of the woods. It wasn''t impossible to see her if you knew where to look, but Ember felt tears well up in her eyes as she tried to focus on her.


    Ember wiped her eyes. "Ouch. You could have at least warned me about the headache."


    Lightara reappeared, defined and solid. "To use it, you must concentrate. It synchronizes with your breath, so you have to learn to control it."


    Great. Breathing was one of her greatest weaknesses. Especially in times of tension, anxiety didn''t help her keep her mind focused and her breathing deep.


    You can do it.


    No, you can''t. You''ll look like crap.


    No, you can do it. Focus.


    "You have to use your diaphragm." Lightara reached out an arm to brush her fingertips under Ember''s breastbone. Ember held her breath instinctively, noticing the muscle in that spot contract. "Try to breathe slowly with your stomach."


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Ember closed her eyes and followed the instructions. She inhaled deeply, her stomach bulging instead of her chest. It was as if she was feeding on the musky scent, the dew that bathed the leaves and left a small seed inside her. She threw out all the air, trying to control her breathing, and it came out shuddering.


    The cloak''s vibration increased, but its rhythm changed. It was erratic.


    "I must admit, this is a new one for me."


    Lightara''s voice convinced her to open her eyes again. Looking down, Ember saw her own body intermittently distort and reappear, like a broken holographic screen.


    "I''ve never seen anyone disguise themselves intermittently before. You look like a Midsummer Festival decoration."


    Ember''s face burned. Before she could speak, a roar rang through the foliage. She shuddered, and what little concentration she had shattered.


    The Velanthra was approaching. On the screen, the red triangle was moving towards them at great speed.


    "Don''t lose your focus," Lightara scolded her.


    Too bad that was easier said than done. Ember tilted her head back, filling her lungs with musky air. A faint ray of sunlight filtered through the foliage, warming the tip of her nose. The roars of the Velanthra echoed in the background, taking her breath away again and again. They were like drums of war, warning her, threatening her.


    She should have run, not stood there waiting for the Velanthra to come and eat her.


    "Don''t think about it," Lightara whispered to her. Her voice tickled her neck.


    When had she come close? "Just think about your breathing. Slow down.


    With me."


    Ember felt her heart beat at an exaggerated rate. The situation seemed almost like a conspiracy against her - how could she stay calm with a Velanthra about to pounce on her and the Sergeant only a few steps behind her?


    But she followed Lightara''s command.


    She heard her inhale and did the same. She counted to seven before they both blocked the air in their lungs. Then another five seconds. Finally, they exhaled through the nose in one slow draw.


    She registered the sound of twigs breaking somewhere. Ember opened her eyes again, making sure to follow Lightara''s breathing. Her arms and legs had become difficult to distinguish, as if veiled by a translucent patina.


    "There you are," Lightara murmured to her, her chest brushing against Ember''s back.


    A massive shadow swooped down on them from above. The Velanthra''s long tail swayed skyward, its stubby but agile legs digging furrows in the ground with each step. It sniffed the air, its long whiskers dancing on its feline snout. With a soft grunt, it rose to its hind legs.


    "Keep breathing." Lightara stayed there, behind her. A silent presence. A pillar to which Ember clung with all her strength.


    Velanthra''s nostrils flared, yellow eyes flashing with frustration as they looked around. The wind blew on its fur, its grayness an almost alien color in the forest.


    Then, suddenly, the feline turned its head in their direction and snapped its fangs. A mighty roar swelled its chest.


    "Yeah. I forgot we should have covered ourselves with moss to hide the smell," Lightara said with a calmness that was completely at odds with the situation.


    "What?"


    Ember barely had time to ask before the Velanthra gobbled up the remaining distance and vibrated its claws in the air. Her breath caught as Lightara grabbed her by the hips and pulled her weight out of the feline''s path; the cloak''s effect ceased for both of them.


    "It''s time for plan B."


    "Do we have a plan B?" Ember widened her eyes at the beast, saliva dripping from its fangs.


    "You guessed it." Lightara positioned herself at her side, legs barely bent and hands raised, ready to fight. "We''ll kick it."


    "You want to kick a Velanthra?" Ember blurted out.


    The creature took a leap toward the trunk of a tree. It clung to the bark with its claws while its tail snapped up to wrap around a branch. The feline swung in the air, leaping from branch to branch. It flew around their heads, toying with its prey, confident that victory was in its grasp.


    It used the fronds to hide its exact position. Moving too fast. Ember spun around to try to spot it, but she could only see the vibrating fronds.


    She had no weapon except Knifey. And she doubted a switchblade would do much against this beast.


    A huge shadow formed at her feet. Ember barely noticed it as the Velanthra''s roar rang out above her; drops of saliva ran down her hair.


    "Look out!"


    Lightara appeared beside her. Quick as lightning, she threw herself backwards, defying gravity. Her legs arced upward; her foot struck the Velanthra''s snout with precision. She fell back to the ground, on her feet and ready to move again, as the cat slammed its back against a tree, hissing.


    Ember''s lips parted in a stunned expression. "You really... kicked it," she murmured, a wave of hysterical laughter shaking her chest.


    "I said it, Plan B."


    The Velanthra rose from the ground again. It shot up again and lost itself in the foliage, ready for another ambush.


    "You know, this is starting to get on my nerves," Ember said.


    Lightara leaned against her, back to back. She watched the sky and the branches. "You''d fight better if you shut up."


    Idiot.


    Ember curled her tongue and held her lips tight. Her heart was pumping at an exaggerated rate in her chest, the beat rumbling in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the woods. It was no good; she could no longer understand where the Velanthra was. And then she remembered Lumen.


    With a quick flick of her fingers, she called it back to her. The drone came out of the bushes, buzzing around her head like a mad dragonfly. Lightara nodded her head in agreement as soon as she understood the plan. Lumen rose above the trees.


    The red triangle on the holographic screen began to flash again.


    Ember ordered Lumen to fly towards it. She made it circle around the triangle, imagining it surrounding the Velanthra with its buzzing wings. She heard the feline roar. Then Lumen swooped down in front of them. The Velanthra followed soon after, trying to catch the drone between its fangs.


    But Lumen was already gone.


    Then Lightara acted. Her body bent in a perfect arc in the air, like a wheel suspended in the void. She lowered her shin into the Velanthra''s head from above. The blow rumbled like a whip. The creature slammed its muzzle hard against the ground. Lightara landed almost silently in front of the creature, with the grace of a panther. Without stopping, she whirled around and unleashed another kick that made the beast howl like a wounded puppy.


    Ember couldn''t take her eyes off the scene. Every move the Sergeant made was of deadly elegance.


    But then she shook her head and came to her senses. She unleashed Knifey.


    This is your moment. You can do it.


    Ember lunged at the Velanthra''s flank, blade extended in front of her. She collided with the beast''s muscular body. The knife sliced through flesh, a stream of dark blood staining the creature''s fur and Ember''s shirt. The Velanthra''s tail flicked out and twisted around the girl''s waist.


    Ember found her feet lifted from the ground; her hands slipped from Knifey''s, a sharp pain cutting off her breath. It seemed as if the Velanthra wanted to crush her and then throw her away like an old object. She clung to its tail, her legs kicking the air.


    You''re going to die. Bravo, moron.


    The Velanthra squeezed harder. Ember felt the bones in her pelvis crack. She let out a cry of pain, her torso buckling forward.


    Then the tail loosened its grip. Ember barely had time to catch her breath before she fell to her knees. Velanthra''s howls filled her ears. Panting, she lifted her eyes to see Lightara''s foot pressing against the creature''s eye.


    Come on, you can do it.


    Ember scrambled to her feet and threw herself back to the feline''s side. She pulled Knifey from the flesh and lunged for a nearby spot. She repeated the action over and over.


    Until the beast turned to strike with its tail. Lightara dodged it with a backward leap; instead, Ember shielded her face with her hands and landed with her butt on the ground. Rather than attack again, the Velanthra grabbed a branch and leapt into the depths of the woods. It left a trail of blood in its wake.


    Lightara relaxed with a sigh. "That wasn''t so bad." She held out her hand to Ember and helped her stand.


    The blood had gone to her head, and she felt her temples throbbing as adrenaline still coursed through her. "If by ''not bad'' you mean we''re still alive, yes. But everything hurts."


    "You''ll get over it soon. Next time will be even better."


    Ember avoided commenting that she would rather not live a second time. She cleaned up Knifey and followed the Sergeant back to the Academy with the shadow of a smile on her lips.

 Chapter 17

    The Glitterfrost exploded between her teeth. With each bite, their sweet freshness crumbled on her tongue and invaded her palate. Sitting on the inside windowsill, Ember leaned her back against the glass. The hum of the electromagnetic field made it vibrate, and though the sensation was mostly annoying at first, it had become soothing. Like a gentle massage, it loosened her tired muscles.


    "When I said you needed to gain weight, I didn''t mean it like that." Lightara held a file of papers in her hands and stood in front of her. Her red half-cloak fell at her side, and with the Academy''s artificial light casting a majestic shadow on the wall, she appeared even taller than usual.


    Ember stood with the Glitterfrost stick inches from her lips. She blushed and bowed her head, but didn''t hide a smile. "I ran all morning, faced a Velanthra, sparred with Viola for half an afternoon. I can afford a treat, can''t I?"


    Lightara let out a puff of air through her nose. "Glitterfrost is just crystallized sugar. I don''t see how you can eat that stuff."


    "Kind of like this?" Ember bit into a small sugar crystal and slid it off the stick, then chewed on it with her mouth closed. They tasted like what every child imagines snow tastes like before discovering it is nothing but dirty, cold water.


    They tasted like dreams. Like childhood.


    Ember ate them all the time as a little girl; her mother bought them for her at every party. The unmistakable flavor of Glitterfrost took her back to those days, to the feeling of her mother''s hand holding hers, protecting her from the winter cold, to the smile that had once convinced Ember that she was worth something.


    Mama''s girl.


    That smile had faded over time. Ember''s hand had been in the cold ever since, forced to hide in her sleeve for warmth.


    Lightara snapped her tongue against her palate in a bitingless ''tsk''. "At least don''t get indigestion."


