When we returned to camp, Jake was cutting vegetables for the midday meal, chatting with some of the soldiers who’d been assigned to meal prep. Alicia was also there, ‘helping,’ though she seemed out of it, slowly slicing the vegetables in the air as she sat with her hands on her chin. Occasionally, she’d lean over and whisper something into Jake’s ear, and he would mumble something back in return.

  Upon noticing us, Jake ran up to his instructor and gave a bow. “Sorry, instructor. I shouldn’t have slept in.”

  “It’s okay,” said Instructor Elizabeth. “Iris handled things fine in your absence. Were you able to get the rest that you needed?”

  “Yes. I’m feeling better now.” He noticed the overcoat draped across her shoulders and frowned. “What happened?”

  The soldiers started murmuring among themselves. Instructor Elizabeth bit her lip. “Later, Jake. For now, let’s focus on what’s ahead of us. Lunch. Sharing a new recipe with the soldiers? It smells delicious.”

  He chuckled. “Right. Right. Yeah, it’s a new recipe I’m trying. If we’re going to be stuck eating plain rations for a week, I’m going to go crazy. So a few things here and there to spice things up can’t hurt.” He turned to me. “Oh, and, before I forget—thank you, Iris. For covering for me.”

  I smiled. “No problem, Jake. You don’t need to thank me for this. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Still, behind his smile, there were bags under his eyes. And Alicia didn’t look much better.

  “You alright?” I asked her.

  She turned to look at me. “Yeah. I’m fine. I talked things out this morning with Jake, again. And I... everything will be okay.”

  “Are you sure? Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you? We have some time before our afternoon lessons.”

  She considered my words for a few moments, tilting her head from side to side before answering. “Well, in that case...”

  ***

  It had been some time since I’d last posed for Alicia’s sketching, although I’d often done so during our academy days. It had just been so hard to find the time between our crammed schedules in the intervening years. Often we’d only see each other at Solstice, and even then only intermittently between formal events and dinners and festival processions. To simply have the time to sit on the edge of the bed and let her sketch me felt almost luxurious.

  “It’s been a while, hasn’t it,” she said with a smile, as if reading my mind. She sharpened her pencil and tapped the eraser against her lip. “I feel so... rusty.”

  “Rusty? After all the drawing you were up to yesterday?”

  “That was different,” she said. “That was more like... aggressive meditation. For my well-being. Under Instructor Saul’s direction. That was work.”

  “And this?”

  She chuckled, “This is all for me.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a brand new notebook. Because she’d filled out the other notebook yesterday. She paused for a moment, her own mind retracing those same thoughts. “You saw the sketches inside the notebook yesterday, right?”

  I nodded. “They were well drawn, as always. Your artistic talent always shines through. But—”

  “But you didn’t like what I drew,” she said. The room was silent. Even the scratching of her pencil had stopped. “Right? I hope so.”

  She hoped so? “Is that what you saw inside the Cradle?” I asked.

  She nodded. “That’s not the least of it, Iris. The illusions in there move and shift and roil endlessly. Waves on the sea, swirling around you from all sides, just to torment you. Just to convince you to leave, to wander, to step into the ocean of scales. A personalized hell for you. For me. But to step off...”

  “To step off would be so much worse,” I finished. “Oh, Alicia...”

  “Sit down! You’ll ruin the drawing!”

  “Let me give you a hug first.”

  “No.” She laughed. “Sit down. Hugs later.”

  I sat back down on the mat. Alicia walked over, repositioning my hands and legs into the same pose that I’d been sitting in prior, humming quietly to herself all the while.

  She sat back down. “But it’s nice to sketch something pretty, for a change. In general. Not just after yesterday. It’s depressing out there, you know. When it’s just me and Instructor Saul, all we see is hopelessness and desolation, being swallowed up by this beautiful, deadly, Corruption. It’s beautiful, but tragic. It gets me down. Our enemy is winning.” She bit her lip. “Seeing you again reminds me of what we’re trying to save.”

  “Who’s being melodramatic now?”

  “I’m serious!”

  “I know.” Our tent was silent again, save for the sound of her pencil against paper. “Can I see yet?”

  “No peeking until it’s finished.”

  “Fine.” I tried my best to keep still as she sketched. The scratching of her pencil was the only sound for a long time. I kept wondering what was going through her head. We may have had the connection above all, our bond as partners, but even so, things could be oddly distant.

  Especially now.

  Especially after so many months of sunlight draining, of Corruption spreading across the landscape. I felt like it had drained the love and life from everything. Even from the way we had connected. That night out in the forest with ritual and idle chatter had been lovely. In our early years, fresh from the academy, our days had been filled with moments such as those. Thinking about it now, all we’d managed to capture that night was the tiniest flicker of those dying flames.

