Novels2Search

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.

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

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

āœ¦ā‹†š“†©āœ§š“†Ŗā‹†āœ¦

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."