    "All right, Mama - I mean, Sarge." Ember covered a giggle with her free hand.


    "I still say a steak would be better."


    "A steak after dinner?"


    Lightara closed the file with a dry gesture. She lifted her eyes to the other girl, a bright blue but not so cold anymore. "If you were hungry, you could have some extra meat for dinner, that''s what I meant."


    Ember smiled, swinging her foot into the void. "It''s not so much hunger as... a craving for something good."


    The Sergeant tucked the file under her arm and lifted her chin quizzically. "Dinner was more than good," she said, but there was a puzzled note in her tone. As if she couldn''t understand the need to change the flavor and opt for a breath of absolute sweetness.


    "Yes, but don''t you ever feel like eating something different?"


    Lightara remained motionless for a few moments before barely shaking her head. "No," she admitted, though the hesitation was obvious. Then she let out a sigh. "You have my sister''s taste, but at least she''s twelve."


    Ember leaned forward. The first button of her blouse undid itself, she moved a hand to fix it, but changed her mind halfway through. It was more comfortable that way. "You have a sister?"


    That''s who she meant that day. Who was the ''she'' who wouldn''t listen to her. Lightara was talking about her little sister, Ember had no doubt. A feeling of warmth entered her chest.


    Lightara turned her torso to the side, as if to escape her gaze. For once, she was the one who escaped. Ember''s eyes dropped to the other woman''s hand, closed at chest level; she imagined herself grasping it. Would it have been warm? Would that little contact have been enough to drive away at least an ounce of the cold that enveloped them both?


    Don''t be ridiculous; she doesn''t need you. It''s you who needs her.


    Ember blinked a few times. A gesture that served to bring her back to reality. She realized the Sergeant had no intention of answering her, so she focused on the Glitterfrost stick she held between her fingers. Three remained. Three small, crystal-shaped pieces of sugar.


    She jumped down from the windowsill. Her hips twitched with pain, bruised from the Velanthra''s tail squeeze. Ember gritted her teeth and pretended to be fine. Her cheeks flushed, she lifted the stick and offered it to the Sergeant. She thought to speak, but her voice caught in her throat.


    You really wanted to look like a baby, huh?


    Lightara tilted her head, not understanding. "I just told you, I don''t like them."


    "How long has it been since you tried them?" Ember asked. She sent down a lump of saliva that clogged her throat.


    The other woman frowned. Then she huffed, "I can''t remember. When I was a kid."


    You think you''re brilliant? You just look like a petulant child.


    Her heart pounded in her chest, and for some reason the image of Lightara helping her to control her breathing in the woods came back to her. Ember followed that rhythm again: she inhaled deeply, counted to seven, and then exhaled. She found that it only took that much to drown out her father''s voice inside her, at least this time.


    "You know, maybe your sister just needs to see that you can enjoy a treat once in a while," she said, waving the stick slightly in front of the other woman''s nose. "I swear a bite won''t make you too sappy."If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    It was obvious that Lightara was skeptical, but after a moment of reluctance, she actually took the stick. Their fingers brushed together. Ember waited a split second to enjoy the small warmth before releasing her grip. "I doubt a sugar cube will do much more than give me a cavity."


    Ember chuckled. "It sure helps with the mood."


    She rolled her eyes, but that only made Ember smile more.


    Lightara grabbed a Glitterfrost between her incisors and slid it down the stick. As she bit into it, the crunch of the crumbling crystal resonated with the hum of the electromagnetic field. She swallowed it and immediately her tongue flicked out to lick her lips. And a reddish blush clouded her cheeks; it was barely visible, so much so that Ember wondered if she hadn''t imagined it.


    "What''s it like?"


    "Stupid," Lightara replied. Her lips immediately curled into a half-smile. "But it''s not as bad as I remembered."


    That was enough.


    Ember took the stick back and stared at it for a long time, realizing that Lightara had actually touched it with her mouth. She knew it was a silly little-girl thought, but she couldn''t stop thinking of that exchange as more intimate than it actually was.


    Lame.


    "Anyway, I didn''t call you at this hour to eat treats," the other woman said.


    Ember lowered the Glitterfrost stick. It was better to distract herself for now. "Any news on Oblam or Jason?" She hadn''t liked talking about Jason since the day he''d snuck into her room, and she felt her shoulders automatically contract.


    "Nothing really. As far as I know, Oblam is preparing an alliance. With whom, I didn''t understand."


    If it was an alliance in the making, it was highly unlikely to be with the Ysnians.


    "I suspect it''s an alliance with the Islands of Alyandra," Lightara said after a while.


    Ember grabbed the stick between two fingers and turned it over in front of her as if it were meat on a barbecue. "Why the Islands of Alyandra?"


    "The Ysnians recently conquered two islands, and as far as I know, they are trying to impose their traditions. It would make sense to ally with Valestria; we could give them a chance at freedom." Lightara paused, then added, "And it would explain Oblam''s sudden fixation with tea."


    Ember didn''t hold back a chuckle, but quickly returned to seriousness. "That just leaves Jason as the prime suspect?"


    "That is, assuming his wasn''t just a stunt to scare you because he and Mark are the usual jerks."


    Normally, Lightara never made insulting comments about cadets in front of them or the officers. Since she had begun to let loose just enough to lower the wall of her defenses by a brick with Ember, her opinions had become glaringly obvious. It was clear that she regarded Mark as a spoiled, bullying child who needed to learn to duck, and Jason as his spineless sidekick. Just as Alpes was a pushy pain in the ass, Oblam an incompetent tea addict, and Phoenix an asshole who needed to learn to use his head more and his sword less.


    Ember had been tempted several times to ask her opinion about Ciel and Viola, but had always refrained. She preferred not to know. After all, she liked them, those two, and if Lightara had spoken ill of them, she would have been saddened.


    "So what''s the plan now?" she asked, her voice cracking.


    Lightara sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "We have to try to find out why Jason broke into your room. What was he really hoping to achieve?"


    Ember nodded, though inside she feared the rest of the answer. The Sergeant was an intelligent woman, but she usually lacked the patience to come up with effective plans. "You''re not going to tell me we have to sneak into his dorm, are you?"


    "No, that wouldn''t do any good." The other woman dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. Thankfully. "No, I think we should just press him. Maybe he''ll let something slip."


    "And how do we pressure him?"


    "We''ll ask him a few questions and make him believe he''ll get a bad punishment if he doesn''t confess."


    Ember raised her eyebrows in doubt. "No offense, but it just seems like a good way to expose ourselves."


    "If we never expose ourselves, we risk staying where we are, Ember."


    True, only she wasn''t sure if there wasn''t a better way to keep investigating without getting caught. But really, if Jason had been the traitor, this argument didn''t hold: his breaking into Ember''s dormitory already indicated the possibility that he knew.


    She was about to reply to the Sergeant that all in all it was an acceptable plan when she noticed a figure charging down the hall. Ember turned just in time to meet Alpes'' lanky gaze; he quickly turned away, as if hoping to get out of the girl''s mind, and continued on his way. He wasn''t even wearing a uniform; he was in civilian clothes, with a jacket and a neat, loose tie.


    Ember blinked, confused. It was unusual for Alpes to see her and not pry.


    "Um, Sarge?"


    Lightara followed her gaze only then, but Alpes was already gone. "What?"


    "Is the Lieutenant acting strangely, or is that just my impression?"


    "Why?"


    "He just flew through the corridor in a suit and tie, pretending not to have seen me." Ember pointed to where she had seen Alpes enter - and leave - the scene.


    "Strange," Lightara said. "He told me he was going to be in the office all evening; he had some urgent paperwork to do."


    The two exchanged a complicit look. There could very well have been an innocent motive, they both knew. Still, Ember couldn''t help but think back to the day she''d seen him leave his own office late at night, looking completely disheveled, as if he''d been on a run... .... or some other kind of physical activity.


    Throw in that a little lie and the unusual behavior, and it was impossible not to find him suspicious.


    What if he had gone to meet someone? What if that someone was the reason the mission to the Ysnian ruins had been a total failure?


    Lightara moved suddenly. At a brisk pace, she walked down the corridor, but in the opposite direction: towards the offices. Ember trotted behind her. "Send Lumen to track his movements."


    "You want to follow him?" she asked, already putting on her glove and unbuckling the drone from her belt.


    "Yes. But if he''s in a suit and tie, he''s probably headed into town." Lightara paused in front of her office. "Go change into civilian clothes, the more unnoticed we go, the better."


    Ember sent Lumen in pursuit. She had learned to set the automatic tracking: when it found Alpes just outside the Academy, she ordered it with a double twist of her fingers to follow him everywhere.


    Then she raised her head to Lightara and nodded firmly. She wasn''t sure if this was a good idea.


    If you never expose yourself, you risk staying where you are.


    It was a risk they had to take.


    "Yes, Sarge."

 Chapter 18

    The Noomadron jumped at every rock or root that came under its wheels. Ember clung to the handholds the seat was equipped with. In front of her, Lightara was at the controls with a serious and focused expression. She glided the Noomadron through the trees of the sacred wood, toward the city, at lightning speed.


    A little too fast. Ember was sure that the speed limit was much lower. She doubted that speeding in the middle of the woods was considered safe.


    As soon as she had returned from her own dorm, Ember had found Lightara waiting for her outside her office. It was the first time she had seen her in civilian clothes, and the Sergeant had decided to torture her by wearing a tailored suit with a striped jacket with a wide, pointed collar that matched the white blouse underneath perfectly.


    Ember had wasted a good handful of seconds staring at her with a dumbfounded expression. When Lightara had told her to hurry up and turned around, Ember had wiped her mouth, just in case: she didn''t trust that she hadn''t drooled. And in that moment on the Noomadron, she concentrated on the fine lines that crossed Lightara''s suit, making her look even taller than usual. She concentrated on the way the color of the cloth seemed darker when the foliage obscured the moon''s faint glow, and how it turned a brighter red in direct light instead.


    All to avoid thinking about the fact that the Noomadron could have crashed into a tree at any moment. Or into a Velanthra.


    "Did he stop?" the Sergeant shouted to her from the front seat, trying to get over the roar of the engine.


