Ember

  Sound tears through the air as Lillith fights in the arena. I can only hope she isn’t stupid enough to fool around this time. Hate it as I might, I need her to fight the sages. And for some reason I don’t fully understand, I want the sages dead more than anything. Again that building pressure stabs through my head. Like a constant, physical anxiety I can’t place. It builds and it builds and it builds and I can only express it through constant anger. It’s not right. It’s not supposed to be rage, or not just rage. It’s something else. Something I can’t reach but desperately need, and I live in thirst for it. And in fear of it. Every day, drinking what little I can extract from my hatred for everyone and everything.

  Grief. It’s supposed to be grief. I know that now. Lillith and Autumn wax on about it so much I could hardly forget. The name, at least. Because that’s all it is to me. A name. I can’t identify the emotion the word is meant to describe any more than I can picture a color I’ve never seen from its name alone. Except that isn’t right. Because I have felt grief. I felt it when Sarafyna and Lillith pulled it from me like clean water from the spine of a fish. I felt it as a child. I started to feel it, slowly, on the other side of the border. With every new home Lillith brought me to. With every hour I spent away from the Council Lands and the Republic and near Sarafyna.

  I know because I remember wearing red, tired eyes. I remember the throbbing of a tired body after a night of shivering with sobs. I remember something turning my head from the inside and changing my mind. But all of these memories are blood from a numb wound. I can’t grasp the actual feeling that caused them. I can’t wrap my mind around it. As soon as it fades, the memory of it fades as well. Every time. But I can feel it’s absence. I can feel the pressure like the swelling of a welt. I can feel the need for it, even if I don’t remember it. I am desperate for it, but it recedes whenever I reach out to embrace it, leaving me with nothing but hollow rage. Directionless rage, for years, now largely pointed at the sages. I can't remember why. My mind isn’t my own. But I remember the certainty that they deserve it, and I will let that carry me.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” An Ailur guard calls as I brazenly open the door to the announcer’s box. This room is actually inside and nearly at ground level, housing the announcer with half a dozen sound and light mages. They watch the fight through thick, enchanted, and one way glass while powering the artifacts used to broadcast the fight to the crowd. I can see through the glass, even from the doorway, and groan as I realize Lillith is no longer fighting gladiators, but Markus himself. I have to hurry. She will almost definitely die here if we don’t create an out for her now. I pull out a ribbon I haven’t worn since I was captured by Sara and flash it at the guard.

  “Ember, Guardian of Stone, it’s an emergency,” I reply coolly. This immediately shuts the guard up, and the men and women inside freeze as they hear my voice. The announcer turns around nervously but wearing a mask of confidence.

  “We aren’t at the border, what does a guardian want with us here?” he questions. I nod toward the fight, directing his attention to the dumbass currently wrapped in nexus vines.

  “Did the Gladiator Sage tell you this was a publicity stunt or something? Can’t you see that she’s actually managed to injure him?” I chide. He looks back at the fight as I continue. “That is the actual Lillith, the actual queen of demons in there.”

  “And she is about to die,” the announcer counters. “So I repeat, what is a guardian doing here, interfering with a sage’s affairs?” He seems to be growing more confident as the shock of my arrival wears off. I need to press, now.

  “He didn’t hire you for your wits, did he?” I sneer. “She’s not famous for being a demon. The legends and prophecies don’t warn of a lone woman competing in a public arena for sport. They tell a story about a woman with an army and a chimera on a leash. And you have been advertising their leader’s capture for a week.” His face pales as the realization settles on his shoulders.

  “B-but, she came here alone. The Sage said she’d have attacked with her army already if she could, but she didn’t!” he insists. I shake my head.

  “Demons don’t fight in an open field. They are cowards. Treacherous. They don’t attack combatants, but innocents! The Gladiator is right, but wrong at the same time. I was sent here by the Void himself. Her army is here already, and they plan to attack. She is here as a distraction, while her minions kill everyone in the stands as an act of terror,” I explain. Now the faces of the other human mages pail, as a volu’s feathers begin to molt and the Ailur guards hackles rise.

  “But there are four other sages here, they’ll protect everyone! Her army can’t handle four sages!” He protests further but I shake my head.

  “They are focused on supporting the Gladiator and preventing further interference like last week’s. These attacks, they’ll have killed us all before the sages know to shift their attention. You need to order an evacuation or everyone dies!” I insist. I start to grow irritated as the mages in the room look at each other skeptically, but, just in time, the twins actually come through. Not completely useless after all, it seems. It took them longer than discussed, but the smell of smoke starts to fill the air. A moment later the noise outside the room grows louder, and the sound of panicked voices can be made out. “Order the evacuation before it’s too late!” I scold, lecturing the fool of a man. My words are followed quickly by a scream, indicating a greater level of effectiveness than I expected, and the room finally shifts gears as the announcer calls for an evacuation.