  And now there was the Cradle, too. And, to be honest, I was a little jealous. Only Alicia and Jake had gone inside. They had a shared experience that I couldn’t understand, yet. And I knew that had happened before, but this time...

  This time it was different. It was personal. And the thoughts kept creeping into my mind. What had they been doing as I’d entered the tent yesterday? What had they been talking about, working through, that I could not be a part of? Weren’t Alicia and I partners? Weren’t we supposed to share everything? And deep down, there it was. The itching feeling that there was something that I couldn’t provide. That my companionship wasn’t enough. That something would happen, that we’d be separated, or even drift apart.

  Ugh. It wasn’t good to let this melancholic mood sweep over me. Just two nights ago, we’d been happily sharing snacks beneath the starlight, and now even that was growing clouded by uncertainty. I focused my gaze back on her, watching her pencil trace the lines of my body, gently shading my clothes as the light hit them. My heartbeat dropped back to normal. The wave of unease dissipated, because I remembered that those fears were completely baseless. Things would never turn out like that. We would be together forever. And we would both make sure of that.

  “You’re smiling again.”

  “I am?”

  “Thanks, Iris.”

  “Thanks?”

  “For being my model. I was a little worried. You seemed a little on-edge, and I wanted you to relax a little. So thank you for smiling again.” Even now, Alicia had been doing this for me. She was so wonderful. I got up, trying to give her a hug again.

  Jonathan leaned into our tent. “Girls, I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Please come out now.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  My instructor smiled. “Emily’s back.”

  ***

  Emily.

  Her pink, wavy hair was dishevelled, her uniform muddy and slick with ice, her breaths ragged as she stumbled down the path. But it was Emily. In her fist, she clutched a bundle of steel needles, her Complement caked in blood and tarnished from wear.

  “Ha!” She cried out in victory. “Two days early! I knew we could do it.”

  The rest of her group slowly crested the hill behind her, a row of dull grey uniforms not nearly as battered as Emily’s, though each of them seemed far less enthusiastic, shuffling along at a glacial pace and throwing down their packs in relief.

  “Jake!” Emily ran to her partner, leaping into his arms with a bone-crushing embrace. “Surprise! I made it back in time for Solstice.”

  “You’re... icy.” He held her at arms length. Her jacket was frozen, bits of ice flaking off and shattering against the ground. Despite how cold she must have been, she didn’t shiver at all. Jake pulled her closer again, eyes glowing golden as he warmed her up.

  “Just a bit icy,” she said with a smile. “I fell into the river a few times trying to find a safe place to cross. But it was all worth it to see you a little faster.”

  “And the blood?”

  Her eyes glinted with their signature, almost sinister, silver glow. “There were some Excaeli along the way. A few dozen. A few hundred. What’s the difference, am I right? Annoying little pests. It’s all the same. Just more busy work.” She tossed her needles in the air, and they began to circle her head slowly, like a crown, before disappearing one by one into her hair. “None of the blood is ours. And I got us here in the end, anyways, even if some of the soldiers are a bit spooked.”

  “Yes, you did get us here.” Instructor Irene was the last of the group to cross the hilltop. She walked down the slope without slipping, not even using her hands for balance as she stepped between loose stones and icy outcrops down into the camp. In stark contrast to everyone else, her uniform was dry and spotless, sky-blue jacket buttoned all the way up to her chin. Her hair was tied, as it always was, into a pair of short braids that rested on her shoulders. Her Complement simply hovered in the air behind her, a set of rings that coalesced into a polished steel chain before slowly disappearing down the back of her coat. “And I am very proud of you, Emily.” Her words, like everything about her, had a precision to it. Every word, every syllable, was perfectly formed, not a second too long or too short as they tumbled out from between her lips. “Well? What are you all standing around and waiting for?” she quipped. “Set up your tents. We are late, and there is still much to do.”

  The rest of their group removed their packs and unzipped them. Canvas, poles, and ropes quickly filled the air, completing the rest of the camp in orderly fashion.

  As for Instructor Irene, she and our other instructors huddled together, talking in hushed voices as they disappeared behind the soft glow of the Cradle, filing one by one into Jonathan’s tent. As they passed us by, she gave me a silent nod of acknowledgement, tapping me on the shoulder to move aside for them.

  They had more important things to deal with.

