Oblam's office made a completely different impression during the day when it was crowded with other people. Ember followed General Phoenix inside and sat down in the empty chair in front of the desk. No one seemed to notice her arrival except Ferun; she gave Ember a brief nod, as if to greet her, or perhaps to reassure her. Oblam, on the other hand, was sitting in his chair, facing the canary cage - thankfully asleep. The base of his whiskers was damp. In his hands he held a cup of a greenish liquid that emitted spirals of smoke.

Beside him, Alpes whistled cheerfully as he rolled up the sleeves of his uniform. He raised his eyes to meet Ember's, a sign that he was aware of her presence, but quickly averted them. As if he wanted to pretend there was no problem and escape for as long as possible.

'He hates conflict with all of himself,' the Sargeant had said. And perhaps Ember was beginning to see what she meant.

Or maybe it's just that you get on everyone's nerves about crap. Nobody wants to pay attention to your bullshit.

Ember adjusted her cloak better under her legs. It had not been she who had insisted on being heard. It had been the Sergeant.

She reached into her pocket. Ever since she had received it, Ember had carried Knifey with her wherever she went. The cold weight always pressed against her thigh reminded her she was not alone, that no matter how much the world might resent her, there was someone who cared about her.

Phoenix took a seat on the edge of the desk, one leg dangling at his side. He gave her a warm smile.

In that moment, Ember understood why Ciel and Viola found him so charming. Although she did not share their attraction to men, there was something magnetic about Phoenix.

Ferun cleared her throat. She stood a few steps away from Ember's chair, wearing her uniform and half-cloak with her usual pride. "Colonel, she's here," she said. She had the same piqued tone as when she scolded her cadets.

Oblam almost jumped, a few drops spilling out of his glass. "Oh. Oh, yes, of course, I apologize. I was distracted."

Biting her lip, Ember made herself smaller in her chair. It was off to a good start.

"So, Cadet Leroy." The Colonel put the glass back on the desk, next to a file of papers left there haphazardly. He kept his head down, as if he preferred to focus on the objects on his desk rather than on her. "We heard from Sergeant Ferun that you had an unpleasant encounter with Jason Oers."

Unpleasant encounter. Pretty polite way to describe an infraction.

Ember tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Um, yes, that's right, sir."

"I see." Oblam took something out of a drawer and put it in his mouth. A candy. The sound of his sucking made her shiver. He took more candy, wrapped in colorful paper, and offered it to Alpes and Phoenix. They accepted.

When he tried to give one to Ferun as well, she almost smoked out of her ears. "With all due respect, Colonel, I'd rather focus on the Oers issue right now."

It was strange to see the Sergeant trying so hard to keep her composure. She stood with her back straight and her usual serious expression, but she seemed rigid. Like a plank of wood that would break if she tried to bend.

The Colonel put the candy back in its place and shooed away her words with one hand. "Come on, Sergeant, it's not like I said I wouldn't take care of it."

Ember crossed her legs under her chair, confused. Her superiors exuded an aura of tension she had not expected, especially the Colonel and the Sergeant. Was there perhaps a quarrel between them?

She wondered if Oblam was the person who did not want to listen, the one Ferun had told her about, but she thought it unlikely. After all, Ferun had explicitly said it was a 'she'. Ember had spent hours trying to figure out who the Sergeant was referring to that day. She had come to the conclusion that it was someone from her personal life, and it had been difficult to ignore the slight feeling of jealousy she had felt.

Jealous of what? What did you have in mind, that you were important to her? Don't make me laugh.

Alpes intervened at that moment, chasing away both Ember's crazy thoughts and the growing tension. "Ember, why don't you tell us exactly what happened? Lightara only gave us the basics."

"Um, yeah." How much could she say without exposing herself and the Sergeant too much? "I was on my way back to my dorm..."

"Who were you with earlier?" interrupted Phoenix. He kept his hands folded in his lap and watched her with an interested expression.

Ember scratched her temple, confused. She wasn't sure if the information served any purpose or if it was just an excuse to judge her. "With Ciel and Viola," she replied, a spark of pride igniting in her chest as she noticed Alpes nod in agreement. "We were in the gardens, chatting about this and that."

"Were they with you when you returned to the dormitory?"

"N-no." Ember rubbed her wrist, under the communication bracelet. "I was alone."

Phoenix glanced at Oblam and Alpes. If the latter seemed interested in the story, the former kept his head bent over the file, sipping every now and then. "Go on," the General said.

"I noticed that the door was open and there were some noises coming from inside."

"What kind of noises?"

"Like someone was ... rummaging around."

"I see. Go ahead, please."

Ember squeezed Knifey between her fingers in the hidden warmth of her pocket. "I was taking a few steps back, thinking about calling a supervisor, when Jason-" She froze, running a hand through her hair. "Jason came out of the room."

Only then did Oblam raise his head. His moustache danced on his lips, and he looked like a mouse about to gnaw on a piece of cheese. "Is that all?"

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I told you, you're making a fuss over nothing.

Ember focused her attention on the floor joints, following the pattern with her eyes. "No," she murmured without conviction.

Ferun huffed beside her. She clenched her fists at her sides. Ember concentrated on this small detail. The Sergeant embodied the wolf in her at that moment: snarling, itching to show its fangs. But she held back, circumstances preventing her from letting it out.

A tingling sensation stirred Ember's fingers. It demanded that she touch the Sergeant's hand, brush against it, if only for a moment. She wanted to find out if this gesture could transfer some of Ferun's pride to her. But the mere thought was enough to send a warmth from her chest to her face.

She swallowed her embarrassment - to no avail - before continuing. "He walked up to me and, well, he..." Instinctively, Ember brought her hand to her shoulder. The same one where her scar throbbed. "He grabbed me hard. And he told me to stop playing hero, and then he left."