  “E-everyone, this is an emergency announcement, we need all viewers to make their way to the nearest exit in an orderly fashion,” he begins, speaking into a wireframe whisper sphere that broadcasts his voice to the entire arena. I’d like a bigger distraction with a little more panic, but Lillith would probably throw a fit if anyone got hurt from too urgent an evacuation. I roll my eyes and turn to leave so I can contribute to the confusion, but pause.

  Markus doesn’t respond at all. “Can they not hear you in the arena?” I ask. The announcer shakes his head.

  “I- I didn’t think you’d want the Demon Queen to hear,” he protests and I growl. Markus hearing is half the point, I need to give her a chance to escape. Except . . . she seems to have the upper hand now. I tilt my head and narrow my pupils as she escapes the vines and attacks Markus again. Is one of her half-assed plans actually working to kill a sage? I almost can’t believe it. Except I am saving her for a reason, I suppose. Somehow it remains an irritating thought.

  I am about to bully the man into announcing the evacuation so Lillith can hear when a new type of vine, or tree-root, or something of the sort grabs both combatants and an explosion of white mana and black nexus energy obliterates a huge chunk of the arena wall.

  The Void Sage is here.

  Autumn

  My heart races as August keeps watch. He and I have been so distracted these last few days, trying to track down any information we can on the theft of grief, we’ve had to rely on Ember’s planning for today. A fact the angry cat chided us for the entire way here. It’s a better plan than I could have come up with, and one which reveals great trust for Lillith under all that contempt. She expects, if given enough opportunity and distraction, that Lillith will make it back to her gate on her own and we can meet her there. She thought of a disguise and some kind of perfume or something we apparently need to avoid Ailur guards, as well as a dozen other details. August and I only have one part to play, and I’m not certain we are up for it.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  I take a deep breath as I wedge the enchanted stones she’s given us into the cracks of long faded stone on the exterior wall. Apparently, with a little fire mana, these will explode. Fire just happens to be my specialty, especially since Lily taught me how to combine aspects to maintain it with less mana. I am still a weak mage, especially for the standard I have seen in the republic. But if Ember had forgotten that she’d have stopped reminding me of it so frequently, so it must detonate with very little.

  “Are we sure about this?” August asks as I stand fully and start walking in the other direction. I feel like I’m made of tree bark with the rigidity of my movements, an ailment unique to times when I am trying to look casual. I sigh, and pull Lillith’s glasses from my bag. She tends to use goggles more, which have likely been confiscated by now, which means she left these in her pack.

  “We have to try something,” I respond nervously. “And at least we can make sure there are no casualties.”

  “Can we, though?” He presses. “We couldn’t exactly test these out to see how wide the explosion was. I don’t want to hurt anyone, and Lillith will shit if we get a bystander killed while helping her.” The colorful metaphor actually stokes a dying ember inside me. A fond amusement at my friend. The woman I’d hoped would be my sister, of a sort. I give him a half smile.

  “She really would,” I chuckle, before the memories of her leaving us alone, leaving Henry to die, drown the charm of the thought. My feeble smile falls into a weary rest. “I don’t want to hurt anyone either. Which is why we came here, where we can give the stones even more room than Ember suggested. There will be no one anywhere near us when they go off.”

  “But won’t that defeat the purpose?” August worries. He’s not wrong. Fewer people will panic when the far side of the wall takes a little aesthetic damage, but . . .

  “It will have to do. No one will ever die to my thoughtlessness again. I’d rather do too little and need to try again than let anyone lose a loved one because of me,” I respond. He nods in appreciation.

  “I suppose so,” he agrees, and I send my mana out with a burst to activate the stones. I look past all the confusing colors of the glasses, needing only the information that there is no one just on the other side of the wall I plan to detonate. I’ve never been much of a combatant. It’s not who I was raised to be, and magic was more of a signifier of my house’s standing than anything back in Potestia. As such it’s a strain, creating such a thin stream of fire over a distance. It needs to be controlled and subtle, so I have to use pure fire mana. Unlike Lily, my mana is no stronger now than when I was fourteen; only my control and skill has grown. It takes great focus and all the energy I have. With every inch I feel the temptation to waver. I constantly feel consciousness attempt to flee, like those moments of reading just before sleep.

