Light dragged Ember to the dance floor, ignoring her polemics. The other girl, her cheeks flushed, followed, her eyes fixed on the floor, not knowing where to look. Light glanced at her briefly, but her attention remained on Alpes and the Ysnian woman. They danced in each other's arms, a slow rhythm; swayed among the other couples, exchanging smiles.

Light calculated the situation well, her fingers gripping Ember's hand. She decided to stay behind a stiff-looking couple, to hide. Not that it would have helped. Alpes seemed too lost in the Ysnian woman's eyes to pay attention to anything else.

Light turned toward Ember. The chandeliers' glow created an intricate web of light and shadow on her face.

"Can you dance?" Light asked, holding out her left hand.

Ember hesitated, her arm raised in the air. She bit her lip and kept her distance, as if afraid of burning herself. "N-no," she admitted with an edge to her voice.

Light reached out her hand for Ember's. She supported it. "It's easy. Just follow my steps." She pulled her a little closer to her body and began to move her feet.

Slowly. She followed the music, that seemed to drag. Notes hovered in the room like a cloud of smoke, elusive and enigmatic. With each breath, Light felt it descend into her chest to nestle there. To wrap itself around her heart.

Ember looked down. She was red enough to look like she was about to explode, yet she maintained absolute concentration on the movement. Each time she lent Light's foot, she bared her teeth for a split second and mumbled an apology. Strands of blonde fell disheveled on her forehead.

The hand that held Light's shoulder tightened a little around the fabric of her jacket. As if searching for an anchor.

Light barely held back a half smile. She wasn't there to enjoy watching Ember try not to stumble. She had a goal.

Alpes and the woman danced around, almost embracing, heedless of the other couples. For the moment, they seemed too focused on enjoying each other's warmth to talk.

"Um, Sarge?" Ember's voice was a flicker making its way through the cloud of smoke.

"Hmm?" Light kept her eyes on Alpes. Waiting for a misstep. Anything that might give away the woman's intentions, or his possible betrayal.

"I guess I'm not cut out for dancing."

She huffed, gripping Ember's hand tighter in hers. "You just gotta learn."

"Besides, I don't think it's a good idea. What if they see us? It doesn't make sense, what sergeant takes a cadet dancing for training?"

While Light appreciated the fact that Ember had begun to speak her mind, at least to her, the girl was sometimes annoying. "When I was a cadet, my sergeant did just that. He took us all dancing."

That shut her up, at least for a moment. "Oh," she murmured then, biting her lip as if to hold back more words. "And how did you do?"

"Better than you," Light replied. She held out her arm to allow Ember to turn on herself; it took her a few moments too long to figure out what to do. Once back in position, she sought Light's shoulder as a lifeline. She was red to the tips of her ears.

Light had hated dancing lessons. Like Ember, she'd complained to her sergeant about the stupidity of the activity. In her case he actually believed in it, and wasn't just using it as an excuse to keep an eye on a possible traitor. As a woman, they had tried to pair her with a boy, and the theory was that she was supposed to learn to follow him. But the result had been quite different: after several clumsy attempts on his part, Light had switched roles, and eventually she had led.

Many had laughed at the boy. He was less 'manly' than Light, they said. She had responded with a contemptuous "tsk" and left. The next time, she had asked another girl to dance, and no boy had dared to object.

She had never had any fun. And in truth, she wasn’t having fun now. Ember's awkward reactions might have been amusing had she not been distracted by watching Alpes and the Ysnian woman.

Light pressed her hand against the other girl's hip with a little more force as she led her, step by step, around a couple that blocked her view. The way Ember kept stumbling distracted her from her goal; Ember's soft body allowed itself to be supported with unexpected trust, seemed to rely on her completely. Light's hand slid higher, finding the curve of her waist. How light it was under her fingers. As if a breath could blow her away. But she knew it was only an appearance: beneath that fragile facade, Ember was much stronger than she appeared. Light swallowed and returned her attention to the target, but the feeling remained.

The Ysnian woman whispered something in Alpes' ear. Impossible to tell what, from this distance, especially with all the commotion and music in the background. He frowned as he listened to her words and barely shook his head.

"I can't," his lips said. The sound did not come, but he scanned the words so well that it was easy to read his lips. "Not again."

He couldn't what?