    Ember checked her glove''s holographic screen. The small triangle that marked Alpes'' movements had turned gold to distinguish him from the others. "He''s slowed down, but he''s still moving. Maybe he''s just walking around town?"


    "Dressed like he''s going to a gala? I doubt it."


    Ember tilted her head. "No offense, Sarge, but I don''t think you can talk at all."


    The other woman sighed, not taking her eyes off the road. "It''s just an imitation of his elegance. Wherever he''s going, it''s clear that one is expected to enter dressed in a certain way."


    These were the physical and practical details that Ember never thought about.


    That''s why you dressed as if you were going shopping.


    Ember touched the collar of the shirt with its fine blue embroidery. She had rolled the sleeves up over her arms because she thought it looked cool.


    Rather, you look like a moron.


    She brought her attention back to the triangle representing Alpes. "He''s not alone. There''s someone else walking next to him."


    "Maybe we''re on the right track."


    "Or maybe we''re following the Lieutenant on his way to a date."


    She got a half groan in response. Lightara drove on in silence, the blue lights that ran along the sides of the Noomadron creating highlights in her hair.


    They reached Bethus after a handful of minutes. Lightara had to slow down; the streets of the city were packed with traffic. A group of kids crossed without looking, giggling, their shorts so baggy they flapped in the wind. Lightara brought the Noomadron to a screeching halt to avoid running them over; Ember clutched the handles so hard she hurt herself, her hair falling back in front of her eyes.


    "Tsk. Isn''t it a little late to be letting kids run around like that?" Lightara started the Noomadron again, but with an almost maddening slowness. She kept an eye on all the people walking along the side of the road, to make sure no one was planning to suddenly cross again.


    "They were coming back from the beach, I guess," Ember said with disinterest.


    "It''s still late. They should have a curfew. We''re still a nation at war."


    But Bethus, despite being the city that housed the largest military academy in Valestria, lived as if it did not even know that a war existed. The city was always alive, even though the sun had set, with streetlights casting beams of light onto the pavement. People walked about undisturbed, buildings towered high into the sky, not at all afraid of the possibility that the Ysnians might overrun the Valestrian defenses and send a Vylian overnight to destroy everything.


    The smell of saltiness tasted like home to Ember. It tasted like home in a way that warmed her chest and made her guts churn in her stomach at the same time.


    Lightara parked the vehicle in a square. The Noomadel''s glow went out and the engine was muted. When they got out, Ember led the way to an unfamiliar neighborhood: shop windows displayed strange and seemingly useless merchandise, such as ceramic mugs so richly decorated and looking so fragile that no one would dare use them, or jewelry that seemed to glow with its own light.


    It must have been one of the wealthier districts of Bethus. The ones Ember had learned to avoid since childhood.


    Those streets are for daddy''s boys with a stuck-up attitude. The useless pussies of society.


    That''s what her father used to say. Ember didn''t like the way he talked about rich people like they were scum to be hated, but sometimes when she saw dandy-looking men, she thought of them as ''pussies''. She mentally punched herself each time.


    The golden triangle stopped at a point on the holographic map. Ember found Lumen hovering outside a club door.


    "He''s in here," she said, giving Lightara a questioning look.


    The Sergeant nodded, her hands in her pockets. "Stay close to me and try to be inconspicuous."


    "Um, what excuse do we use for being here together if Alpes notices us?" Ember returned Lumen to its metal square form and placed it in her pocket. Then she took off her gloves and stayed in her casual outfit.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Lightara pushed the door open and entered. Slow, soft music came from inside. "We''ll say I brought you here to learn to dance."


    The Sergeant disappeared behind the door, and Ember stood outside for a few more seconds. She waited - and hoped - for the air to cool her cheeks. Was it her impression, or did the excuse make no sense?


    Stop fantasizing and move your ass.


    Ember cleared her throat and followed the Sergeant into the club. Her heart was beating at an exaggerated rate, completely out of sync with the music that filled the walls. It was a large room where a bouncer greeted her and Lightara with a grim face and a doubtful look. But for some reason, he considered them harmless, or at least worthy enough to enter, and said nothing. He stood as still as a statue of salt, his huge arms crossed over his chest.


    Ember stayed close to Lightara. She felt like a fish in the desert in that environment. She nearly ran out of air. People looked down at her as they passed her, their glasses filled with champagne or some fizzy alcoholic beverage that Ember could not recognize. Everyone knew she had nothing to do with this place.


    She stood close to Lightara, a little too close. She felt the warmth of the Sergeant''s body, which gave her comfort. "How is teaching me to dance supposed to be a good cover?"


    The other woman scanned the faces of those present. She turned her attention to the couples dancing gracefully on the dance floor and the people standing at the bar, chatting and drinking. "Combat and dance are not that different. Learning one can help you with the other."


    Ember doubted that, but avoided pointing it out. After all, what did she know? Maybe learning to dance was really part of the military training.


    Don''t start fantasizing again. Focus.


    Keeping the thought of Lightara leading her out onto the dance floor, hands intertwined and bodies close together, was harder than expected.


    "There he is." The Sergeant pointed to the bar with a nod of her chin.


    There, talking and smiling with a woman, was Alpes. He ran a hand through his hair, swirling the wine in his glass. The woman with him was tall, her fair hair neatly pulled back in a comfortable, aristocratic bun. The dress she wore did not go unnoticed, a soft fabric with many veils.


    Ember pressed the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek. "Um, why exactly are we following the Lieutenant on a date?"


    Even Lightara appeared confused for a few seconds. She looked at the woman as if she couldn''t understand how an officer could have an affair when there was a war going on. But she recovered quickly and shook her head. "We''re here now, let''s make sure this is really what it looks like."


    She accompanied Ember to the counter behind Alpes. A few silent men separated them from the Lieutenant. It was enough to hope that he would not notice them. And to keep him in check. Ember sat down at the bar. The seat was too high for her, and she wasted time adjusting the hem of her shirt while waiting for the Sergeant to turn around before she jumped up to avoid looking like a dork. The bartender offered them a glass of clear, fizzy liquid without asking. It was the same one they were all drinking in there.


    Maybe that''s all they had.


    Maybe any other kind of drink was considered too beggarly in there.


    Ember turned it over in her hands, not quite sure what to do with it. Alcohol stank to her, and it tasted like stomach acid. And it reminded her of her father''s breath when he shouted insults at her.


    Lightara didn''t even notice, too focused on eavesdropping on Alpes and the mystery woman.


    "Don''t you find it strange how every mechanism needs a pivot to turn?" The woman''s voice was barely audible, a deep, sensual timbre. She smiled as she tilted her goblet toward Alpes. "Even the most perfect machines stop without a guidance."


    Alpes clinked his goblet with the woman''s. "Ah, you are a philosopher and a classy lady. You are full of surprises, huh?"


    Ember swung her feet from the seat. It always amazed her to witness moments of live flirtation between people. It felt like watching a play, with the same script recurring in all the scenes.


    Maybe she was too cynical.


    Maybe just envious.


    "I just like to know what makes things move. Or people. There''s always a gear or a reason that makes everyone act a certain way." The woman spoke with a rhythmic cadence, almost as if each sentence was a little song. "What about you, Robert? What drives you?"


    Alpes half chuckled before taking a sip. "To be honest, talking about gears wasn''t part of my plans for tonight."


    The woman put her hand on his chest. "A heart without gears doesn''t beat. Perhaps mine is just an excuse to understand you better."


    Ember didn''t quite know what to make of the woman. She spoke strangely, not only because of her cadence, but also because of her obsession with gears. Surely she was working hard to lure Alpes in, even though it was obvious she didn''t really need to.


    She noticed, however, that Lightara was clenching her fist on the counter. So tightly that her knuckles were white. What was wrong with her?


    "That bastard," she heard her mutter.


    Ember didn''t understand. She slid a little closer, trying to ignore the scent of cherry and leather that made her head spin. "Sarge? Are you all right?"


    Lightara shook her head. "That woman. She''s a Ysnian."


    Ember just blinked in complete confusion. How did she know? But then it hit her: the accent, the cadence, the strange speech patterns. Gears were what Ysnian was all about. She glanced at the woman who kept her hand on Alpes'' arm; they spoke more quietly now, whispering in each other''s ears, in an intimate way. As if they were used to being together.


    She was reminded of that evening when Alpes had come out of his office, his uniform half unbuttoned and looking distracted.


    "He was with her that day," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.


    But Lightara understood quickly, and brought her fingers to the root of her nose. "He let her into the Academy. In his office. That imbecile."


    What were the chances that this was habitual? Was it possible that the intruder that day in Oblam''s office had been this woman?


    Then what did Jason have to do with it? Maybe nothing. Maybe Jason''s was really just a malicious prank.


    "I mean, maybe... Maybe this is unrelated. Just because she''s a Ysnian doesn''t make her our enemy, does it?" Ember didn''t know why she suddenly found herself defending Alpes. She didn''t even like the Lieutenant. He was a moron, most of the time.


    Lightara sighed. "No. But it''s too much of a coincidence."


    True.


    Ember didn''t have many other objections to Alpes'' defense. Maybe the woman was using him, she thought. Maybe he was aware of it. But certainly their relationship was a good motive for treason. "What do we do now?"


    The woman rose from the counter and dragged Alpes by the arm toward the dance floor.


    Lightara hesitated for a moment, her eyes following them until they were lost among the other couples. "We need to gather more information," she said as she adjusted her jacket and stood. She nodded at the dance floor. "Now, we dance."

 Chapter 19

    Light dragged Ember to the dance floor, ignoring her polemics. The other girl, her cheeks flushed, followed, her eyes fixed on the floor, not knowing where to look. Light glanced at her briefly, but her attention remained on Alpes and the Ysnian woman. They danced in each other''s arms, a slow rhythm; swayed among the other couples, exchanging smiles.


    Light calculated the situation well, her fingers gripping Ember''s hand. She decided to stay behind a stiff-looking couple, to hide. Not that it would have helped. Alpes seemed too lost in the Ysnian woman''s eyes to pay attention to anything else.


    Light turned toward Ember. The chandeliers'' glow created an intricate web of light and shadow on her face.


    "Can you dance?" Light asked, holding out her left hand.