  ***

  The evening meal had a cheerful atmosphere. Jake and Emily were far from the only ones who had been separated these past few days. The soldiers were boisterous, shouting and cheering loudly as they shared stories and remembered the fallen. Jonathan had allotted an additional half-ration for everyone to keep our spirits running high in anticipation for the coming Solstice.

  It had been years since all four of us had met together like this. Usually at least one of us would be missing when we saw each other at the formal Solstice celebrations back at the Citadel. Away from home, the odds of crossing paths were even slimmer. Indeed, we probably hadn’t shared a meal together since our time at the academy. I remembered those days fondly, especially those idyllic weeks of rest after our selection, as we waited to leave to share our Patron’s light with the dark world beyond. We’d spent those days training with our new instructors, and the evenings eating together, playing games, and simply enjoying each others’ company.

  Of course, Jake was the most energized by the return of his partner. It felt like forever since I’d seen him smile like this, beaming with admiration as Emily shared the past few years’ adventures with Alicia and me.

  “We faced our fair share of storms on the rift,” she said, “It was already a nightmare navigating the shallows and dead-iron reefs in the day, much less at night. But when a storm whipped up from the southwest, the waves would tower above our ships, crashing over the deck with great roars, as if Antares herself was trying to keep us away from her rocky shores. But ultimately we were the ones who prevailed.”

  “And the islanders?” asked Alicia.

  Emily frowned. “Many of the islands were already abandoned and overrun, and the precious few that weren’t are slowly succumbing. Where once the Rift was lit up like the starry sky each night, now the beacons flicker and fade. Only a handful remain active. We had to cauterize entire islands to slow the spread.”

  “I wish for once there was any good news,” muttered Alicia. “Nothing of the sort from where we were. A whole summer spent walking the edge of the Corruption, burning what we could. We scoured so many ghost towns for survivors.”

  “Did you find any?” asked Jake.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  Alicia paused just too long for comfort. “A few. And, well, you can guess what happened next.”

  Purified. Because no way anyone who had lived on the front for that long had remained pure. Not without a body readied for combat from years of training, with a roaring flame burning inside, stoked by Polaris’s hand and honed to perfection. No, for those poor souls who were not chosen, the Corruption quickly left its mark: first in the cuts, and then in the scales that ate you from the inside out. “We’ll have good news soon,” I said.

  “That’s right,” said Emily. “I’m here. And so we can get back on track.” She looked at me with her silver eyes, glowing nearly white in the evening darkness. So similar and yet so unlike Alicia’s, which were soft and calm, Emily’s gaze was filled with determination. She lifted and flicked the needles of her Complement into the snowy ground, pulling them out of the earth with her fingers before stabbing them back in one by one. “We can go inside and finish this business with Antares once and for all.”

  “Right,” I said.

  “Yes...” Alicia and Jake seemed hesitant to affirm the sentiment. Their eyes darted from place to place, locking with each other momentarily only to break eye contact again right after. Jake started to mumble something, but Alicia interrupted. “I know that you’ll do great.” Her quivering voice have the opposite impression.

  “I... I’m glad it’ll be the two of you,” said Jake. “And not either of us.” Alicia nodded in agreement.

  “Because you fell inside yesterday?” asked Emily. Jake said nothing. “I was so worried about you both, you know. I’m just glad you’re safe.” She embraced them both.

  “I think it’ll be easier for you. To go inside, that is. It was just jarring to enter the Cradle in such a sudden way,” said Jake.

  “Then we’ll have nothing to fear,” said Emily. “And honestly, I don’t think you do either. You both emerged in one piece. That alone is a testament to your strength. If anything, you now know even better what awaits inside, and how to fight it. I almost wonder if it’d be better if you went in our stead.”

  Though both our partners smiled weakly, neither said so much as a word in agreement. The pictures Alicia had sketched in the book came to mind once more, the twisted images of ourselves overlaying themselves on top of the scene before my eyes. I could understand her hesitance. But what of Jake’s? Was it driven by the same fears? Wouldn’t he have been afraid of his own partner, then?

  The heavy silence was broken by more lighthearted topics. “How’s your family?” Emily asked me. Okay. Perhaps not quite so lighthearted.

  “Mother and father are in good health,” I said, trying not to scowl. I was not very good at not-scowling.

  “Oh, don’t be so rude,” Jake chided. “Your sisters were very friendly, as always, when I was back in the Citadel. I had them over for tea. Lovely young ladies.”

  “My sisters... they’re fine, I guess. But my parents... I’m just sick of them. Sick of their empty gifts.” I rolled my eyes. “Now that I’ve made something of myself, all of a sudden they’ve always supported me, always loved me, always believed in my potential. All of a sudden I’m their favourite.” As if. As if they hadn’t thrown me out like the garbage they thought I was.

