9: NICK

----------------------------------------

I sit in a chair beside Ainsley’s bed considering whether it’s right to move forward or not. Elaina’s beside me, a frown marring her otherwise beautiful face.

“She might not be awake,” she finally says, “but she’s saturated, and we have a responsibility to S.W.O.R.D. to see the result.”

Pritchett was the first to saturate while Ainsley was the last. The rest of the charges woke within a day, some through the night even, but not her.

“Our responsibility is to Ainsley,” I course-correct.

“You know, she might double the ignition increase,” Elaina chimes hopefully.

This year’s saturation has been wildly successful, bringing the ignition percentage from five to nine with a total of eight new charges claiming a spark. Ainsley could make the count nine and truly double ignition. Six of those charges are under our direct care, two more if we count Luke’s derelicts.

This growth is significant and deserves so much more than the misery stalling my liftoff, but until Ainsley wakes up, I won’t enjoy a second of that success or spend any time evaluating whether our proactive approach impacted the results.

Ainsley looks half dead lying there, her skin so pale it’s almost translucent with hulking dark circles under her eyes. This hasn’t happened in over twenty years. I’m scared we might lose her like we did so many before the Order regulated the transition.

The Spark Ceremony holds a risk. We all know that, but not going through it compounds the risk exponentially. At least in a safe environment, we maintain some modicum of control over the situation. That’s why the mandatory order was put in place to begin with. To protect them. And us.

But as I sit staring at her, I start to doubt we have any real control over this wild thing living dormant inside us until we shock it awake. Sometimes it wakes up angry or sluggish. Hers doesn’t want to wake up at all, and worse, it’s keeping her asleep with it.

Or, is this all her? Is she letting the clock run down to zero sleeps so she doesn’t have to bother with us again? Yeah, no. That can’t be true. No one would choose this.

“Do you really think she’s going to freely offer up her blood once she’s awake?” Elaina tries again. “Checking while she’s unconscious is a kindness to her.”

I scrub my palms over my burning eyes. Elaina wants to weigh Ainsley’s blood right now. I want to wait until she’s awake. I’m exhausted from the emotional turbulence, and I really don’t have the energy to keep fighting over this. “Go on and call the nurse then,” I sputter.

She tings a sigh. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I hate that I’m hurting you.”

“You’re not hurting me,” I tailslide. “This isn’t about me. I’m just trying to do right by Ainsley. We keep taking from her, from all of them, and this is something she should experience for herself.”

“Don’t you feel like what they’re given in return, what we’re given, balances out what we’ve taken?”

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

“You know that’s a faulty measurement.” I downdraft my lips. “Ends don’t justify the means. We’ve never believed they do. That’s why we fought so hard to be a part of this.”

“I know,” she plinks. “I still believe that, but I also believe we have a responsibility to the future, ours and theirs and everyone who comes next. Ainsley isn’t the only one who needs our help right now. Even beyond that, these charges aren’t the only ones who need our help. Right now isn’t tomorrow. If we stall our calling over one person, how many more will suffer tomorrow as a result?”

There’s a bigger picture. My head knows that, but my heart is tearing in two over this. I met my ceremony with excitement, happy to be one less mouth for my parents to feed for a little while. It’s easy for me to relate to charges like me who come from a place that can never capture the opportunities presented here. For the others, the ones like Ainsley who don’t want anything to do with this or us, it’s harder to help them.

The desired result for Ainsley will be no ignited sparks. While I accept that, I still hope the briefest time we’ve spent together will have changed her opinion of us. We aren’t all trying to control her. Some of us just want to help.

Passing along a negative result will be easy. It’s exactly what she wants to hear. If it goes the other way though, and a spark has ignited, she’s going to blow a fuse. She’ll buck every restriction that comes with ignition.

“If this becomes Fiona part two…” I whitetrail.

Elaina grimaces knowingly. We botched Fiona’s spark ignition. We should’ve been more firm with her, forced her to listen to us, or walked with her to the Registry. Instead, we let her fly solo because she was too darn excited to wait. Then Luke happened. Then Keira. Then Luke and Keira together. The result? A messy mid-air collision.

Okay, so maybe we weren’t airtight at take off, but we’re mostly blameless for the crash landing. We take no responsibility for Luke and Keira’s involvement. We didn’t force Fiona to barricade herself in her dorm room with Grady. The only thing we forced was entry to the room, courtesy of the Dorm Guards, who happened to be Luke and Keira. That was just bad luck. Like I said. Botched. Fiona’s ignition flight was totally botched.

“Grady’s ignition wasn’t much better,” she reminds me.

Now it’s my turn to grimace. Convincing Grady to submit to his Saturation Ceremony took nearly a full day after that. Even then, we had to bring the Spark Scale to Fiona’s room. We tried to explain what happened to Fiona and why, but that didn’t help. Of course it didn’t. Who wants to hear they’re part of a balanced wielder diet? No one. That’s who. Instead of being excited about his ignited earth spark, Grady sobbed until he threw up all over himself…and Fiona.

“Maybe we should’ve told them more before,” she tinks.

It’s not like we were purposely withholding vital information. We were just trying to make sure fear didn’t reduce their ignition odds. And, honestly, the proof is in the pudding. It worked. They both ignited sparks. So, was a faulty flight path responsible for the crash landings? Objectively, no. No it was not.

“We told them what they needed to know at the time,” I course-confirm. “Let’s just get this done. I’m running on fumes.”

Elaina calls a nurse to draw the blood. We make them leave before we squirt it into the scale. Privacy is the least Ainsley deserves at this point. I turn away, stowing my curiosity in favour of blind support.

Elaina gasps. “Look.”

I pause for a moment before turning back to see for myself. Ainsley isn’t just sparkling. In the scale, gloriously balanced, are all four elements. She’s ignited air, earth, fire, and water.

I yaw my head in disbelief. “That can’t be right.”

“It’s never been wrong,” she backwinds.

My brow drags. “Maybe it’s because she’s unconscious?”

Elaina clappers her head. “No, she’s just…everything.”

I blow out a low whistle. “She’s messed up like a soup sandwich, and she’s not going to be happy about it.”

“No,” she agrees.

“We need to make this better for her!” I boom.

“We don’t even know what this means for her, for any of us,” she pings.

“I don’t care about that part. Tomorrow can wait until tomorrow. She needs our help right now,” I inform her.

“How can we help?” she chimes supportively.

“We need to bring in reinforcements.” I tug her with me into the hallway as I draw out my Sparklet.