The noise and smell of the mess hall hit El like a slap to the face as she crossed the threshold. Dozens of large tables, each with seating for twenty or more, sat in rigid efficiency down the length of the room. The perfect line of the tables, of how precisely they were spaced, always brought a measure of calm to El in the chaos of the room. It helped they were nailed down.

The entire eastern wall was a collection of self-sufficient cafeterias, individual queues stretching anywhere from empty to jam-packed. A thousand voices mingled together to create a dull roar, and it took El several steps to tune it out while searching for her wing.

If they held true to form, El would find them at table “BA”, for “Burning Awesome” they said. A smidge of pride flared in El’s chest, near the place the Spark made its home, at her wing. They may have been a bit full of themselves, and overly vocal about it, but it was well-earned. When it came to rookies, there wasn’t a group better.

But before she got to them, she needed something to eat. Laze was, like everything else it seemed, right about that.

A brief stint in line later, El had a hefty sandwich under her arm. Burn it, why had it taken so long to get the sandwich artist to understand that she wanted exactly six tomato slices on each half? Was that so hard to understand? It wouldn’t be balanced if one side had five while the other…

“Corporal, my dear, over here,” a lanky solider interrupted her thoughts from the bench he stood on. Even without the bench, Teth was tall. With the extra lift, he towered over an already petite El.

“Get down from there,” El said with a frown. “We’d be the laughingstock of the Firestorm if one of our flyers broke his neck from a fall so close to the ground.”

“Teth’s neck is never anywhere near the ground,” the woman beside him volunteered. Nidina, Teth’s twin sister. Only the length of their hair told them apart. “Unless you count in his ass as ‘close to the ground.’”

“Oh sister-mine, your words they sting. Like a bumbling-bee, newly taken wing,” Teth said eloquently, one hand on his chest, the other held delicately in the air. Bad poetry was his hobby, but at least it was good for a laugh.

“You’re not down yet,” El pointed out. Then pointed at the ground. Twice.

“Corporal maternal, to your words I hop, this show I’ll stop.”

El shook her head, but at least Teth got down.

“Faled already told us, if you’re here about the deployment change,” Nidina said, her eyes never leaving the soup in front of her.

El settled down across the table from the twins, Dayne on her right. Baby-faced, but almost as beefy as Cannon, he was the wing’s frontline muscle.

“Hey, Dayne,” El greeted before addressing Nidina’s statement. Dayne just nodded and mechanically pushed another biscuit into his mouth. Quiet guy. Dependable though. “I figured he would have,” El told Nidina, and unwrapped her sandwich. One of the tomatoes had fallen off. She almost got up and went back to throttle the sandwich artist. Almost.

“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to do all the running around while he sits down and eats a sammich?” Nidina asked.

“I’m no match for his eagerness,” El said truthfully, carefully placing the tomato exactly back where it needed to be. Six slices on each side; she could breathe again. “Besides, he loves it. Who am I to take that away from him?”

“In glory’s task does that one bask,” Teth agreed.

El looked at Nidina, then back to Teth. “Right,” she said, and took a bite from her sandwich. Tomato issue aside, it was burning good.

“Esis’s unit is coming with us? And something about a guide?” Nidina pried.

El looked at the people all around. How confidential were the orders? Or the existence of the two lizard armies? Probably best not to talk about it there. “I can’t get into details here,” El said, her eyes pointing out the people all around while her hands brought the sandwich back to her mouth.

It stopped halfway, her mouth open wide, as her eyes landed on a soldier that looked familiar. But she didn’t recognize him. Shaved head, the dark stubble barely visible, angular cheekbones, and a uniform that looked two sizes too big. Maybe he lost weight recently?

When an older woman with wild, white hair sat down beside him, the answer clicked in El’s mind. The refugee soldier from the map room. He’d obviously gotten a haircut and borrowed a uniform.

“Something the matter?” Dayne asked beside her. “Never seen you stop eating. Ever.” His words came out slowly, deliberately. Dayne’s size had taught him to be careful and sure before he acted. Or spoke.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

El lowered the sandwich down and placed it back on the wrapper.

“Burn it, we in for a fight?” Nidina said and stood, eyes scanning the crowd for a threat.

“It’s fine, Nidina, sit down,” El said quietly, her brain still assessing the refugee two tables over.

“Fine? The last time you put food down we got jumped by two other wings who didn’t like one of my brother’s rhymes,” Nidina said, but her shoulders relaxed.

“I speak no lies, and about that lass, when it comes to size, I crown her ass.”

“We deserved to get jumped.” Nidina sighed, but sat back down. “But if it’s not that, what’s got you on edge?”

“That’s our guide over there,” El said, and nodded at Oril. He met her eyes, then scowled and went back to his meal.

“Seems the friendly type,” Dayne commented.

Her lunch would have to wait, and El stood. “I’ve got some questions for him.”

“Need backup?” Dayne asked.

“I’ve got this. Keep my sandwich safe.”