Light moved again. Too fast. Ember stomped to follow, but someone bumped into her. A tall, lanky man with slicked-back hair; he gave Ember an annoyed look, as if she had been the one to bump into him.

"Sorry," she muttered, clutching Light.

The man's companion lifted her chin haughtily. "Watch where you step." She spoke strangely, as if she had egg in her mouth. She pretended to have a typical northern Valestrian accent, but it was obvious that it was false.

"Tsk." Light dragged Ember away, not even bothering to reply.

The Ysnian woman had moved away from Alpes by now. Only a few steps. They were no longer dancing, staring at each other in the middle of the floor. Alpes tried to approach her. He took her arm and whispered something. She shook her head with conviction and broke free of his grip.

Ember stopped moving. Light felt her weight against her chest as the girl leaned forward to watch the scene.

The Ysnian woman walked off the dance floor in a straight line, forcing the couples to move aside to let her pass.

"Isme, wait!" Alpes shouted behind her. He moved only a few steps before the people blocked his path again with their pirouettes.

Light stubbed her feet. Her fingers slipped from Ember's as a thousand unanswered questions filled her head. Why had they quarreled? What was it that he could no longer do for her? Something that had angered her enough to set up that scene in the middle of the club.

He had gotten her into the Academy once. What if this was it? What if the woman was trying to convince Alpes to let her back in? A theory based on thin air, but it was the only reasonable answer that removed the doubt from any of her questions.

Her feet moved without her commanding them. By the time she realized that she was only a few steps away from Alpes, who was suddenly staring at her in a dazed manner, it was too late. "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed at him. There, in the middle of the floor.

The same couple that had bumped into Ember moments before were giving her a disdainful look. Light ignored them.

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Alpes stood dumbfounded for a few seconds. The music changed, the mysterious, smoky atmosphere giving way to a sappy ballad. Finally, he lit up with a forced smile. "Lightara, what are you doing here? I didn't know you liked to dance." He just tilted his head. "Hello to you too, Ember. What an interesting pairing."

"Ah, we..."

Light raised her arm to silence Ember. She obeyed without hesitation and took a step back. "Don't change the subject. Who was that woman?"

"I didn't take you for the jealous type." Alpes pulled his hair back. He kept flashing that wavering smile, but his body language screamed urgency. His feet were pointed toward the exit. He wanted to follow the woman. "Maybe we should talk outside, away from the music?"

"No need. You can answer me in a few words." Light clenched her fists, barely resisting the urge to throw the information out with a good punch to the stomach. "Who is that woman? And why did you let her into the Academy without permission?"

"What?" Alpes put his hand to his heart.

A defensive pose. "What are you talking about?"

"You smuggled a Ysnian woman into the Academy. Don't you think that's suspicious?"

"As suspicious as you being here dancing with one of your cadets, you mean?"

It was a low blow. Light snapped her tongue in annoyance and grabbed his jacket by the lapels. "Don't put me on the same level. I was right to be suspicious of you."

Alpes pushed the hand away and pulled out of her grip. Light didn't resist, but stayed close to him. "Do you think the fact that I'm with a Ysnian is so terrible? Is that the problem?"

"I don't give a damn who you date, Alpes. What I don't want is you letting unauthorized people into the Academy. At night, no less."

"You're accusing me based on what? Suspicion?"

The couples had moved away, leaving an empty crater with only the three of them in the center. They danced around them as if nothing had happened. As if they were used to scenes like this.

Light pinched the bridge of her nose. She had to breathe or she would explode. She was already exploding. Why did no one ever take things seriously in this damn place? "Did you let her in, yes or no?"

Alpes swallowed. It was blatant, the Adam's apple dancing in his throat. "What are you going to do? Report me? You have no proof."

Light took that as a yes. "Why did you fight? Did she want you to let her back in and get mad because you said no?"

Alpes turned his head toward the exit. Perhaps he was still waiting for the woman to return. He acted like a little dog. "Don't talk about things you don't know."

"Then tell me why!"

"It's none of your business!"

They both raised their voices. No one paid attention to them anymore. But someone walked away from the floor, annoyed, noses turned up.

Light felt a hand tug on her sleeve. Ember. "Sarge..."

The red of Alpes' hair mingled with the gold of the club. A flame bathed in impenetrable armor. Light couldn't divert her attention from him. She wanted to force the words from his mouth. She wanted him to admit his guilt.

