I woke up in the middle of the night to emptiness beside me. Alicia was gone, a depression in our blankets where she was supposed to be. The space was cold. Just how long had she been gone? Yawning, I got out of bed and buttoned up my shirt. It was chilly. I raised my hand to illuminate our tent, warmth flowing from my chest and down my arm, shining from my palm to cast a golden glow over my surroundings. Besides our bed, the only things here were our bags. Mine was still packed, my few personal possessions stowed safely inside, and the pieces of my uniform scattered haphazardly on top. Hers lay open, packed neatly with books and letters from her family, her uniform folded and laid to rest beside it. Where could she be?

Wait. Her uniform? Why hadn’t she taken her uniform?

I called out for her with my mind. “Alicia?”

It took a while before I heard her response. “Iris? What are you doing up at this time of night?” Her voice was soft but clear, as if she were whispering in my ear.

“I could ask the same of you.”

“If you’re awake, then come out and meet me. I’m outside of camp.”

I unzipped the entrance to our tent and peered outside. It was snowing. The wind blew in gusts, whipping snow around in billowing swirls through the camp. “You’re outside in this weather? Without your uniform?”

Silence.

Then, after a few moments, she replied. “Ah. I am outside. That’s right. I might just be a bit lost. And cold. Do you mind coming out to get me?”

“You’re going to freeze to death like this.” I threw on my uniform, buckling my pants and buttoning my jacket up to my neck. Holding her own jacket and pants tight against my chest with one hand, I let the other shine like a searchlight, scanning the white all around for any sign of her. “Can you describe your surroundings?”

“Sure. Trees on the left. And the right. And ahead. And behind me... what a surprise. More trees.”

“You’re in the forest?”

She laughed. “Oops. Oh my, so dangerous. I might just die if you don’t find me in time.”

The snow was piled up to my knees, getting into my boots and chilling my toes. “You know, you aren’t fooling me one bit with this whole ‘I’m lost’ bit,” I said. “May I remind you who held the map the whole way here last night?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she teased.

The edge of the clearing rose up high ahead. I scrambled up the frosted twigs and leaves to reach the first trees rising high above the snowdrifts. Tall shadows stretched on as far as the eye could see, branches masking the way forward and cutting visibility almost as much as the snow swirling around me. Thankfully, however, the dense canopy would preserve Alicia’s footprints. I skirted the edge of the clearing, searching for her trail. Fresh prints in the snow wandered ahead into the forest, disappearing into the shadows. “Just how far in did you go?” I asked.

“Not too far. What, you’re gonna leave your partner alone in the cold?”

“I’m considering it.” She laughed in response. Because we both knew that I would never.

The soft blanket of white was punctuated with the thorny boughs of fallen silverleaf branches poking out of the snow. It was even darker here, thanks to the dense canopy of needles above me, but at least that provided a reprieve from the wind. Alicia’s footprints were clear and easy to follow now. I raised my hand and lit the way forward, keeping an eye out for any other prints in the snow. But, at least tonight, there were none to be found.

Finally, there she was, shivering at the base of a huge stump, a small travel bag nestled in the snow beside her. Her loose pyjama shirt and pants were wet from the snow and frozen stiff. The ten silver spheres of her Complement revolved around her like little moons. At least she hadn’t forgotten them. I almost tackled her with my hug, wrapping her in my arms and holding tight. Her body was nearly frozen. I let my heat flow freely from my heart down arms and hands to her, melting the remaining bits of ice and drying her clothes all at once. “What were you thinking?”

She turned and stared into my eyes. “I’m right here, Iris. I want to hear your voice.”

I let go and moved to sit by her side, dimming my hand to a gentle glow. “Fine. What were you thinking?” I said aloud. “You got up in the middle of the night and wandered off to who knows where... for what?” I draped her jacket over her shoulders.

Her lips curled into a smile. “Why does there need to be a reason? It’s nice and calm, and far from camp. A little alone time never hurts. We can just sit and enjoy the ambience.”

“I’d much rather be nice and calm in bed. Alicia, we’re in the Corruption! And it’s cold.”