    Ember hesitated, her arm raised in the air. She bit her lip and kept her distance, as if afraid of burning herself. "N-no," she admitted with an edge to her voice.


    Light reached out her hand for Ember''s. She supported it. "It''s easy. Just follow my steps." She pulled her a little closer to her body and began to move her feet.


    Slowly. She followed the music, that seemed to drag. Notes hovered in the room like a cloud of smoke, elusive and enigmatic. With each breath, Light felt it descend into her chest to nestle there. To wrap itself around her heart.


    Ember looked down. She was red enough to look like she was about to explode, yet she maintained absolute concentration on the movement. Each time she lent Light''s foot, she bared her teeth for a split second and mumbled an apology. Strands of blonde fell disheveled on her forehead.


    The hand that held Light''s shoulder tightened a little around the fabric of her jacket. As if searching for an anchor.


    Light barely held back a half smile. She wasn''t there to enjoy watching Ember try not to stumble. She had a goal.


    Alpes and the woman danced around, almost embracing, heedless of the other couples. For the moment, they seemed too focused on enjoying each other''s warmth to talk.


    "Um, Sarge?" Ember''s voice was a flicker making its way through the cloud of smoke.


    "Hmm?" Light kept her eyes on Alpes. Waiting for a misstep. Anything that might give away the woman''s intentions, or his possible betrayal.


    "I guess I''m not cut out for dancing."


    She huffed, gripping Ember''s hand tighter in hers. "You just gotta learn."


    "Besides, I don''t think it''s a good idea. What if they see us? It doesn''t make sense, what sergeant takes a cadet dancing for training?"


    While Light appreciated the fact that Ember had begun to speak her mind, at least to her, the girl was sometimes annoying. "When I was a cadet, my sergeant did just that. He took us all dancing."


    That shut her up, at least for a moment. "Oh," she murmured then, biting her lip as if to hold back more words. "And how did you do?"


    "Better than you," Light replied. She held out her arm to allow Ember to turn on herself; it took her a few moments too long to figure out what to do. Once back in position, she sought Light''s shoulder as a lifeline. She was red to the tips of her ears.


    Light had hated dancing lessons. Like Ember, she''d complained to her sergeant about the stupidity of the activity. In her case he actually believed in it, and wasn''t just using it as an excuse to keep an eye on a possible traitor. As a woman, they had tried to pair her with a boy, and the theory was that she was supposed to learn to follow him. But the result had been quite different: after several clumsy attempts on his part, Light had switched roles, and eventually she had led.


    Many had laughed at the boy. He was less ''manly'' than Light, they said. She had responded with a contemptuous "tsk" and left. The next time, she had asked another girl to dance, and no boy had dared to object.


    She had never had any fun. And in truth, she wasn¡¯t having fun now. Ember''s awkward reactions might have been amusing had she not been distracted by watching Alpes and the Ysnian woman.


    Light pressed her hand against the other girl''s hip with a little more force as she led her, step by step, around a couple that blocked her view. The way Ember kept stumbling distracted her from her goal; Ember''s soft body allowed itself to be supported with unexpected trust, seemed to rely on her completely. Light''s hand slid higher, finding the curve of her waist. How light it was under her fingers. As if a breath could blow her away. But she knew it was only an appearance: beneath that fragile facade, Ember was much stronger than she appeared. Light swallowed and returned her attention to the target, but the feeling remained.


    The Ysnian woman whispered something in Alpes'' ear. Impossible to tell what, from this distance, especially with all the commotion and music in the background. He frowned as he listened to her words and barely shook his head.


    "I can''t," his lips said. The sound did not come, but he scanned the words so well that it was easy to read his lips. "Not again."


    He couldn''t what?


    Light moved again. Too fast. Ember stomped to follow, but someone bumped into her. A tall, lanky man with slicked-back hair; he gave Ember an annoyed look, as if she had been the one to bump into him.


    "Sorry," she muttered, clutching Light.


    The man''s companion lifted her chin haughtily. "Watch where you step." She spoke strangely, as if she had egg in her mouth. She pretended to have a typical northern Valestrian accent, but it was obvious that it was false.


    "Tsk." Light dragged Ember away, not even bothering to reply.


    The Ysnian woman had moved away from Alpes by now. Only a few steps. They were no longer dancing, staring at each other in the middle of the floor. Alpes tried to approach her. He took her arm and whispered something. She shook her head with conviction and broke free of his grip.


    Ember stopped moving. Light felt her weight against her chest as the girl leaned forward to watch the scene.


    The Ysnian woman walked off the dance floor in a straight line, forcing the couples to move aside to let her pass.


    "Isme, wait!" Alpes shouted behind her. He moved only a few steps before the people blocked his path again with their pirouettes.


    Light stubbed her feet. Her fingers slipped from Ember''s as a thousand unanswered questions filled her head. Why had they quarreled? What was it that he could no longer do for her? Something that had angered her enough to set up that scene in the middle of the club.


    He had gotten her into the Academy once. What if this was it? What if the woman was trying to convince Alpes to let her back in? A theory based on thin air, but it was the only reasonable answer that removed the doubt from any of her questions.


    Her feet moved without her commanding them. By the time she realized that she was only a few steps away from Alpes, who was suddenly staring at her in a dazed manner, it was too late. "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed at him. There, in the middle of the floor.


    The same couple that had bumped into Ember moments before were giving her a disdainful look. Light ignored them.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Alpes stood dumbfounded for a few seconds. The music changed, the mysterious, smoky atmosphere giving way to a sappy ballad. Finally, he lit up with a forced smile. "Lightara, what are you doing here? I didn''t know you liked to dance." He just tilted his head. "Hello to you too, Ember. What an interesting pairing."


    "Ah, we..."


    Light raised her arm to silence Ember. She obeyed without hesitation and took a step back. "Don''t change the subject. Who was that woman?"


    "I didn''t take you for the jealous type." Alpes pulled his hair back. He kept flashing that wavering smile, but his body language screamed urgency. His feet were pointed toward the exit. He wanted to follow the woman. "Maybe we should talk outside, away from the music?"


    "No need. You can answer me in a few words." Light clenched her fists, barely resisting the urge to throw the information out with a good punch to the stomach. "Who is that woman? And why did you let her into the Academy without permission?"


    "What?" Alpes put his hand to his heart.


    A defensive pose. "What are you talking about?"


    "You smuggled a Ysnian woman into the Academy. Don''t you think that''s suspicious?"


    "As suspicious as you being here dancing with one of your cadets, you mean?"


    It was a low blow. Light snapped her tongue in annoyance and grabbed his jacket by the lapels. "Don''t put me on the same level. I was right to be suspicious of you."


    Alpes pushed the hand away and pulled out of her grip. Light didn''t resist, but stayed close to him. "Do you think the fact that I''m with a Ysnian is so terrible? Is that the problem?"


    "I don''t give a damn who you date, Alpes. What I don''t want is you letting unauthorized people into the Academy. At night, no less."


    "You''re accusing me based on what? Suspicion?"


    The couples had moved away, leaving an empty crater with only the three of them in the center. They danced around them as if nothing had happened. As if they were used to scenes like this.


    Light pinched the bridge of her nose. She had to breathe or she would explode. She was already exploding. Why did no one ever take things seriously in this damn place? "Did you let her in, yes or no?"


    Alpes swallowed. It was blatant, the Adam''s apple dancing in his throat. "What are you going to do? Report me? You have no proof."


    Light took that as a yes. "Why did you fight? Did she want you to let her back in and get mad because you said no?"


    Alpes turned his head toward the exit. Perhaps he was still waiting for the woman to return. He acted like a little dog. "Don''t talk about things you don''t know."


    "Then tell me why!"


    "It''s none of your business!"


    They both raised their voices. No one paid attention to them anymore. But someone walked away from the floor, annoyed, noses turned up.


    Light felt a hand tug on her sleeve. Ember. "Sarge..."


    The red of Alpes'' hair mingled with the gold of the club. A flame bathed in impenetrable armor. Light couldn''t divert her attention from him. She wanted to force the words from his mouth. She wanted him to admit his guilt.


    "I should report this to the Colonel," she said. "Maybe you can tell him, why you let a Ysnian woman use you like a lovesick schoolboy."


    Alpes straightened the sleeves of his jacket. Stiff, as serious as she had ever seen him. Protected by all the gold around him. "And what are you going to tell him? I told you, you have no proof. It''s your word against mine." He glanced at Ember. "You, on the other hand. I could tell him that you dragged a cadet into your game of traitor hunting. You just can''t bring yourself to admit your mistakes, can you?"


    Light lost the ability to speak. To breathe. To move. Her body froze, became a piece of ice, destined to stay there until it thawed. Until it melted and there was nothing left of her.


    "There is no traitor, Lightara! That mission was not your fault, it was not my fault, it was no one''s fault. Stop using your cadets to fight a responsibility you can''t accept."


    She raised her arm. She wanted to silence him. But words were not enough. So she charged her fist, and two arms wrapped around her elbow. They held her tight.


    "Sarge, please," Ember murmured to her. It almost sounded like a plea. "The bouncer," she added.


    Light drew her attention away from Alpes. It was as if someone had burst a bubble around her, freeing her from a prison of which she was unaware of. The bouncer made his way toward them, his muscles bulging and his stride heavy.


    A guy like that would have been easy to knock out.


    "I must ask you to leave," the bouncer said, his deep voice contrasting with the softness of the melody in the background.


    Alpes gave him one of his smiles. "Of course, sir. We''re sorry for the inconvenience. We were just leaving. Weren''t we?"


    Light, however, had already started for the exit. The air outside froze her thoughts. She walked on, not knowing where she was going. She was searching for silence. She was looking for a place where the city lights would not blind her, where they would dim enough for her to experience the darkness of the evening. Away from the hum of the engines.


    Away from the Alps.


    Away from the academy.


    Far away from everything.


    She heard a voice behind her. Faint, trembling. Light ignored it and kept walking.


    "Sarge!" she called again. "Sarge!" And again.


    And then, "Lightara!"


    Light came to a sudden halt, her heart roaring in her chest like a drumbeat. The light of a street lamp bathed her from above, forming a circle at her feet. She lifted her head to admire the sliver of moon obscured by clouds. It was barely visible, a shy ghost watching her from above.