  “You’re going to have to get over it sooner or later,” said Emily. “They’re being nice to you. Indulge them a bit. Let them spoil you.” She grinned. “At the very least, they’re useful to have on your side. And I’m sure your father would love to have you visit when you’re in town.”

  “He’s not my father.”

  “What, and Instructor Jonathan is?” Jake teased.

  “Jake—” Alicia started.

  “That was just once!” I felt myself blushing. I mean, yeah, I’d tried to get him to adopt me. Once. Or twice. “And I was twelve, okay?”

  Alicia grinned. “Or should I remind you who wanted to keep an Excaeli as a pet when he was twelve?”

  It was Jake’s turn to go red in the face. “Okay, fine. That was... maybe a bit too far. Sorry Iris.”

  “What do you two care about my family, anyways? It’s my business. You guys wouldn’t understand. Your parents actually love you.”

  “That’s not what this is about,” said Emily.

  “Then what is it about?”

  “It’s about making the mature choice, Iris,” said Emily. “To bear with their failings, not for yourself, but as an example for the other Luminare. For the Novatican children that look up to you so.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but the kids are just going to have to learn that sometimes your birth family sucks. Sometimes it’s not even worth humouring them. I’d be absolutely nothing without Polaris, and I don’t need anything besides what she’s provided. My training, my instructor, my friends... everything comes from her.”

  Emily sighed, but smiled nonetheless. “Okay. How’s your family, Alicia?”

  “They’re doing well. Thanks for asking. The bakery is... well, these are hard times, but we’re managing. Everyone’s in good health ad sends their love. And cookies.” She opened up the half-eaten tin of cookies from a few nights ago and lay it between the four of us.

  “They’re very good cookies,” said Jake, taking a bite.

  Alicia beamed. “They’ll be glad to hear that.”

  I didn’t really want to listen to them talking about family. My mind wandered, and my gaze drifted to our instructors. They sat in a closed circle, too, all of them smiling and embracing, talking softly as they shared their stories and reminisced about their past. I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d be in their shoes in a decade or two, old friends that had stuck together through a turbulent youth and had come out stronger, closer, wiser.

  “Iris.” Jake tapped me on the shoulder, noticing my gaze. “Are you wondering what I am? If they felt the same as us, when they were here, long ago? Before everything that happened.”

  Jonathan had spoken with me of a lot of things that had happened when he was my age. He’d regaled me with stories of the last wave of purification, about Magdalene and their other instructors, about their escapades and adventures together, and yet... Jonathan would always stop short of talking about what had happened before the Cradle, all those years ago. Instead, he’d always look away and say he’d rather not talk about it. “The time wasn’t right,” I said.

  “It was the middle of the purification,” said Emily, picking up on the conversation. “And the four of them were here, gathered before the Cradle. Ready to dismantle it. But before they could...”

  Antares. The word was left unspoken, but it clawed its way into our minds. The dread Patron Antares had come, had attacked them, but more than that.

  “Instructor Irene was never the same again,” Jake muttered.

  Despite Jonathan’s refusal to speak of what had happened, it was obvious that she had changed. In all his stories she had been the most outgoing of the group, always laughing and fooling around. In all my years knowing her, I’d never so much as seen her smile. The thought of her telling a joke was laughable in and of itself. She sat rather stiffly among our instructors, not really seeming to engage with them even as they smiled and hugged her.

  Emily nodded, taking another cookie from the tin. She snapped it in half, handing one piece to her partner before slipping the other into her mouth. “She was changed, yes. But they all were. And... we might be too.”

  “Or already have been,” said Jake. Alicia’s eyes widened for a moment, glancing around despite the fact nobody was watching.

  “Or already have been,” I echoed, putting a hand on my partner’s shoulder. “But let’s not worry about that. We have the map. We will succeed. The culmination of centuries of trials is upon us. The Cradle will fall. The Corruption will end. With Polaris’s gift reclaimed, light will finally be able to return to the world.”

  “You make it sound like such a big thing,” said Jake.

  “It is,” I said. “What we’re doing is important. We’re playing a part in the final battle between good and evil. Even as Luminare, fulfilling our Patron’s purpose, we are part of this. That’s exciting.”

  “It’s exciting, alright,” said Emily. “We’ll be legends.”

  “Legends!” Alicia echoed, laughing and raising her canteen in a mock toast.

  “Legends!” Each of us echoed, raising our canteens in turn and joining in the laughter. Though, at least from me, I knew the words were genuine. I understood who we really were.