“Oh sure, you’re the one complaining that it’s cold.” She squeezed my hand, instinctively releasing a rush of heat and light. “The Corruption,” she mused. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Don’t deny it. If it weren’t for the metal, for the scales, for Antares... you’d agree with me.”

I had to admit, it was warmer here than out in the clearing. Everything was still, and the forest had a sort of sterile beauty to it. Flowers poked out between the tangled roots, crinkled petals glowing softly in the darkness. Those scales scurried over every surface, glittering like diamonds where they caught the scraps of moonlight that passed through the thick canopy above.

But every shine and sparkle masked killing intent, from the thorns on the branches and the razor edges of the grass to the quiet, almost indiscernible metallic buzz that permeated everything. “That’s the thing, isn’t it,” I said. “Antares is here, and so this place is a perversion of what it should be. Everything is wrong. When the purification is done, perhaps, we’ll be able to enjoy the forest. Until then, we must stay on high guard.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “And you need to remember your jacket.”

“I didn’t forget, Iris. I knew that you’d come bring it for me.”

“Alicia!”

She smiled. “What? It’s true.”

“What about the danger?”

“Don’t you think that’s going a bit far?” She smiled, raising a hand and letting the steel marbles of her Complement circle her fingertip, lining up one by one and connecting in a line to wrap around her wrist. “There’s danger, yes, in the Excaeli. Maybe. But they’re nothing to people like you and me. Target practice. Really, you and I can handle ourselves against them just fine. There’s no need to cower in fear. For us, at least.”

“For us, at least.” A pang shot through my heart. “But not for them.” Not the pitiful soldiers that accompanied us, cowering at the first sign of trouble. Letting doubt come in and destroy what little semblance of discipline and strength that they had. “They have no blessing from Polaris, no training. Their light is weak, their hands shake. And they make mistakes.”

“They die,” whispered Alicia. “I know. You went with Jonathan to purify someone yesterday,” Alicia said.

“You saw?”

She nodded. “It’s never pleasant. But he didn’t hesitate.”

“He didn’t.” Not for a moment. How could he? It had been far from the first time he’d done it. How many times had I seen that scene before my eyes, smelled the ashes in the air all around me, seen his kneeling silhouette outlined by the fire emanating from the body burning before him? Too many times. “I just hate it. I hate this. I hate Antares. She does this to people who’ve done nothing to deserve it. She hurts them, twists them, corrupts them, hollows them out and fills them with herself. And the only way to save them is through fire. Through death. I don’t want to hurt people.”

Alicia squeezed my hand. “You aren’t hurting them. You know that.”

I nodded. “It doesn’t hurt. It feels like a warm hug as the fire envelops you. You shine one final time and you become one with Polaris’s light. I know. I can even see the beauty in it. But it still makes me angry at the loss. They’re only children, barely older than we are, fighting on a battlefield far greater than they know. They don’t belong here.”

“It won’t be for much longer,” she said. “Soon, Instructor Irene will be here, and Emily, and you’ll be able to go inside the Cradle and take back what belongs to us, and this curse will be lifted. No more Excaeli. No more Corruption. No more purification.”

It sounded like a dream. “Right. We’re so close to the end.” And that made each remaining purification more useless, more wasteful, more infuriating. But these soldiers, these dead weights, they had to be here for the plan. There simply weren’t enough of us, enough Luminare for the great work of purification. So they had to be there, out on the fields, holding back the edge of the Corruption with their sticks and stones and bayonets. And they would die. A painful cost. But for the final absolution of our world’s greatest evil, what cost could be too great?

“Anyways,” said Alicia. “Coffee?” My partner pulled out a bottle from her bag, pouring a cup for each of us. Steam swirled into the winter air, the bitter aroma recalling cozy memories of times long gone: sharing breakfast watching the winter sunrise, or evenings in the Citadel playing games by the warmth of the roaring hearths. I took a deep breath, letting the wave of nostalgia wash over me and carry all my worries away. After all, there were few things more refreshing on a cold winter night than a hot cup of coffee.

I took a sip. It was delightfully bitter, as always. “You know, Alicia, you’re awfully prepared for someone who just wandered out into the cold ‘by accident’”

“What are you getting at?”