Dayne saluted, then slid the sandwich over in front of him, his eyes scanning the crowd for threats. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

Her dinner secure, El crossed the mess hall to where Oril and Wild-Hair sat mostly alone. That would make it easier for El; she wouldn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing her questions.

“Corporal Mance.” El gave a small salute.

“What?” he asked without looking up. Not an appropriate way to address a soldier of equal rank, but he’d been away. She could ignore it. For now.

“I have questions about our assignment.”

“I’m busy.”

“Don’t be like that, Oril. The young lady is trying to be nice,” Wild-Hair said, putting her hand on Oril’s forearm.

“We don’t need young, and we most certainly don’t need nice,” he snapped, and turned his glare on El. “Have you ever even been in a fight? A real one? Have you ever killed? Felt the hot blood of your opponent gush over your sword and onto your hands? Spent the day wading through the enemy, leaving corpses in your wake?

“Well, have you?” he barked.

“I haven’t,” she admitted, her attention focusing on a piece of spinach in his teeth. Every time he spat out another question, the greenery waved like a flag in the wind. “But my wing is at the top of the academy for the year. We’re not…”

“Not what?” he interrupted. “Not green rookies? Not a liability? Not a burning waste of my time when I need real soldiers to take my home back? My family?!” Every word increased in volume until he was yelling loud enough for the nearby tables to fall silent. The spinach-flag waved its absolute surrender the entire time.

He’d drawn too much attention. El wouldn’t be able to ask her questions without risking the confidentiality of the assignment. “You’re obviously upset…” El began.

“Upset? You think this is upset?” Oril yelled and stood. Then he stepped in so close the spinach-leaf would slap her across the face if he yelled again. Instead, however, his voice was low and threatening. “You burning, useless bitch. You have no idea what upset is. But you will if your incompetence hurts my family.”

Before El could open her mouth to respond, Oril spun on his heel and grabbed the half-eaten loaf of bread from the table, then stormed off without another word.

El and Wild-Hair watched him go, but neither moved to stop him.

“I’m sorry,” Wild-Hair said calmly. “He’s always been like that. Janith calmed him down a bit, but with her in trouble, I’m afraid his worst side is coming out again.”

“Not your fault,” El said when Oril disappeared into the crowd. “May I sit?”

“Of course, of course,” Wild-Hair said and pointed to where Oril had sat. “You said you have questions? Can I help with those?”

“I hope so,” El admitted. “Before that, my name is Anella, but everybody calls me El.”

“Nice to meet you El, I’m Lilin.”

“Lilin, that’s a nice name. Not common…”

“Oh, it used to be,” Lilin beamed. “But that was years ago, and not so much in the capital. People think it’s a bit of a hick name.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” El said.

“Are your questions so difficult you feel the need to butter an old lady up?” Lilin asked, her lips quirking playfully.

El hesitated, then nodded. “They may be. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Ah,” Lilin said, the smile vanishing. “I should have guessed. I… saw you in that… that room with the big map, didn’t I? I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you sooner. It was all a bit overwhelming…”

“No offense taken,” El said, shifting the leftover dishes in front of her. Plate in the middle, fork one inch to the right, knife one inch to the left. Water glass three hundred and fifteen degrees, exactly, two inches from the knife, forty-five degrees and two inches from the fork. Perfect. She took a relaxed breath and turned her attention back to Lilin. “But if my wing and I are going there, I’d like to know as much as I can.”

“What did you want to know? I’ll answer what I can.”

“When did it happen?” El asked. It had to be recent. A few days? Maybe a week?

“About four months ago,” Lilin said. “That’s part of the reason Oril is so angry.”

“Four… months?” El asked, trying to wrap her brain around it.

“It takes a long time to walk four thousand miles, and you can understand why I’m so tired, even with my Spark. We got the occasional wagon ride, but the lands outside the capital are almost empty. We didn’t see a single member of the Firestorm until we reached the city itself.”

“Oril was military though. I thought he took his wings with him when he left.”

“Maybe?” Lilin shrugged. “But he didn’t have them when we found him. And by the time he woke up, we were too far away to go back for them. Even if we did… there were too many lizards…” she trailed off.

“When you found him?” El asked. She had several questions, but she needed to start somewhere.

“Yes, Sol and I found him unconscious on the road outside of town. Took a bad blow to the head from the looks of things. Sol patched him up pretty good though and carried him on his back until Oril woke up. That was… maybe… three days later?

“Oril wanted to go back. For his wife and son? For his wings and his sword? I’m not sure, but he wouldn’t leave me alone with Sol. So, he came with us to Balacin to warn the army. Or maybe to get the army?”

“Sol?” El asked. Numb-Eyes?

Lilin pointed to the absolute corner of the room where the third refugee sat alone. “That’s Sol,” Lilin said. “Oril hates him, even though he saved his life. Maybe because he saved his life, so I guess he didn’t want to sit with us. It’s a shame. Sol’s a good man, despite his limitations.”

“Why does Oril hate him? Limitations?”

Lilin leaned in close, her voice barely a whisper. “The answer’s the same to both those questions. Sol is Sparkless.”