    Ember ran to cover the last few steps that separated them. Her breathing was heavy, but she was not tired. She stood before her, in the middle of the same circle of light, shrouded in darkness. She played with the flame-shaped pendant, her lips parted. She tensed before releasing the pendant and taking a deep breath.


    "We''re all running from something," she said.


    Light didn''t understand. She just stared at her, waiting for an explanation.


    "You told me." Ember shook her head and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were huge, glowing. "But we''re not just running away, you and I."


    Was that really the case?


    Light was running away from so many things. From Eira. From the guilt. From the possibility that the traitor was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. As far as she knew, all the things that had happened were just coincidences.


    ¡°What are we doing then?¡± she asked, her tone tired.


    Ember took a step forward, the light enveloping her. " We''re fighting for something we believe in. Alpes is right, we lack proof. But now we have a direction."


    Amazing how someone who often seemed confused and lacking in leadership could hide such a mature heart. Who knew what had led Ember to become that way, that mixture of fragility and strength that sometimes made her destibilized.


    Light turned her gaze to the lamppost, to its scaly surface. "Alpes is right, I shouldn''t drag you into this."


    Ember shook her head, her blonde hair flying in front of her face. Determined. "No. I won''t- I won''t stand by and watch you risk everything on your own."


    "Ember..."


    "I chose to help you of my own free will. Please let me- let me fight."


    Light couldn''t find the words to answer. She was reminded of the image Ember had drawn of her: a fearless woman, a heroine willing to throw herself into danger. That woman didn''t exist except in the imagination of a cadet who, for some reason, blindly believed in her Sergeant.


    Yet in that moment, under the flickering light of the street lamp, she saw that woman reflected in Ember''s eyes.


    "All right," she finally murmured. The words were uncertain, almost a whisper.


    Ember smiled, and the beam of the streetlight found a warmer, more vivid glow. It left Light with the fleeting feeling of something she wished she could cherish, if only for a moment. "Good. Because judging by the mess you made today, I think you need me."


    Light huffed a half-smile. "Who taught you to be such a smartass?"


    "You did?"


    Light shook her head and rolled her eyes, a new ease in her chest. "Shut up and move. It''s late." She started walking again, smiling at the sound of Ember''s footsteps beside her.

 Chapter 20

    Ember sat by the window, her chin resting on the palm of her hand. From her history class, she could see the back of the Academy, with its vast training fields.  Another section trained in the use of weapons, wielding swords in repetitive exercises. Professor Minn''s words came to her muffled, unable to penetrate the bubble of thought that surrounded her; it was just a monotonous voice, lost in the memory of last night.


    The argument with Alpes was a nail in the wall of her mind, as were the questions about the mysterious Ysnian woman. But in truth, her mind was leading her back even more determinedly in an entirely different direction, to minor details that she could not shake.


    Lightara''s hand holding hers. The way their bodies moved together. Ember had been so clumsy, she remembered almost every little mistake she had made. Every time she had stepped on Lightara''s toes.  But the Sergeant had supported and guided her as if nothing had happened.


    Something sharp stabbed her in the shoulder. Ember returned to the present and turned to face Ciel, who was poking her with the tip of a pencil. "Hey, you don''t look like you care about the Battle of Kaddan," she said, lips curled into a mischievous grin.


    Ember ran her hand down her neck, following the shape of the chain until she reached the flame-shaped pendant. "Um, no, I was distracted."


    "I can see that." Ciel winked at her. Ember looked away, feeling her face burn.


    It''s not like she can read your mind, calm down.


    From the desk behind her, Viola watched her with a raised eyebrow. She said nothing, and Ember shook her head, begging her not to speak; Ciel, however, pointed at Ember''s red cheeks with a giggle.


    If you get a shovel, you might be able to dig yourself a hole by the end of the day.


    Viola leaned forward. "Stop being an ass and concentrate," she said to Ciel, who rolled her eyes at the ceiling.  Viola reached over to the bench to slap her back. "If Ember wants to daydream about Sergeant, you have no right to tease her."


    "Huh?"


    Gotcha. Where could you find the shovel?


    Ciel hid the laughter behind her hand, fingers doing the twirling of the pencil.


    Professor Minn gave her a wry look from her desk. With her glasses perched on the tip of her nose and her hair in an elegant bob, she continued to speak without looking at the book in her hand. As if she knew it by heart. As if she were the book. "Valestria was dealt a heavy blow in Kaddan, but the large number of the Valestri Lines allowed to hold off the invaders until the army arrived."


    Ember focused all her attention on her for the next few seconds. Professor Minn seemed a discordant note in the brooding of her thoughts, but she strove to keep her in the center.


    At least until the professor buried her nose in her book again. Ember clenched her tongue between her teeth. Focus. But her hand still tingled, the memory of Lightara''s fingers supporting her still fresh in her mind, the vulnerability on her face in the light of the street lamps.


    A thud made her jump out of her chair. Professor Minn had slammed the book down on the desk. "Cadet Leroy, what do you think of the Battle of Kaddan? Can you give us your thoughts on it?"


    In the storeroom. You will definitely find it in the storeroom, the shovel.


    Ember gasped like a fish out of water for a few seconds.


    What in the world had the Professor said? "Um, the battle was a... problem, because... we weren''t..."


    A frown of disappointment appeared on Professor Minn''s face. Ember locked her feet behind the legs of the chair, desperately searching for an anchor.


    "The Valestri Lines allowed for resistance to Ysnian magic." Viola''s voice came to her in a whisper. Barely fighting the urge to turn away, Ember tried to parrot her words. "...But the battle sanctioned the first point of no return for magic."


    She received a nod of agreement from the professor, who resumed the lesson as if nothing had happened.


    Ember let out a sigh. She tore a sheet of paper from her sketchbook and drew a frightened, shaggy chick with blond hair and the words ''that was me, thanks for saving me''.  She handed it to Viola, who giggled.


    On the other side of the room, Mark and Jason were talking. Ember could feel their eyes on her, a weight she had learned to recognize over time. On this day, however, it tasted more bitter than usual.


    Ignore them.


    Just ignore them for now.


    Ember scribbled something on the paper to distract herself. She should listen to the lesson, but she also knew there was no point in forcing herself. The graphite of the pencil created images on the white, small curtains of a giant foot kicking Mark and Jason''s butts. Ciel glanced sideways and with a grin added a few stars for decoration.


    With the class over, they all made their way down the hall. Ciel pulled Ember and Viola by the arm. "I''d kill for some food, wouldn''t you?"


    "You had breakfast a little over an hour ago," Viola pointed out.


    "Yeah, so what?"


    Ember opened her mouth to speak, to help Viola, but stopped short. There, at the far end of the hallway, a hand resting on his red hair, was Alpes. He was walking toward them. Toward her.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Ember ran her hand down her neck where it met the chain, and fear climbed over her like a vine.


    He is coming for you. He wants to use you against Lightara.


    You will be her downfall.


    And the downfall of the kingdom.


    "Hey, are you okay?" Viola barely nudged her shoulder to get her attention.


    Ember stirred, but the creep kept rising, locking her muscles. "Huh? Um, y-yes."


    Alpes interrupted them, stopping directly in front of them. A tall, imposing presence. Had he always been this tall?


    He looked at them with a new and unusual determination. "Ember," he said, then corrected himself in a more serious tone, "Leroy."


    Ember took a step back without noticing. She backed into Ciel, who put her hands on her shoulders. A comfort that was not enough to melt her fear. "Yes?"


    "Come to my office. I need to speak with you about an important matter."


    Before she could answer, Alpes started walking again. Stiffer than usual. He left her standing there, breathing heavily, hands clasped at her sides.


    "What has Alpes done? I never thought I''d see him so upset," Ciel said.


    Viola nodded while Ember kept her head down. "Excuse me," she muttered, and walked away with great strides.


    ?????????


    Outside it began to rain. A few large drops fell on the window behind the desk, dripping quietly. Alpes'' study was overflowing with curious knickknacks: models of dragons and other mythological creatures, golden hourglasses, and sword-shaped paperweights lined the shelves. But under the gray light of an approaching rainy day, everything looked gloomy.


    Ember felt almost watched. The open jaws of dragons greeted her from above, like so many small creatures ready to attack.


    You should¡¯ve called the Sergeant. You cannot face him alone.


    But Ember had not wanted to ask Lightara for help. She had promised to help her, not be a burden to protect. It was time for her to face the situation on her own.


    Alpes absentmindedly tugged at the lapels of his jacket and sat down behind the desk. Without his usual friendly smile, his face looked grim. Stern. He was almost a different person.


    "Ember, about what happened yesterday," he began, pausing for a long sigh. "I understand that you hold Lightara in high esteem. But please don''t let yourself get into dangerous situations."


    Every one of Ember''s internal alarms screamed and flashed red.


    She twisted her fingers in her lap. "Is that a threat, Lieutenant?" Her voice trembled. She hated it with every fiber of her being.


    "What? No, absolutely not. That''s not my intention. I''m just trying to make you realize that you should be careful." Alpes settled better against the backrest. "This is not a game, Ember. And you should focus on your training, that''s your priority."


    Ember dug her nails into the palm of her hand. She made small white grooves and watched them in silence. She waited for the grooves to fade, but did not speak even then.


    She had promised Lightara she wouldn''t leave her.


    Alpes seemed to take the hint, for he let out a weary sigh. "Look, I know what you''re thinking. I know how it sounds. But Isme is no threat to Valestria or the Academy."


    "Do you really think there is no traitor?" Ember interrupted him suddenly, her voice weak and her eyes still downcast.


    "I don''t know, Ember. But Isme and I certainly had nothing to do with it."


    Hard to believe.


    But Ember nodded, understanding. After all, Alpes was right about one thing: Lightara was easily lost in speculation without knowing the whole story. But Alpes'' behavior certainly didn''t help him look any less guilty.


    She watched him pick up a colored paperweight to play with. She watched him think carefully about what words to say. He hesitated too much. He was nervous. "The way Lightara is using you is problematic, Ember. If I tell the Colonel about this, she could even face harsh punishment."