  August puts his hand on my shoulder and steadies me. He can’t effectively offer me his mana, but the support alone runs through me like an electric shock. I bite my lip and push. I picture Lily’s face. It makes me so angry and so desperate. As much as I don’t want to see her, I miss her. After a week I miss her. I count on her and I love her. My muscles start to ache as the mana they usually carry drains from me. I get so angry when I see her recently. Because, of the people I have to blame for the death of my . . . it’s easier to give her at least some of the anger. But it’s always her voice I hear every morning. Hers and Henry’s, when the world seems too gray and empty to wade into. When my mind wanders back to that tower and the peace a step over the edge promised.

  “What did you say?” August asks. I am whispering it, over and over. I didn’t even realize. I am almost there; I just need one more burst of energy.

  “One more day,” I say, just loud enough that my brother can hear me. Then my mana makes contact and the enchantments ignite, lighting the entire world up with fire. At least, that’s what it feels like this close to the explosion. To Ember’s credit, the blast is almost exactly as large as she said it would be. So much so that I worry our caution has made the distraction too small to warrant an evacuation. Perhaps any explosion will do, but with four sages on standby, they may decide to handle this without alerting the public. Of course, that’s where Ember comes in. Still, there was a reason this part of the plan was necessary.

  I don’t worry long, however, as a series of companion explosions ring out moments later. There are half a dozen of them. They are just like the explosion I caused, but . . . everywhere. “W-what happened,” I ask. August looks at me wearing the same shocked confusion I do.

  “D-did we do all of that?” he responds with his own question.

  “No, those were us,” a man says from behind us. I jump, pulling off the glasses which likely would have warned me of his presence had I any practice with them. My brother and I both turn on our heels in an instant, gaping at the intrusive voice. A tall, cocky man smirks at us. “Don’t worry, we’re on your side. We’ve had our eye on you for a while, especially the last few days. We’re here to help,” he continues, answering a few questions before we can ask. He leaves quite a few, however.

  “Who are you?” I ask, unable to keep the fear from my voice. August grips my shoulder again, fully prepared to pull us away if needed.

  “The Republic calls us cultists,” he answers. “But we don’t have any such organization. We like to think of ourselves as more of an . . . ideology. A bunch of like minds with the will to fight. And we’d like to fight with you, if you are interested.” August and I share a look. For the first time in weeks, we have a conversation with our eyes alone. One that only a twin could understand.

  We don’t know if they were as careful as us. We don’t know if every innocent person is safe. We do know that they insured our plan was more effective. We don’t know if we are safe. We do know that we need to get out of here and meet up with Lillith, and in this moment we could use the help. And, if they are augmenting our plan and have been watching us, they likely want to free her as well. But they could want to free her in order to capture her themselves. On the other hand, Ember is counting on us and this person, or these people are going to follow us whether we like it or not. We look back at the interloper. Before we can come to a conclusion there is another explosion. A massive one composed of white mana I can see erupt over the wall, even from the other side of the coliseum. I have no idea what that is, and just the sight of it draws sweat from me. Even the stranger looks surprised, but suppresses it a moment later.

  “We have to go save our friend,” August says, rapidly coming to a decision as the situation grows more urgent. “We’d welcome more help with that, but that’s where we are going either way.” I nod. I don’t know if we can trust them, but we are already in the thick of it. We don’t have time to interrogate each other and we have to keep moving. The man composes himself and smiles at us.

  “We’d be happy to,” he agrees. He then pulls out a whisper sphere and makes a call. “Archer, I’ve made contact with the twins, we’ll meet up on the way to the asset.” I feel nervous with the sudden intrusion into our plan. I look at the excessive smoke in the sky. Lily will know what to do. August and I share one last apprehensive look, but as the man discusses the mana explosion neither of us caused over his sphere, we all silently agree to move, running to meet up with Ember at Lillith’s gate.

  I watch the stranger’s back the entire way, my heart beating out of my chest. Where did these people come from? How long had they been watching us? What do we do if we can’t trust them and they attack Lily? Do we attract a sage and try to pit them against each other? Or will they both attack us? What if I am getting in over my head again? What if I am making the same mistake and, in an instant, August is just . . . gone? What if, what if, what if. My breathing grows shallow as we run, and run, and jostle past a growing crowd of fleeing patrons.

  I can’t lose someone else, but what is the greater risk? Trusting these strangers or trying to do this on our own? What if they waited until now to introduce themselves so we wouldn’t have a choice but to work with them? Watching us for a while? What does that mean? How much danger are we in? What do we do? I keep picturing Henry’s face, in that final moment. That resignation and all the guilt that followed. And then, in an instant and without warning, I feel empty. Like something has been taken away from me. Some pain I don’t understand and can’t picture. Something foreign but familiar. Something I need.

  My eyes dry and I grow numb, my panic receding in a single breath. I don’t know what happened, but the sages finally got to me. I can’t remember the feeling, but I know its name. My grief is gone.