“Oh just tell me the reason we’re out here. In the cold.”

“Can’t I just want to have a little chat with you?”

“We. Can. Talk. At. Any. Time.” I gave her a gentle knock on the forehead. “You did not have to walk out here in the middle of... of all this to do that! That’s the whole point of being paired up.”

“Yep. And how long have we been paired for?”

Oh. Of course. How had I been so ignorant. “Four years. To the day.” She seemed mildly amused, but I really had no excuse. “Sorry for forgetting.”

“Feels like it was only yesterday, doesn’t it?” She put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Iris. I know you’ve been really busy these past few days. I can’t blame if it slipped your mind.”

“No. I really should’ve remembered.”

“I said it’s okay.” She smiled. “It’s not like I needed you to do anything. Just spending some time together tonight is all I could ask for. Sitting together and having a picnic in the woods, like we did all those years ago.”

“We have forever to spend to together, Alicia. You know that. Plenty of time to sit together and chat and have picnics.” I rubbed my hands together, letting a little heat and light flow out to keep us both warm. “But the forest here is a little more gloomy. And, um, cold.”

“Cold?” She rested her head on my shoulder, a few stray indigo hairs brushing against my cheek. “Wherever you are is warm. And, well, I looked hard for this place. Don’t you recognize it?”

I looked around. The trees, the ice and jagged icicles and rocks weren’t scattered haphazardly, but arranged carefully, by hand. Patterns were traced in the snow and ice and dirt underfoot, echoing something from our past. How had I missed it? “You did all this?”

Alicia beamed. “When we passed this place last night, it reminded me of that time. The day our minds were connected. I don’t know... it just made me all sentimental. I wanted to commemorate this. Especially since we’re actually together, for once. I really tried for our third, but you know what happened. And, well, the second would have never been possible. So fourth it is. Four years.”

“We could repeat the ritual,” I suggested. Though our bond was permanent and unbreakable, until death and even beyond, there was always something special about repeating the ritual. Even though we were paired for life, it was worth it as a reminder. “Given... how uncertain our situation is.”

“Gladly.” She smiled, eyes already glowing brighter silver as she stood up, setting down her cup and stretching in anticipation. She held her hands out, palms open and fingers splayed. Her bracelets shattered, steel marbles filing down her fingers and swirling into the air around us, shining silver and gold as they reflected the glow of our eyes.

I set down my glass and clasped her hands. They were warm, hot, even. The heat swirling in my chest coursed through my veins, down my arms, pouring out through my palms. Not fire, but gentle warmth from me to her and her to me, fingers interlaced, arms connected in a ring of light.

“We’re supposed to say something, right?” she asked. “What was it again?”

“Two as one,” I prompted.

“Right, right. Two as one, under light of one true Patron joined, now and forevermore.” Light began to shimmer on Alicia’s forehead, golden circle and crescent gently fading into view against her tanned skin. I could tell from her expression that the same was happening on my own forehead, mirrored brands of Polaris glowing hot on my skin and hers alike.

“Polaris, accept this union as one being to be your light and fire in a world of ice and darkness,” I said.

“Polaris, accept this union to walk as one along the paths you carve through the unchanging rock of time,” she echoed.

“As of this day, we have served you faithfully for four years.”

“And we pledge to serve you faithfully forevermore.”

“Forevermore,” I echoed. With those words, a sudden pain shot through my skull. The symbol of Polaris glowed brightly on my partner’s forehead, and, though I couldn’t see it, my own, leaving a shadowy brand as the light faded to nothing. Alicia rubbed her forehead to soothe the pain. I resisted the urge to do the same. The mark faded away almost as soon as it had appeared, but for now, seeing the tangible sign of our connection made me happy.

Alicia’s fingers grazed the mark on my forehead. “How come it didn’t hurt for you?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course it hurts. But it’s only a little pain. Nothing to be concerned about.”

She sighed. “Iris, you don’t need to try to be so tough all the time. Not for me. I know you like to think of yourself as a dark and brooding heroine with an immense burden on your shoulders, but it’d do you good to lighten up a bit. We’re not on the verge of death, you know.”

