El’s hands shook at her sides as she walked the dark, lonely halls, boots clacking on the stone floor with every step. What the Blaze just happened? How’d the Cardinal do that with Cannon’s Spark? Had he really controlled it with a look? And made it burn one of the most physically powerful men in the country?

She looked down and stared at the flesh on the back of her hands, her mind playing out the flames rolling across them, bubbling and boiling the flesh. Scorching the muscle beneath. Blackening the bones.

The smell still lingered in her nose, like a barbeque, until her brain reminded her what was being cooked.

El quickstepped to the side of the hall to throw open a window, leaned out, then dry heaved what little remained in her stomach. There wasn’t much after what she’d seen.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve, she stood straight and rested her head against the wall. She should head back to her room. Get some sleep. She was deploying in a few hours, after all. But, she wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not yet. Not after that.

Her whole body shook, but nervous energy coursed through her veins. She needed to calm down. Clear her mind. She could go find Laze, maybe talk about what’d happened. No, it was late. They could talk tomorrow. What then?

Well, there was always one thing that made her feel better. El’s eyes caught the remnants of her dry heaving on the windowsill. Okay, two things, and she wouldn’t be able to eat again for a while. Instead, she shuffled down the hall, hands rubbing her arms to push aside an unfamiliar chill.

Had she ever been afraid of the Spark? No. It was a part of her. A huge part of her. A friend. A weapon. An identity.

But if Scin could use it against her like that, she needed to be more careful. What was it Lhogan had said? She’d need to prove herself. Maybe he was more right than either of them had realized. It might not just be her career on the line, but also her life.

El rounded the corner into the sparring room and paused at the entrance when it wasn’t empty.

“Sol? What are you doing here at this hour?” El asked the man scrubbing the floor. Still scrubbing? Or again?

“Floors don’t clean themselves,” he said without looking up.

“Do you… mind if I come in?” El asked. Wait, why was she asking? This was a public space! Still, her feet didn’t move.

Sol’s hands stopped, and he lifted his head to look at her. “Of course,” he said, voice as flat as usual. “Do you have more questions?”

“No,” she said, and walked over to sit down cross-legged a few feet away from him. “Well, maybe yes, but a different kind of questions. Is that okay?”

Sol slowly gestured at the wide room with one hand. “I’m going to be here for a while, and I don’t mind the company. You’re the only one who talks to me.”

“I know that feeling,” El replied quietly.

“What was that?” Sol asked.

“Nothing,” El said quickly. “Sol, what do you think of the Spark? Do you think it’s dangerous?”

“Of course, it is,” he said without hesitation. “Don’t you think so too?”

El shook her head reflexively. “I… actually, I’m sorry, maybe it’s not fair to talk to you about this. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she said, and put her hands on the floor to push herself up.

“I already told you,” Sol interrupted her. “I don’t need your pity. Ask your questions.”

“Well,” El said, settling back down, “I’ve always had the Spark. It’s… strong in my family. Me and my brother both.”

“What about your parents?”

“Are you sure you’re okay to talk about this?” El asked.

Sol glanced up toward the ceiling, like he was looking right through it. “Do you think the moon is beautiful?” he asked in return.

“I never really thought about it,” she answered.

“On the quiet, clear nights, out on my boat, I would just sit and stare at the moon. Sometimes, the way it reflected in the water made it look like I was floating up in the sky with it. Like I could almost reach out and touch it.

“But, of course, I couldn’t. Just because I can’t touch the moon, can’t have it, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it for what it is. No, I will never have the Spark like you do. Not even the smallest part of it. But I can talk about it, if you want.”

“Thanks, Sol,” El said after a moment.

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“Your parents?” he prodded, then turned back to methodically scrubbing the floor with a thick rag.

“I don’t know for sure. They both died when I was young. Nexin, that’s my brother, he says they were strong too. They were also in the Firestorm, died on a mission, so I guess he has to be telling the truth.”

“Is there any reason he would lie?”

“Other than to make his little sister feel better about the parents she hardly knew? Probably not.”

“Then they were strong,” Sol said. “Like all parents need to be for their children. No matter what.”

“Do… do you have children, Sol?” She’d never thought to ask the question before. What if he left his family back in Salid when the lizards attacked?

“It would take somebody… special… to love a Sparkless,” Sol said. “I never met anybody like that in Salid.”

“I’m sorry,” El said.

“We were talking about your Spark,” Sol redirected.

“Right,” El said. Sol’s family, or lack of one, wasn’t her business. “It’s been such a part of my life for as long as I can remember. It’s central in the stories of my parents’ lives, and their deaths. My brother and I both have our careers because of it. It keeps us warm, powers our city, controls our weather, grows our crops…”

“But?” Sol asked when El trailed off.

“But,” El agreed.

“Did something happen?” Sol asked.

“Yes,” El said. “Now, I’m not sure what to think. Is the Spark our hope, like I was taught? Or, is it something else?”

“And you want my opinion?” Sol asked.

“I do. You might be the only person I can actually ask this.”