Is that all?

The miniature version of her father echoed Oblam's question.

But the Colonel said nothing, not at first. Everyone waited for his answer, lips sealed. Ember gripped her shoulder even tighter.

Until Oblam let himself fall back against the backrest, his hands open against the desk. "Listen to me, Ember. I understand that you were frightened, but what you've told me is mostly boyish shenanigans. Oers is a fine young man, he's probably just frustrated because he doesn't know how to deal with mission guilt. He has lost comrades, just like you. We can't punish someone just because they left a little mess."

The scar on her shoulder was burning now. A reminder of a past that seemed increasingly impossible to escape.

You aren't just running. You're fighting. Don't forget that.

Ferun took a step forward, boots stomping hard on the ground as if she wanted to crush Oblam under her heel. "With all due respect, sir, this is not just a stunt. His actions constitute harassment and intimidation, as well as a clear example of unprofessional conduct within the Academy."

"Indeed, the boy may have gone too far," Alpes agreed.

Or perhaps it is you who are overreacting.

Ember closed her eyes, trying to get her father's voice out of her head. She concentrated on Ferun's fire, which was warming her side.

"All right, he went too far," Oblam said. "I'm not saying Oers wasn't wrong. But we also have to consider the situation. We're in the middle of a war, we're all a little tense, and they're just kids. Nobody got hurt, I don't think we really need to raise a fuss."

"And when do we raise the fuss, when someone has already been hurt? When do we stop ignoring the signs? We cannot allow the situation to escalate to the point where it becomes unmanageable."

"Sergeant, calm down." Oblam stood up. He was not tall, and Ferun could tower over him. Only the desk separated them, a wall that reminded them of their difference in hierarchy.

She's going to get in trouble because of you, you little moron. You should have minded your own business.

You need to learn to take care of your own problems instead of always looking for Mommy.

Ember gritted her teeth, barely holding back a 'fuck you' to her father's phantom presence. But she had a hook in her gut, and it kept pulling and pulling, as if trying to force it out of her.

Ferun stood with clenched fists, but did not retort. She kept her distance again. However, she still radiated a fiery aura.

Oblam adjusted a button on his uniform. "I know you are young and that you care about the rules. That's admirable, really. But you must also consider the situation. We're in the middle of a war; we don't have time to worry about all the squabbles between the kids."

"Maybe we can at least give Oers a reprimand, Colonel," Alpes interjected. "Just to make sure he knows he was wrong."

Phoenix raised his hand and spoke calmly. "I'm sure we can do something for Ember, Colonel. Also to help her feel less in danger so she can concentrate on her training."

Oblam sighed. "Sure. If you see fit, you can reprimand the boy, I have no objection to that."

Ember was almost tempted to beg them not to. If there was one thing she had learned in her eighteen years of life, it was that a reprimand from a superior figure only served to make people more angry. She could already see him, Jason, waiting for her with his sword drawn the next time she returned to her room.

What if he was the traitor?

He could have taken the warning to the officers as a sign that Ember was ready to denounce his alliance with the Ysnians.

As much as she clutched Knifey between her fingers, it was not enough. She felt as if her chair had fallen out from under her, as if she was floating in a world of blackness.

She heard them talking again, Oblam, Alpes and Phoenix. She could not understand a single word; they were lost in the meanders of nothingness that surrounded them. Finally, they had to call her several times to get her attention, and then they dismissed her.

Ember left the office accompanied by the Sergeant. They walked close together and for a moment their shoulders brushed. Ember bit her lip, hoping her face would not explode. The feeling of warmth the Sergeant gave off almost made her shiver.

In the hallway, the air was more breathable, smelling fresh and salty. Somehow, the breeze from the open windows calmed her a bit.

Ferun let out a huge sigh and her muscles relaxed. She no longer looked like a plank of wood about to break, but like a used and tired mattress that had carried the weight of people who had no problem jumping on it for too long.

You are one of those people.

"I'm sorry," Ember muttered, her hands trembling in her pockets.

The Sergeant shook her head, fingers gripping the root of her nose. "Don't apologize. You're not the one who doesn't give a damn about the rules."

"But maybe they're right, Sarge. Maybe I have..."

Ferun's eyes were icy. For a moment, Ember thought the other one was going to annihilate her. But then the tension eased and the Sergeant softened her expression. "They're not right. And you know it."

Did she know?

Ember put her hand to her chest. Her heart was beating with disturbing force, but she only realized it then. She noticed how much blood was pumping through her veins, like boiling lava bubbling beneath her skin. "They're not going to do anything, are they?"

"Oblam certainly won't. And Alpes is only good with words. Maybe Phoenix will try to talk to Oers, I don't know."

It wasn't enough. It was always like that. No matter how hard she tried. Nothing ever changed.

Ember clutched the fabric of the uniform between her fingers. They were trembling, as if the lava inside her was desperately trying to find a way out. "If only I were not so weak, I could defend myself," she whispered.

"You still can, Ember." Ferun took a step closer. She took the other girl's hand and loosened her fingers around the cloth. Ember's knuckles had turned white, while her palm was reddened. "You're right, they won't do anything, and as much as I'd like to change things, I can't. You're on your own."

Ember watched as the Sergeant's fingers gripped hers. Her heart began to pump blood faster. It did not seem to slow even when their hands parted, the ghost of that touch still warm on her skin.

It's not true. You're not really alone.

She nodded with renewed resolve. "See you tomorrow morning for training, Sarge."

Getting stronger remained her only weapon. And she would try hard. To help Ferun. To defend herself against Jason.

To show the world that she had a place, too.