“But we are in danger,” I said, “You’re too carefree, and so I need to be extra serious to make up for it. Otherwise, you’d be... well, frozen, for example.”

“I would not,” Alicia said, picking up her cup once more to take a sip of coffee. “And it’s not like I haven’t gotten you out of as many scrapes. Remember our little camping trip on the Red Ribbon Cut?”

“Please, don’t remind me.”

“You walked right into its mouth.”

“Don’t remind me!” I laughed. “Fine, fine. You help me. A bit. A lot. Even if you don’t take things as seriously as you ought to.”

“Well, someone has to balance you out. Otherwise it’d be all doom and gloom all the time. Whenever a new batch of students approach us back at the Citadel, waiting expectantly for their first missions, I half-expect you to tell them to stop smiling because... because a third of them will be dead by next year or something.”

“But it’s true. They shouldn’t take things so lightly. It’s for their own safety. I just want them to stay vigilant. I want them to make it home safely.”

“It’s true.” She sighed. “But sometimes it’s best for them not remind them of all that danger. It can really put a damper on everything. Don’t you think?”

“No.”

She smirked. “Well that’s probably why they like me more.”

“Alicia!” I gave her a playful nudge. “You may have come first in the popularity poll, but—”

“Shall I read out the comments?” She took her journal out of the bag, flipping through the pages to where a cutout from an old issue of the student-run magazine had been pasted in. “Let’s see... ‘Alicia is my vote for sure. She’s always so friendly and shares the cookies from her family’s bakery.’”

“Alicia—”

“And another. ‘Alicia is the best! I even chose to dye my hair purple just like hers! I especially love when she brings golden crown crisps to our class.’”

“They all just picked you because you bribed them with cookies.”

“What can I say? I’m just so sweet to be around.” She giggled a bit at her own pun. “But I didn’t forget that you were also quite popular in a different way with our underclassmen.” She opened the journal and showed me the two-page spread. On one side was the page for the ‘Graduating Luminare: most popular,’ with Alicia’s face printed front and centre. But on the opposite was the adjoining page. ‘Graduating Luminare: who I want to be like when I graduate.’ And on that page, I saw my own face staring back at me.

“You don’t have to remind me.”

“Should I read these comments too?” said Alicia. “How about this one: ’Iris may be a little scary, but she’s super cool when she gets serious. Everyone in our class looks up to her.’ I have to say, I can’t disagree with that statement. You are super cool.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“You’re having a little too much fun with this, Alicia.”

“Hey. You’re smiling too,” she said. “I do think we made a great pair of role models for them. Very balanced.”

“I...” I sighed as well. “You’re right. You balance me out.” Balance. The word stuck in my head. That’s certainly how it felt. Even now, sitting on the soft blanket of snow that covered the ground, I felt secure, kept safe by the gentle pressure of her telekinetic powers wrapping around me like a warm hug and keeping us in place. I let my hands glow, warm orange light keeping us both warm as the wind howled beyond the forest’s edge, rustling through the leaves and branches above with its passing.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Alicia rummaged through her bag, carefully removing her books before reaching both arms in and triumphantly pulling out a colourful metal tin. She popped open the lid and laid it down beside us. “Cookie?” she offered.

I finished my coffee and put it down on the stump. “Your family?”

“They insisted. After all, they know how much you like them. And they packed enough for both of us.” That was an understatement. The tin was stuffed to the brim with carefully arranged cookies of all sorts: black medallions, crumbly and bitter; golden crown crisps, thin wafers and cream glazed with sugar and lime; and my favourite, crescents, bitter coffee cookies coated with a shiny layer of turquoise icing.

“So you’re bribing me now, too. Well, I’m not going to refuse.” I took one and popped it into my mouth. “Delicious.”

“As always.”

I laughed. “Your dad is so good at baking.”

She shook her head. “He didn’t make these.”

“No way. Sparky? Little Sparky?”

“Iris, Spark’s almost thirteen already. You’ve got to stop calling him that.”

Thirteen. Had it really been that long since I last saw him? “Maybe I should. But you and I both know that I won’t.” We laughed. “These are really good.”

“Yeah. He’ll do well to take over the family business, eventually. More coffee?”