“The Spark is many things, as you said, but you left out its main purpose.”

El nodded. She had. “It’s a weapon,” she agreed.

Sol shook his head.

“Huh?” El asked.

Sol stopped scrubbing and shifted himself to face her, likewise sitting cross-legged. “Yes, it is also a weapon, as proven by this room, this building, this entire nation. The Spark has been used to kill, conquer, and raze entire countries. Joining the Firestorm is the dream of every young citizen, to soar through the skies and fight glorious battles.”

El nodded. He was right. Her entire childhood, El and Nexin had wanted nothing more than to fly on flaming wings. Even now, her “dream” was to lead the victory charge against Guld and crush them once and for all. “So, why did you shake your head?” she asked.

“Because being a weapon is not the Spark’s main role.”

“What is it, then?”

“A leash.”

“What? What the Blaze are you talking about?” she asked, sitting up straight, her fists clenching at her sides. But, something in the back of her head was nodding along with him.

“Why do you fight?” Sol asked. “Is it because the Spark is a weapon? You have the biggest stick, so you want to go around and hit other people with it?”

“Of course not,” El said, her hands relaxing. “We fight—”

“Because you enjoy it?”

El shook her head immediately. Yes, she enjoyed sparring. She enjoyed winning. But, that was just her competitive nature. Nobody got hurt, and they all had a good laugh after. It was time with her friends, and the chance to push herself harder. A chance for her to be better than she was the day before.

No, this was exactly the same as the conversation she’d had with Lhogan.

“We fight to gather the Embers,” she said. We fight for the Church. But, she kept that last part to herself.

“It’s a leash, a cycle, that’s lasted hundreds of years. The stronger your Sparks, the more you can conquer. The more you conquer, the more Embers you collect, which in turn increases the strength of your Sparks.

“You’re a slave to it,” Sol said.

El’s mind flashed back to Cannon, writhing in agony on the ground as his own Spark destroyed his arm. “More than you know,” she whispered.

“What’s that?” Sol asked.

“I…” El started.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here boys,” a voice called from behind her, and Sol turned his attention back to the floor.

El rolled her eyes, but stood and turned to face Oril. Recognition and surprise flashed across his face. He wasn’t talking about her?

“Oh, and the coward is here too? The coward and the freak are friends? That’s just perfect,” Oril said to the two Firestorm behind him.

Loaker and Bills. They were from Nexin’s class. Which meant they were also from Oril’s class.

“Can I help you, corporal?” El asked. No need to rise to his jibes.

Oril looked her up and down as he walked around her to stand over Sol. “You? Help me? I think you’ve proven to everybody that you’re just as useless as this Sparkless lump here,” Oril said, put his boot to Sol’s shoulder, then shoved the seated man.

El took a step closer, but a strong hand fell on each of her shoulders. She glanced to her sides to find Loaker and Bills flanking her, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. What did he tell them about me?

“Need I remind you, soldiers, that laying an unwanted hand on a superior officer is a punishable offense?” she asked them.

“Oh, come now,” Oril said, but nodded at the two men who released their grips on her. “You look a little tired. They were just worried you were going to fall over, so they offered their support,” he finished, and put his boot back on Sol’s shoulder.

“I’m sure,” El said. “And is that any way to treat the man who saved your life and carried you out of danger on his back?”

Oril’s eyes snapped down to glare daggers at Sol. “Is that what he told you?” Oril hissed, took his foot off Sol, then leaned down and wrapped his fists in the front of Sol’s shirt. “Is that what you told people, you worthless, Sparkless, waste of flesh?”

Flame armor shimmering and enhancing his strength, Oril easily lifted Sol up and off the floor, the other man’s feet dangling inches above the ground. “I asked you a question!” Oril shouted in Sol’s face.

Sol, for his part, didn’t even try to fight back. His arms hung listless at his side while his flat eyes seemingly gazed right through Oril. He might as well have been a doll.

And that only pissed Oril off more.

“Sparkless waste!” Oril shouted and spun, hurling Sol through the air to hit the ground with a grunt fifteen feet away and slide along the spotless floor. “Why did you get to live when they had to die?” Oril roared and stormed toward Sol, who struggled to get up.

Without the protection of the Flame armor…

“Oril, what are you…?” El started, but hands found their way to her shoulders again.

“You should’ve died back there,” Oril shouted and snapped his foot up, catching Sol in the ribs and lifting him off the ground to land another ten feet away.

Sol coughed and rolled onto his side, arms cradling his chest as he curled up.

“Should’ve died,” Oril hissed and pulled the electrum hilt from his belt, flaming blade extending at his side.

A weight settled on the room, like a tangible thing.

Sol’s blank eyes looked up to meet Oril’s hate-filled gaze.

Something terrible was about to happen, unless El did something to stop it. Which was exactly what Loaker and Bills were trying to prevent.

Too bad for them they were standing in the wrong spot.

El flared her wings to full power and launched forward, the hands on her shoulders vanishing, while Oril whipped his sword down at Sol’s neck.