"I should report this to the Colonel," she said. "Maybe you can tell him, why you let a Ysnian woman use you like a lovesick schoolboy."

Alpes straightened the sleeves of his jacket. Stiff, as serious as she had ever seen him. Protected by all the gold around him. "And what are you going to tell him? I told you, you have no proof. It's your word against mine." He glanced at Ember. "You, on the other hand. I could tell him that you dragged a cadet into your game of traitor hunting. You just can't bring yourself to admit your mistakes, can you?"

Light lost the ability to speak. To breathe. To move. Her body froze, became a piece of ice, destined to stay there until it thawed. Until it melted and there was nothing left of her.

"There is no traitor, Lightara! That mission was not your fault, it was not my fault, it was no one's fault. Stop using your cadets to fight a responsibility you can't accept."

She raised her arm. She wanted to silence him. But words were not enough. So she charged her fist, and two arms wrapped around her elbow. They held her tight.

"Sarge, please," Ember murmured to her. It almost sounded like a plea. "The bouncer," she added.

Light drew her attention away from Alpes. It was as if someone had burst a bubble around her, freeing her from a prison of which she was unaware of. The bouncer made his way toward them, his muscles bulging and his stride heavy.

A guy like that would have been easy to knock out.

"I must ask you to leave," the bouncer said, his deep voice contrasting with the softness of the melody in the background.

Alpes gave him one of his smiles. "Of course, sir. We're sorry for the inconvenience. We were just leaving. Weren't we?"

Light, however, had already started for the exit. The air outside froze her thoughts. She walked on, not knowing where she was going. She was searching for silence. She was looking for a place where the city lights would not blind her, where they would dim enough for her to experience the darkness of the evening. Away from the hum of the engines.

Away from the Alps.

Away from the academy.

Far away from everything.

She heard a voice behind her. Faint, trembling. Light ignored it and kept walking.

"Sarge!" she called again. "Sarge!" And again.

And then, "Lightara!"

Light came to a sudden halt, her heart roaring in her chest like a drumbeat. The light of a street lamp bathed her from above, forming a circle at her feet. She lifted her head to admire the sliver of moon obscured by clouds. It was barely visible, a shy ghost watching her from above.

Ember ran to cover the last few steps that separated them. Her breathing was heavy, but she was not tired. She stood before her, in the middle of the same circle of light, shrouded in darkness. She played with the flame-shaped pendant, her lips parted. She tensed before releasing the pendant and taking a deep breath.

"We're all running from something," she said.

Light didn't understand. She just stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

"You told me." Ember shook her head and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were huge, glowing. "But we're not just running away, you and I."

Was that really the case?

Light was running away from so many things. From Eira. From the guilt. From the possibility that the traitor was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. As far as she knew, all the things that had happened were just coincidences.

“What are we doing then?” she asked, her tone tired.

Ember took a step forward, the light enveloping her. " We're fighting for something we believe in. Alpes is right, we lack proof. But now we have a direction."

Amazing how someone who often seemed confused and lacking in leadership could hide such a mature heart. Who knew what had led Ember to become that way, that mixture of fragility and strength that sometimes made her destibilized.

Light turned her gaze to the lamppost, to its scaly surface. "Alpes is right, I shouldn't drag you into this."

Ember shook her head, her blonde hair flying in front of her face. Determined. "No. I won't- I won't stand by and watch you risk everything on your own."

"Ember..."

"I chose to help you of my own free will. Please let me- let me fight."

Light couldn't find the words to answer. She was reminded of the image Ember had drawn of her: a fearless woman, a heroine willing to throw herself into danger. That woman didn't exist except in the imagination of a cadet who, for some reason, blindly believed in her Sergeant.

Yet in that moment, under the flickering light of the street lamp, she saw that woman reflected in Ember's eyes.

"All right," she finally murmured. The words were uncertain, almost a whisper.

Ember smiled, and the beam of the streetlight found a warmer, more vivid glow. It left Light with the fleeting feeling of something she wished she could cherish, if only for a moment. "Good. Because judging by the mess you made today, I think you need me."

Light huffed a half-smile. "Who taught you to be such a smartass?"

"You did?"

Light shook her head and rolled her eyes, a new ease in her chest. "Shut up and move. It's late." She started walking again, smiling at the sound of Ember's footsteps beside her.