“Please.” I held out my cup and she filled it. “I take it your parents are glad that he’s so good at baking?”

“Yeah. They did worry, back then. I mean, they certainly hadn’t planned for their eldest to nearly die and be saved by Polaris, and be taken away to become a Luminare. And what if he didn’t want to do it? What if he wasn’t any good, or—”

“Well, everything worked out for the best, in the end, didn’t it?”

“Polaris’s plan in action,” she said. “Everything according to her wishes. Everything following the paths she sets for each of us. Protecting us. Saving us. Providing for us.”

Polaris. Our comfort and truth and light in a world that was cold and dark and full of deception. “It’s so good to know that she’s looking out for all of us, isn’t it? That everything will work out in the end. We need only depend entirely on her, and everything else will follow.”

Alicia nodded. “It is. But it makes you wonder, sometimes.”

“Wonder?”

“You know, if we’re just puppets too.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m already your puppet.”

She chuckled. “Yes, I know. But I’m not talking about that. It’s nor just Polaris, either. It’s all the Patrons. They know what’s going to happen. They plan for the best. So then what are we? Do we have free will? Or are we just their pawns, unwilling actors on their stages, made to play out their stories for them?”

“Well look who’s being all serious and dark and brooding now?”

“Iris! I am serious. That’s why—”

We both stopped. Footsteps in the snow, scraping along the forest floor, through the dead leaves. Approaching. North. North north-west. Close.

“You hear that?” she asked.

“Yup.” Light burst from my hands, dim glow replaced with a blinding gleam that cut through the shadows that surrounded us. The creature was visible, a hollow drone meandering towards our position. Its bladed claws hacked through the undergrowth, slicing through metallic bark and leaves with ease.

“Just one, this time.” Alicia’s bracelets shattered, the marbles flying into position around us.

Wait. Not one. Two.

I slid to the side as gleaming bronze claws cut through the air between us. Careless. How had I been so careless? Alicia was fine, if startled by the sudden arrival of our second assailant.

Our training kicked in. Mouths shut. Minds connected. The creature that stood between us was covered in copper scales, reading its claws for a second strike.

A second strike which would never connect, of course. I slammed my palm into the side of its head. Hard. It reeled and fell to the ground, black smoke swirling from the wound. With a flick of Alicia’s wrist, a torrent of steel rained down on it, shattering every joint and leaving the puppet lying motionless against the frozen ground.

“The second?” I asked.

“There.” She turned my head to see it running, a flash of metal bearing on our position, cutting aside everything in its path. It stood no chance at all. Alicia’s Complement rose from the body of its partner, surrounding the creature with a swirling vortex of steel, beating it down into the snow as iron smashed through metal skin and buried itself in the creature’s sinews and mechanisms.

I knelt at the first one, burning what was left, the compromised vessel already being abandoned by its metallic scales. We approached the second at a leisurely pace. It certainly couldn’t move anymore, with Alicia’s steel wedged between its joints. Instead, it flailed about on the ground, uncertain how to animate itself. I placed my palm against the top of its skull and pressed hard, incinerating all but the scales that skittered away, back into the earth and the trees and the vines snaking across the forest floor. Alicia extricated her Complement from the remains, carefully polishing each marble clean of blood and ash with her handkerchief.

Then she stopped. “What’s this?” In her hand lay a small metal sphere, hardly larger than the pieces of her Complement. Its surface was rough, slightly dented and tarnished, but not grimy. Rather, its surface shone copper-brown in my light. Patterns were etched into its surface: lines and images and a familiar set of criss-crossing lines. The personal mark of Antares.

Of course, that was to be expected out here. This was Antares’ domain, after all. But this object... I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to this. Like the Cradle, it made me sick to my stomach.

The night’s ‘festivities’ had been spoiled. “We should probably head back to camp, shouldn’t we?” Alicia asked, slipping the ball into her pocket.

“Yes. Probably.”

She tossed her effects back into her pouch and slung it over her shoulder, running off towards camp. I did a quick sweep to ensure we hadn’t forgotten anything, then followed in her footsteps.