    What did I say? He''s using you against her. Far from helping her, you will ruin everything.


    The Sergeant''s half-smile returned to her mind''s eye. Ember had promised that icy, lost look that she would stay by her side.


    You only risk making things worse. Let it go.


    No. You don''t just run. You are fighting. Don''t give up now.


    She frowned and stood up. Her legs were shaking, her hands were frozen and sweaty at the same time. "I doubt the Colonel will think it''s that important when I tell him you let a Ysnian woman in here at night."


    Alpes blinked, his lips parted. The paperweight fell from his fingers and rolled across the desk. "You have no proof."


    "But I would cast doubt."


    "Really? Need I remind you how the Jason Oers thing turned out?"


    A flash of lightning flashed past the window. In that fleeting moment, the vase of colorful flowers on the windowsill seemed to stretch. The stems appeared gray, the withered petals folded in on themselves as if in silent lament. A few moments later, thunder rumbled in the distance.


    Ember pressed her hands against her pants, trying to stop them from shaking. "You are so afraid that you call me here. It''s two against one, Lieutenant."


    Alpes turned his attention to the paperweight lying upside down on the desk. He picked it up between his fingers and put it back in its place. When he was done, he shook his head as if not satisfied.


    "Yes, you are becoming a real soldier." Those words hit her right in the heart. A strange tinge veiled his eyes, a combination of admiration and resignation. "You can go now. I won''t mention this to the Colonel if you promise to do the same."


    Had she won? For now, at least.


    Ember felt the shaking finally stop. The tension let go of her, the crawl of fear dissipating one spiral at a time. "Of course," she murmured. That one word hung in the air as the rain fell harder against the window, making haunting music.


    She left the office, footsteps echoing softly on the carpet. The door closed behind her, leaving Alpes and his threats on the other side, along with the rumble of thunder.


    You made it.


    A smile spread across her lips. Ember took the flame-shaped pendant between her fingers, still imagining Lightara''s withered smile. Would she have been proud?


    A movement, quick and fleeting, caught her attention. Ember tilted her head, sharpening her vision. She waited to make sure the shadow did not reappear. Her thoughts flew to Jason. What if he was the one eavesdropping?


    You''re just being paranoid.


    Whoever it was was gone. The chances that he was just a passing cadet were high. Still, Ember struggled to ignore the way her heart was pounding in her chest.

 Chapter 21

    The buzzing of the airship took away Ember''s ability to think, a metallic hum vibrating through the metal. Like a heart beating behind the walls. The electromagnetic coils became almost deafening with each rotation. All mixed with the chatter of her fellow cadets. Sitting in the back row, her gloved hands in her lap, she tried to calm her own heartbeat with her breathing. Just as Lightara had taught her over the past month. She took slow, deep breaths, her diaphragm contracting to draw air into her lungs.


    The seat sucked her in like a vacuum cleaner. Its ergonomic structure had taken her shape as soon as she sat down. It felt like she was in a protective cocoon designed to absorb even the most intense vibrations. Getting back up was not going to be easy.


    She could feel her heart slowing down little by little until it stabilized. With a sigh, Ember ran a hand through her hair, pulled it back, and focused on the rest of her team.


    The low-frequency electroluminescent tubes on the ceiling cast a bluish light on the cadets'' faces. They highlighted every sign of fatigue, every flaw in their skin.


    Mark was as far away from her as possible, with his reinforced uniform and confident grin on his face. "I was the one who found the ancient Ysnian technological weapon," he boasted, and the others around him nodded enthusiastically.


    Jason didn''t, he stood with his arms folded and his eyes lost in the void. He made a small snort with the side of his mouth at Mark''s words, but did not interrupt him. Perhaps his friend was taking credit where none was due?


    Since that day in the dorm, Ember had felt a mixture of fascination, hatred, and fear for Jason. She never missed an opportunity to watch him from a distance. She had learned to recognize the boy''s gestures, the way he pulled back in his chair or seat and detached himself from the conversation when he had nothing to add, the way the corners of his lips turned up when he tried to hide irritation, or the way he constantly puffed his hair out of his eyes. But through it all, he had never shown any signs of having anything else on his mind besides classes, training, and that idiot Mark.


    The dark metallic walls of the airship vibrated with each turn. Ember ran her tongue between her lips and averted her attention before anyone noticed her staring at Jason. All she needed was for Ciel to find her and start making idiotic comments.


    Lightara sat opposite her, next to General Phoenix. She had a watchful gaze, scanning the cadets as if studying them. Ember found herself smiling.


    "General, what is the purpose of this mission?" Armand asked, a cadet with a square jaw and close-cropped blond hair.


    Phoenix revived right away. He thrived on the attention of his cadets, so Lightara always said with a half snort. "Remember the weapon we found from the Ysnians?"


    "The one in the ruins?" Oscar asked, a dark-skinned cadet. Originally from the Alyandra Islands, he was more muscular than the Valestrians. Over time, Ember had noticed Ciel whistling around him. Oscar had to be the boy from the woods, the one Ciel had decided to avoid since that day because she was too embarrassed.


    When she had shared the theory with Viola, Viola had agreed.


    "The one I found, yes," Mark said in triumph.


    Lightara rolled her eyes. Ember bit her lip to hold back a smile. When the Sergeant met her gaze, she shook her head in silent reproach; it would have been more effective had it not been for the hint of a smile on her face.


    Phoenix slapped his palms on his knees. "Exactly that. Well, after much experimentation, we''ve figured out what its function is and how to use it."


    Ciel, sitting between Ember and Viola, crossed her legs. "And what would that be, General?"


    Phoenix raised his finger, his lips parted, ready to speak. But seconds passed, and he seemed frozen in that fragment of time. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Ferun, your turn."


    Lightara raised her fingers to her forehead. "Don''t tell me you forgot again."


    "I haven''t forgotten. It''s just that it''s one thing to know and another to explain. You know I''m not the explaining type. I''m an action hero, you know." He winked at his subordinates.


    The cadets laughed. Ember merely smiled, but her attention was drawn more to Lightara''s exasperated expression. She could almost hear her complaining in a grumpy tone about her colleague''s lack of seriousness.


    "Niaran, the Ysnian city also known as ''the city of two worlds,'' is almost entirely ours." Lightara''s voice rang out, deep and calm, bringing an atmosphere of attention. Ember noticed a holographic map of the city scrolling across the main table. "Our mission today is a takeover: we need to clear out the last remaining Ysnian machines and make sure there are no enemy soldiers lurking. Magic receivers have already been placed around, apparently needed for the new weapon to work."


    Ember listened in silence. Ciel nudged her elbow to get her attention; she said nothing, just gave a mischievous smile.


    Ember turned the back of her head the other way to hide the blush on her cheeks; Ciel enjoyed catching her ''heart-eyed staring at the Sergeant'' every time. Something that was happening more and more, unfortunately.


    Hope Lightara didn''t notice or you''re in trouble.


    Of course she noticed. You look like a mullet in love every time you look at her.


    "The main purpose," the Sergeant continued, "is to test the weapon and clear the city of enemies. The provisional name of the weapon is Destroyer," and here she turned to cast a fierce look at Phoenix, who chuckled.


    "My bad. It sounded like a tough name to me."


    Lightara made no comment. "The Destroyer is a device that combines mechanics with ancient Ysnian magic. It is capable of creating fields that slow down enemy movement, thanks to receivers placed around the city. If it works, defeating the last machines should be a piece of cake."


    "And it''s all thanks to me!" Mark puffed out his chest. He was like a peacock, always ready to turn on his ass and show off the wide variety of colors in his tail. Too bad he only made a fool of himself.


    The rest of the journey was uneventful. Ember kept quiet most of the time. She would occasionally intervene in the skirmishes between Ciel and Viola - Ember had quickly learned to play the role of the middle, the glue that tried to appease the two warring parties without taking sides. Most of all, she often sought Lightara''s attention, even if unconsciously. And when the Sergeant addressed her with a stunted half-smile or a nod, Ember''s heart took flight.


    When the airship landed, with a din that drowned out all other noise, they all rose from their seats to retrieve their weapons and stream out.


    The city of Niaran was built on the side of a mountain range. From the beginning, Ember had been enchanted by the tall, slender iron towers that stood in the center of the city; azure gleams adorned their facades. Huge eyes watched the citizens, ready to judge or strike. They reminded her of the Vylian. Suspended bridges connected the towers, almost creating a floating world of its own.


    Signs of war, however, were not lacking. Some buildings were collapsed or damaged. Plumes of smoke rose from one point. Ember leaned out of a balustrade of rock and iron. Niaran''s main square was huge, square-shaped, at the lowest point of the city. Smoke came from there.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Lightara rested her hands on the balustrade beside her. "This should be an easy mission," she said in a low voice. She pointed the deep blue of her eyes at Ember. "But be careful. Always be ready to contact me if anything happens," she pointed to the bracelet on the girl''s wrist, "and keep an eye on Jason."


    "Do you still think he could be dangerous?"


    "I don''t know, but if in doubt, be careful."


    The rest of the cadets gathered near a large machine. It looked like a coil encased in a glass capsule. It was turned off. Phoenix and a private whose name Ember didn''t know caught everyone''s attention with a show of hands. Lightara joined them, while Ember slipped among her comrades. Ciel and Viola greeted her with a hand on her back as soon as they saw her approach.


    The soldier had an ugly scar running down the left side of his head. No hair grew there anymore. In his hands he held a small mechanical device that shone a blue light like the ones on the towers.


    "So this little guy is the Destroyer," Phoenix said. He patted the soldier on the shoulder. "Yirul, what''s the situation here?"


    "We have eliminated most of the threats, sir. Only the last few machines remain, mostly scattered in the underground labyrinths." The soldier paused before continuing. "The only real threat is the Kravyrian."


    "The what?" muttered Ciel.


    "I have no idea, but the name doesn''t sound friendly," Viola replied.


    "I''m pretty sure that name is code for ''you''re going to get your ass kicked,''" Ember said. The other two giggled.


    Phoenix nodded, a hand on his chin. "That shouldn''t be a problem. With the Destroyer, it should be a little lamb, right?"