***

The snow had stopped falling by the time we reached the end of the forest. Someone was waiting for us at the edge of camp. It was a tall figure in a dull gray overcoat. A rifle hung fastened on his back, silver eyes glowing faintly in the late darkness. A regular soldier, not a Luminare. Not one of our instructors. Not one of Polaris’s chosen.

“Who are you? What are you doing out there?” His voice was hoarse, as if he’d spent the entire night shift screaming into the darkness. “Everyone has been instructed to stay in the camp”

Alicia helped me down the slope, sliding down right after me. “Sorry,” she said. “We were just out for a bit. There’s no need to be concerned. We’re Luminare. We can handle ourselves.”

He sighed and crossed his arms, wispy breaths condensing in the chilly air above us. “I don’t care who you are. Stay within the camp boundaries, especially at night. It’s very dangerous, and we can’t have people like you running about like this.”

What nerve. “Did you not hear her? We are Luminare. We are Polaris’s chosen, and we can go where we please. Unlike you, we aren’t afraid of the Excaeli. Unlike you, we can take care of ourselves.”

He took a deep breath. “Aren’t you acting a little immature for a pair of Luminare? Oh right. I nearly forgot. That’s probably because you’re still children. If it were up to me, my men would not be babysitting you. But Polaris says so, and we can’t disobey Polaris, now can we?”

Them? Babysitting us? How backwards could you possibly be? “How dare you insult our Patron. You insubordinate—”

“That’s enough.” Jonathan stepped forward, heavy footsteps crunching in the fresh snow. My cheeks flushed. How long had he been watching?

“Sir.” The soldier turned and gave my instructor a curt bow. “They left camp without notifying anyone. I was merely reprimanding them for such irresponsible—”

“I understand, Benjamin. Leave them be. I will talk to them.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alone.”

“Right, sir.” Benjamin disappeared into one of the tents. My instructor turned to us, golden eyes glowing softly, illuminating his chestnut curls and the smooth bronze skin of his face. His lips were pursed, words trapped just behind them, ready to burst out at any moment.

“I can explain, Jonathan,” I said. “Alicia got lost, and I wandered out into the forest to look for her.”

“No,” said Alicia. “I went out and told Iris to come after me. I know it was irresponsible, but I just wanted some time away from camp.”

“Slow down.” Jonathan laughed. “My, my, leaving the camp already? We only set it up this evening.”

“You’re not upset?” I asked.

He put a hand on my shoulder and leaned down to look me eye-to-eye. “I have the utmost confidence in your abilities. I’m sure Saul would say the same thing of you, Alicia.” I’m not upset. He gave a deep sigh. “That said, we are supposed to be setting an example for the rest, now, aren’t we? And leaving camp like that does not reflect well on yourselves, on the Luminare, and on our Patron.”

“Right,” I said.

“So tell me, why did you leave camp at all?”

Alicia spoke up. “I just wanted us to spend some time alone together.”

“You have your tent. You don’t need to walk out there to have some privacy.”

“That’s true, but—”

“But?” he asked.

Alicia bit her lip, shuffling in place slightly before responding. “I just wanted to, okay? It’s not the same here, and I could set everything up nicely out there. And it’s so much better to really be alone with your other half. Don’t you think?”

My instructor narrowed his eyes, as if to scold my partner more, but decided not to pursue the matter any further. He sighed. “I suppose Saul and I used to do the same when we were your age. It’s hard to fault you for feeling the same. Just get some rest. You really shouldn’t be up this late.”

“Oh! I almost forgot” said Alicia.

“Yes?”

She pulled out the brass sphere from her pocket. “We found something on an Excaeli while we were out. Something with a... just look at it.”

My instructor rolled the sphere between his thumb and forefinger, examining it with the narrow beam of light shining from his other hand. After a few moments, he held it up to ear and gave it a gentle shake. Apparently satisfied, he handed it back to her. “It’s just a trinket,” he concluded. “Something that Antares might attach to one of her puppets. A decoration. Nothing more. Rather... rather horrid thing, but I won’t stop you from keeping it as a souvenir, if you want.”

“Thanks, instructor,” she said, putting it back in her pocket.

“What, you’re keeping it?” I asked.

“It’s a souvenir from tonight.” She winked.

My instructor yawned. “Now, you two had better go off to bed before Saul—”

“Before I what?” my uncle interrupted. He walked over to stand behind Jonathan, his massive form blocking the way back to our tent. His eyes were glowing silver, heavy arms crossed over his chest. The silver cubes of his Complement floated in the air just behind him. “Why are you two up?”

“No reason,” I said.

He raised an eyebrow. “Alicia?”

“R-right, instructor,” she said. “I... we went off a short distance from camp. To celebrate our pairing. It’s been four years, you know. And today’s the anniversary, so I wanted to do something a little more special.”

“Four years. Wow. Time flies,” my uncle said. “That said, you really shouldn’t be wandering off like—”

Jonathan put a hand on my uncle’s shoulder. “Saul, I’ve already told them.”

“It bears repeating,” Uncle Saul continued. “I’d expect something like this from you, Alicia, but Iris? Why didn’t you bring her back right away?”

Of course. It was always my fault if we got into trouble. Of course he’d lecture me. Even if Alicia was the one who’d left on her own and told me to follow her. Even if Alicia was the one who planned all of this. Even if Alicia was his student, and I was Jonathan’s. “Don’t be like that, Uncle Saul. I know—”

“Iris. You know why I expect more from you. Why we all do. You’re—”

“I’m the heir to Lumis.” I knew these words by heart. They’d been drilled into my head more than any other. “I’m Polaris’s special chosen one. As was Jonathan. And all the others that came before him. Chosen to take the mantle of her daughter.” My eyes drifted to the necklace of light that glinted against my instructor’s neck. “To someday wear her light around my neck. A blessing from our Patron, to make up for what was taken.”

Uncle Saul nodded. “A blessing, yes, but also—”

“But also a responsibility. To dutifully lead, torch held high, light shining brilliantly. To be the very best. To show the very best of what we can be. To lead our people on the straight and narrow path she draws for us.” I knew these words, and they were true. And I knew they meant that we shouldn’t have gone out like that and fooled around in the Corruption. But... “I know this, uncle. But this was a special occasion. It’s no big deal. It’s not like we were in any danger, or anything. And even if we were, we’re perfect. We don’t fail. Come on. It was just this one time.”

“One time? One time is all it takes.” He held up an Excaeli claw, its jagged edge brushing past my neck. “Everyone is perfect until they make a mistake, Iris. And the need for perfection doesn’t stop when you’re out of combat.”

“I understand,” I said.

He dropped the claw, the steel cubes of his own complement whirling through the air and shattering it into glittering shards before it could hit the ground. “I just want you two to be ready. Jonathan and I won’t be here to guide you forever.”

My instructor put a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “But hey, that won’t be for a while. Right now, you kids need to get some rest, okay? We have another big day ahead of us tomorrow.” He motioned for us to leave.

We returned to our tent, tossing our stuff to the ground before diving under the covers. He was right. It was late. We needed the rest. And I hadn’t been perfect enough. Hadn’t been a good example. Hadn’t acted as I should have. I should’ve just told Alicia to come back the moment she called out to me, instead of fooling around. After all, this wasn’t the time for that. We had a mission to complete. “Next time—”

“Iris, just sleep,” Alicia’s voice cut through my thoughts. “I know you’re worried, and I’m sorry I got us into trouble—”

“I shouldn’t have gone along with you. Uncle Saul was right. It was irresponsible.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. It was worth it. It was fun. And it’s not like they were always setting the best example when they were our age. You let Instructor Saul get to you too much, you know. Every time, it’s always like this—”

“He’s just concerned about our well-being, Alicia. Of course I take what he says seriously. And he’s your instructor! I don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about him.”

“He’s concerned about our well-being? Are you sure that’s the reason that you’re always so bothered by what he says?”

“Of course.”

She chuckled. “If you say so,” she said aloud, before rolling over and pulling the covers tighter.

Maybe there was a little more to it, even if I couldn’t yet admit it. “Alicia?” I asked. “I am perfect, right?”

But she had already fallen asleep. The bed was warm, we were together again, and I was also very tired. With the question still lingering in my mind, I drifted off as well.