    The soldier shrugged. He had the air of someone who had long since lost the energy to show emotion. Would Ember and all the others be like that? "In theory."


    "No more wasting time then."


    At Phoenix''s command, Yirul turned his back on the cadets and faced the square. He pressed something on the Destroyer, some keys, and let the beep of each interaction ring through the air. When the object began to vibrate strongly, Yirul gripped it more tightly.


    A few moments later, the coil inside the glass began to pulsate. A living, blue energy drove it. The coil began to spin on itself, suspended in the glass. Ember felt a wave of heat wash over her bones.


    "Theoretically, the machines should be weaker now," Yirul said.


    "Is that all?" Ciel scratched the back of her head. "And I was hoping for some more fireworks or something."


    Viola patted her head to shut her up. Ember just smiled.


    They waited a few seconds while Yirul talked to someone through a bracelet. It was like Ember''s and Lightara''s. Ember turned her attention to the gray sky. Although it was still daylight, the sun was hidden behind a thick layer of clouds.


    Yirul turned to mutter something to the General. Lightara brought her head closer to eavesdrop. Ember and the cadets stood motionless, waiting to understand what was happening.


    Their time had come, had it not?


    "What do you mean the machines have become more aggressive?" Phoenix blurted out.


    A hubbub of voices immediately arose. The cadets muttered to each other. Armand went pale while Mark clenched his fists at his sides. Jason seemed impassive, only lowering his gaze to his hand, as if looking for an explanation in his own palm. Ciel and Viola went crazy, tugging at each other''s arms, their eyes shining with fear.


    Ember ignored them as they tried to call out to her. She kept her gaze locked with Lightara''s.


    They spoke to each other without words.


    There was the rumble of thunder without lightning. It was enough to silence the cadets. Yirul looked up just as another thunderclap ripped through the air.


    And then the roar turned into a deafening din. A huge skein of metal approached. Spikes appeared first, black silhouettes against the gray sky. A promise of pain and agony. Clouds of smoke accompanied a huge mass of iron, two bright red dots piercing the mist. Two mechanical eyes, watching for prey.


    Despite its size, the monster was quick. It charged at them before anyone had time to realize what was happening. Ember felt her muscles tense and her heart pound in her temples as she came face to face with the gaping jaws of that machine: the substitute of a mouth, with metal fangs big enough to crush a train car.


    "What the fuck is that?"


    "Help, we''re dead!"


    "Move!"


    The cadets yelled in panic. Ember felt Ciel and Viola grab her by the shoulders and drag her away.


    A low hiss went through the machine. The first shot went off. The roar shook the ground. Oscar fell to the ground. Armand tried to grab his arm and pull him up. He managed to push Oscar up at the last second, but an iron spike landed before Armand could get out of the way.


    It crushed him underneath. A splash of blood reached Ember''s shoes. The rest of Armand was scattered among splatters and pieces of mangled brains or fingers.


    All hell broke loose.


    The other cadets screamed, breaking ranks to run for cover. Lightara and Phoenix drew their swords and stood shield-like in front of the metal creature.


    "The Kravyrian," Phoenix hissed through clenched teeth. "Shouldn''t it have been weakened?"


    "It was a trap," Lightara said.


    The Ysnians had wanted them to find the Destroyer. They had led the Valestrian army to believe that its function was to weaken the magic that drove the machines, when its true effect was the opposite. It was making them stronger and more aggressive.


    But how had the Valestrians switched the two functions?


    Ember searched for the figure of Jason. She found him crouched behind a crate of supplies, along with Mark.


    The Kravyrian moved, its armored wheels squeaking on the ground. It let out a mighty yell, and thunder ripped through the sky.


    "We have to retreat!" Lightara shouted. "It''s too dangerous for the cadets."


    Phoenix shook his head. "There is no need. You and I will take care of the behemoth." He turned to the cadets. "You guys do a search of the city for magical receivers and destroy them!"


    He''s crazy.


    Ember drew her sword and rolled the metal cube between her fingers. Lumen awoke with a hum of wings.


    The others prepared to follow orders. No one dared look at the spike anchored in the ground, surrounded by Armand''s blood. All that remained of their comrade were scattered fragments. Any of them could have met the same end.


    You will die next.


    The Kravyrian moved again. It shot three spikes from its back. But instead of falling to the ground, they flew towards the buildings around them. They exploded in a cloud of dust. The debris came down in a concentrated avalanche.


    But the explosion had not been random.


    Lightara and Phoenix were caught in the middle. They both raised their electromagnetic shields, but the debris dragged them over the balustrade. Down, down, toward the plaza and beyond.


    Ember ran to the edge of the road. "Sarge!" her cry rang out in unison with Mark''s, calling for the General. She felt tears fill her eyes, blurring her vision.


    Please. Please tell me they are alive.


    But she couldn''t wait for a sign.


    The Kravyrian thundered again, ready to strike. Ember clutched the hilt of her sword so hard it hurt. She didn''t care. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and whispered, "Sarge, are you there?" near her bracelet. She got no answer.


    They were alone.


    Mark screamed, his face turning purple. He drew his sword in front of him. "Bring it on, you son of a bitch!"


    Despite her hatred for him, Ember recognized in him an uncommon tenacity and courage. She closed her eyes for a moment, silently praying that Lightara would be all right. Then she flanked Mark.


    They were alone. But they were not going to give up.

 Chapter 22

    The whole city held its breath. The Kravyrian puffed smoke from its wide-open fangs. A creature as alive as it was angry. The cadets hid behind crates and walls of half-collapsed buildings. Even Yirul had disappeared who knows where.


    Only Mark, with his sword in hand, charged at the enemy in a desperate cry. He brought the blade down on one of the massive metal legs that anchored the Kravyrian to the ground; there was a small burst of electromagnetic energy when the weapon struck the enemy, but the recoil forced Mark to step back. The machine had not taken any damage. It didn¡¯t even seem to notice anything.


    Ember gripped the hilt more tightly. The bracelet was a silent weight on her wrist. Dust and smoke burned her eyes, making each breath feel labored.


    The Kravyrian moved again. This time, it didn¡¯t slide across the ground on its wheels. It lifted its two massive front legs and slammed them to the ground. It emitted a metallic roar as loud as thunder. The city trembled. Ember leaned against the railing behind her, but it crumbled under her fingers.


    Some of the crates protecting the other cadets exploded in a shower of splinters. The cadets were without cover. Viola and Ciel lifted their heads, their giant, bulging eyes; they held hands. Oscar cried in a corner, while Alicia patted him on the back, trying to get him to move. Jason was the only one who stood up, his fists clenched and his jaw tight, a bundle of tensed muscles.


    They were all afraid.


    What do you hope to do alone? You''re all screwed.


    You¡¯d be better off running and finding shelter.


    Ember shook her head to push those thoughts away. She couldn¡¯t panic. It wouldn¡¯t help.


    The dust still lingered in the air, surrounding the Kravyrian in a cloud. The machine moved again, each stomp against the ground shaking the entire city. It slammed a blow into Mark, who shielded himself behind the electromagnetic shield, but let out a grunt as he slid backward. He slammed into what was left of the railing. It crumbled. He waved his free hand, trying to grab onto something to avoid falling.


    Let him fall.


    Ember hesitated for a fraction of a second. It would have been so easy. But his screams pierced her ears. Like a claw, his voice gripped her heart and began to scratch.


    Ember grabbed him by the arm. She felt Mark stiffen, his wide eyes staring at her. She pulled him up with a grunt.


    He didn¡¯t even thank her, not that she expected anything different. With a scornful growl, Mark charged again. A fool with no strategy, what did he hope to do against a machine the size of the Kravyrian?


    Oscar had stopped crying by now; sword tightly gripped in hand and jaw clenched, he watched every enemy movement. Bloodstains decorated the front of his uniform. Jason did the same beside him. They seemed to be waiting for something. Courage, perhaps. Or maybe just a glimmer of hope.


    The light from the spinning coil in the glass made them look like ghosts. Like a vision of the future showing what they would soon become.


    The coil.


    Phoenix had ordered them to destroy all the magic receivers. It wouldn¡¯t be a solution, but perhaps it could be a start. Maybe this would weaken the metal monster.


    The Kravyrian let out another one of its roars, then lunged forward. It smashed through everything in its path. The remains of the crates flew in every direction. Viola and Ciel moved in time, throwing themselves aside; they rolled on the ground and got up, coughing. Alicia, however, froze. The Kravyrian bore down on her with its massive bulk, not even slowing down.


    Someone screamed her name. A tear in the air.


    Then the sound of flesh and bones crushed under metal. Ember covered one ear with her free hand. Hot tears streaked down her cheeks.


    Alicia was gone. In her place was only a dark stain. She had been a person, and now she was nothing but a mush. Ember breathed almost laboriously, every breath becoming heavier.


    It could be you.


    A thought slipped through the cracks of her rationality. It gave her the image of herself, eyes wide and lips parted, calling Lightara¡¯s name just before the Kravyrian ran her over. And then, Lightara herself became that stain on the ground.


    Nothing but a stain.


    No. Stop it, she¡¯s still alive. She has to be.


    The sound of the machine¡¯s screeching metal brought her back to the present. Ember bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted the metallic flavor of blood. They had to move, or they would all end up the same way.


    Mark kept attacking without a plan, howling as though possessed.


    Ember hated him. She hated him because, even in this mess of a situation, he was the only one who dared to find the courage to move. The only one with the strength to fight, to try, to resist.


    Another stomp made the ground vibrate. It reminded her that there was no time for hesitation.


    Focus.


    The first step was the hardest. Her legs didn¡¯t want to move, her feet stuck to the ground. Ember gritted her teeth and, finally, there it was, the first step. Then the second. The third. And before she realized it, she was running toward the magic receiver.


    The shrill screech of the metal grew sharper. Ember looked up just in time to see one of the spikes fly off the monstrous machine¡¯s body. ¡°Shit!¡± she muttered, flipping sideways. The projectile slammed next to her in an explosion and a rain of dust.


    Ember got back up, coughing. She kept running. She could feel her comrades¡¯ confused gazes on her.


    Don¡¯t think about them. Not now. Focus on your target.


    It was Lightara¡¯s voice guiding her. It felt like she could hear her, inside her.


    More shots exploded. Ember narrowly avoided them. Until she reached the magic receiver and raised her sword. In one fluid motion, without breaking her run, she slashed through the glass and the coil inside. Warm energy surged from within. The glass shattered, and the magic inside expanded into a glowing blue mass.


    It imploded in a flash. The shockwave sent Ember flying through the air. She landed on the ground, still vibrating from the impact. Her ears were ringing, the sounds distant and indistinguishable. She stood up with a grunt of pain, her knees trembling. The Kravyrian was still there, roaring through the plumes of smoke rising from the crater where the magic receiver had been.


    It moved again, stomping its legs to the ground. But it was slower, as if it had suddenly remembered the weight that came with such enormous size.


    The others noticed too. One by one, they found the strength to act. Oscar was the first, mimicking Mark by charging at one of the metal legs. Then it was Jason¡¯s turn. Ciel and other archers launched arrows that exploded with electromagnetic energy when they hit their target. Viola threw a cloud of debris at the machine¡¯s gaping jaws.


    The Kravyrian struggled to move, but it didn¡¯t give up. It launched another couple of spikes. The archers were forced to stop shooting to avoid being crushed. Some swords were thrown away with a push of its legs.


    It¡¯s still not enough. We¡¯re just tickling it.


    They needed to find the weak point of that mass of metal. Or a strategy that could cause enough damage to stop such a massive machine.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Ember looked up at the sky. Lumen was flying above the smoke and dust, a little iron dragonfly buzzing high. Maybe it was a vain hope, but she had to try. She ordered it to fly through the remains of the city while she hid behind the remnants of a crate. She leaned against it, panting and coughing. Instead of a holographic map, the images from Lumen¡¯s recordings appeared before her.


    Ember squinted as a small holographic representation of the main square appeared before her. It was a crater of destruction, where the remains of Ysnian machines lay scattered around. Some of the buildings around the square were still intact, but most had collapsed into giant, fallen forms, leaving exposed skeletons of beams and pipes. Blue sparks flew from tangles of hanging cables.


    Lumen moved a bit further, as the rumblings of the Kravyrian deafened Ember. It was then that the drone¡¯s images captured something interesting: a tangle of flashing cables and pipes hanging from a semi-collapsed tower. They swayed lazily, like snakes waiting. They ended in large connectors flashing with blue energy.


    Whatever their original purpose, they were still active.


    Close by, just a few meters from the tower¡¯s base, Lumen showed her a large crater full of metal remains and conductive materials.


    Ember bit her lip. A plan as crazy as it was risky flashed into her mind. She stood up, her body creaking with pain.


    She couldn¡¯t do it alone. She stepped out from her hiding place, her ears still ringing from the explosion and the clamor of battle. She looked for Ciel and Viola before anyone else, the blood pumping anxiety through her veins. She relaxed slightly when she saw them far from the Kravyrian, shooting arrows and debris from the battlefield. Oscar was attacking fiercely, along with other cadets blinded by rage and desperation; Jason played a more cautious dance, only bringing down his sword to regain distance; Mark kept shouting and striking, but he was losing speed.


    He was starting to tire. Yet, he didn¡¯t give up.


    Ember hated seeing that determination, which, as foolish as it was, made him such a brave soldier. Phoenix''s prot¨¦g¨¦ showed all his worth.


    It¡¯s your turn. For Lightara.


    She reached Ciel and Viola, with her shield raised to protect herself from any sudden attacks. "I have a plan!" she shouted, trying to overpower the chaos of the battle.


    Viola was the first to stop, her hands raised, her gloved fingers spread to command a shower of stones. "A plan?"


    Ciel shot one last arrow before turning her attention to Ember. "Emby, if you get us out of this mess, I swear I''ll shower you with kisses."


    "Eh?" Ember shook her head to clear the image away. "No, I hope... I hope it works. But I need everyone¡¯s help."


    The Kravyrian launched another spike. The archers scattered in a sea of screams. No one died this time.


    Viola cursed, her fists clenched. Stones and dust flew around her like a shield ready to explode. "What¡¯s this plan?"


    "We need to lure the Kravyrian into the main square," Ember said, raising her arm to point beyond the destroyed balustrade. "There¡¯s a tower full of cables. We can use the cables to trap the Kravyrian, but we need to bring it down first."


    "How do we make a tower fall?"


    "With electromagnetic arrows. If we target the right joints, it should be enough." Or so she hoped. There were no certainties. "But we need the Kravyrian to be near the base of the tower when it falls."


    "It¡¯s suicide," Viola commented flatly. The next moment, she threw a half-smile at the other two. "But at least it¡¯s a plan."


    Ember nodded. "You need to help me convince the others to cooperate. I... doubt they¡¯ll listen to me." She turned toward Mark, watching his face twisted in a sharp expression of despair. He kept striking and striking, even though the only effect was annoying the giant machine.


    "I¡¯ll take care of warning the other archers," Ciel said, before heading toward the other cadets armed with bows.


    Viola let out a deep sigh. "Looks like it¡¯s up to us to convince the blockheads."


    "Any ideas?" Ember asked.


    "As much as I hate to admit it, we need to tell Mark the plan."


    A shitty idea. Ember would have preferred throwing herself over the railing and letting herself fall into the square instead. But if she wanted to survive, if she wanted to help her comrades, if she wanted to find Lightara... she had no choice. "I¡¯ll go," she said to Viola, pressing the button on her cloak¡¯s clasp. She closed her eyes, the image of Lightara in the woods flooding her mind; Ember followed the rhythm of her breath until she was sure it was steady.


    She moved quickly, slipping past the other cadets fighting without a clear strategy. In the chaos of bodies, weapons, and noises. Until she was behind Mark and grabbed his uniform to get him to stop.


    "What the hell?" He rebelled, twisting away. Ember let go of her grip, and he nearly fell on his backside. She had to suppress a smile.


    "Mark, I have a plan." She deactivated the cloak.


    Mark widened his eyes, as though he couldn¡¯t believe what was in front of him. "I don¡¯t give a damn about your plans, nerd."


    He¡¯ll never follow you. No matter how much you insist. Get over it.


    Meanwhile, Ciel led the archers down a winding path toward the square. They ran in a line, following Ciel¡¯s orders as if they trusted her blindly. Or maybe they were just too terrified to refuse. After all, they didn¡¯t have many other chances of surviving.


    "Where are those cowards going?" Mark snapped.


    Ember tightened her grip on the sword¡¯s hilt. Assert yourself, damn it. "We need to lure the Kravyrian to the square. There¡¯s a tower there, and we can¡ª"


    "Lure it to the square? You want to die, Leroy?"


    "The girl¡¯s right." A male voice silenced him. Yirul reappeared from nowhere, an electromagnetic energy armor wrapping him in a constant hum. "Using the terrain is our only chance. This beast won¡¯t go down with a couple of sword strikes."


    Mark didn¡¯t respond at first. Ember watched him tremble, his jaw clenched, his posture rigid. Until he screamed with the fury of an animal, raising his sword above his head. "Let¡¯s lure it down! Follow me!" He cast a cold look at Ember before rushing forward to follow the archers.


    Jason, Oscar, and all the others went after him without hesitation. Ember and Yirul did the same, while the Kravyrian howled with its metallic voice and slid its wheels along the road.


    It was slower than before. Impossible to tell if it was the result of the destroyed magic receiver or the numerous strikes that had damaged its armor.


    "Under that tower!" Ember pointed to the target for Yirul, who nodded and took charge of the operation. He commanded the cadets to attack the machine to draw it in the right direction. Ember joined them, throwing stones and debris to distract the monster. Viola, on the other side, was doing the same.


    The Kravyrian moved toward the base of the tower, sweeping everything in its path, turning the remains of smaller Ysnian machines into metal sludge.


    "Now!" Yirul shouted.


    The archers shot their arrows. The darts whistled through the air, hitting the upper joints of the tower, where the structure was more fragile. The tower trembled, but stayed upright. Resilient.


    "We need more power!" Ciel yelled.


    Ember searched the joints with her gaze. Think, think. How could she increase the power in a short time?


    "Vi! Can you use your gloves to boost the arrows'' strength?"


    Viola kept running and looked at her hands for a couple of seconds. "I can try."


    They had to make it work.


    When the archers shot again, Viola pointed both palms to the sky. The arrows slowed for a fraction of a second, then shot toward the tower with renewed fury. The structure groaned and began to collapse, the roar masking the sounds of the Kravyrian.


    "Back!"


    "Move!"


    "Help!"


    The cadets¡¯ cries were muffled by the din. Ember threw herself to the ground as the tower fell onto the Kravyrian. A boom shook the square. Dust and debris lifted into the air.


    Only when the air cleared did Ember dare to get up and see the result. The cables had wrapped around the Kravyrian¡¯s legs and massive body. They climbed over it like tendrils, holding it in place.


    But it wasn¡¯t over yet.


    Ember grabbed the ends of some cables and pulled them toward the crater full of conductive debris. She didn¡¯t need to explain what she was doing; the others understood. Before Yirul could shout the command, Jason had already started to imitate her, followed by Viola and Oscar. With desperate coordination, they worked together to create a lethal circuit, while Ciel and the other archers kept the Kravyrian at bay with their arrows.


    It was Mark who pushed the connector and completed the circuit.


    There was a crackle, then a blinding light. The cadets ran off, keeping their distance. The energy discharged into the crater, rising with a devastating shockwave across the Kravyrian¡¯s body.


    The monster¡¯s final roar was the worst. A metallic wail that vibrated in the air for a long time.


    Then came the silence. The Kravyrian no longer moved, its red eyes extinguished. The whistle of the wind blew through the still-standing buildings. Lumen buzzed slightly higher, watching over that eerily quiet scene.


    The cadets didn¡¯t have the strength to celebrate. They all stood there, staring at the remains of the machine that had erased two of their comrades from existence.


    Ember felt the heat of tears rise to her eyes. She wiped them away before they could fall down her cheeks. She had made it. She had done something to save her comrades, with everyone¡¯s help. And yet, victory, she realized, didn¡¯t have the triumphant sound of fanfares.


    Victory had the bitter taste of blood.