  ***

  Uncle Saul took me and Emily aside to his tent after the meal. I’d expected as much: Uncle Saul always made sure we were on top of things, and now that Emily was back it was time to get to business.

  He unrolled the map on the table, revealing a labyrinth of gargantuan proportions. The paper was coarse and faded, lines drawn in charcoal criss-crossed with arrows and inked labels. A thick, silver line was traced in metallic paint, snaking through the maze toward the centre, which was marked with the symbol of Antares. The symbol felt particularly ominous after seeing it so often in Alicia’s drawings, its curved lines and horizontal slashes seeming especially violent against the background of the map.

  “This is what the Cradle looks like inside,” he said. “Vaguely. It changes constantly. But on the whole, this is the route permitted. Straying from the path will be... unpleasant. It reacts violently to trespassers. But I’m sure Alicia and Jake have already told you that.”

  We nodded. I’d certainly had some inkling of that already, but hearing the words from my uncle’s mouth gave the idea a much weightier sense to them. Yeah. It would be dangerous to stray from the path.

  Uncle Saul continued. “You will not be alone down there. There will be a third. One of the soldiers, as has been requested. Our original choice has withdrawn from the operation after yesterday’s events at the Cradle, alongside some... unforeseen tragic events from this morning. While unfortunate, I’m confident we’ll find someone who isn’t afraid to accompany you.”

  Coward. That soldier was too afraid, despite knowing that we would be with him. Emily and I, the best and brightest of the young Luminare. “I still don’t like having to bring them in,” I said. But the instructions said so. Our Patron said so.

  “Noted,” he said. “But Polaris knows best.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But..?”

  “I’d just feel more comfortable if the third person was someone strong, like, say, Jonathan.”

  “Iris.”

  “Instructor Jonathan,” I corrected.

  “Better. But you know why—”

  “I know why.” It had been written and requested. Novatica wouldn’t send us in without someone to keep an eye on us. “Why can’t they just trust us to do what needs to be done?”

  “It’s too late to change things. So it’s pointless to ask that question. The soldier won’t be doing anything too important. It is you from whom much more is being asked. They will just keep watch while you use your powers to manipulate the lock.”

  Right. The locks. My uncle slid a model of it onto the map. It was a small sphere, about the size of my fist, with a glass surface revealing an incredibly complex little machine inside. Countless gears and levers whirred inside of it, carrying the silver marbles that kept the whole thing running. The real thing would be much bigger, but the principle would be the same: careful application of my heat and light, along with Emily’s careful mental strings pulling at the pieces within, would unlock the device and open up the treasure within.

  “There are three locks within the Cradle,” he continued, tapping the three points on the map, each marked with a neat red circle, forming a triangle around the mark of Antares. “Tomorrow, you’ll be going for the first. The entire operation should take no more than an hour. Are both of you prepared? Iris?”

  We nodded. I still felt a vague sense of unease, but I pushed the thoughts away. There would be no room for doubt inside the Cradle.

  Emily’s eyes met mine and she smiled, squeezing my hand. I hadn’t realized I’d been shaking. “Nothing will go wrong tomorrow,” I said.

  “Yes,” Emily echoed. “We will be perfect. Nothing less is acceptable for Polaris.”

  ***

  It was late at night when I returned to the tent. The moon shone faintly through the dense clouds, while the Cradle seemed to glow even brighter than it had before. The blazing light cast long shadows over everything in the camp.

  I stepped inside. Alicia was still awake, sitting in our bed reading one of her dime novels. Her eyes glowed silver, just bright enough to illuminate the pages. She licked her fingers and turned another page.

  The pages. Of course. Between everything else, I’d completely forgotten about them. Alicia had sketched something and then torn it out, and I could only dread what had been on them. “Why did you rip the pages out of your notebook?” I asked.

  “Hm? Rip pages out of my notebook?” she asked. “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about.” She held up the notebook she’d been sketching in this afternoon, careful to hide the half-finished sketch of me.

  “Not that notebook. The other one. With all your drawings in it from yesterday? The one you told me to look at?”

  She slid a bookmark into her novel before setting it aside at the foot of the bed. “I didn’t tear any pages out of that.”

  “But... when I read it, there were some pages missing. Near the end.” I rummaged through my belongings, finally finding the notebook full of sketches and showing it to her. Sure enough, the pages near the end were still torn out, jagged bits of paper still bound to the spine where they’d been ripped.

  She yawned and turned over to go to sleep. “That’s odd. But we can figure this out tomorrow morning.”

  “Alicia—“

  But she was already asleep. Or maybe pretending? No way she could’ve fallen asleep so quickly. I shook her shoulder a few times, but she only laughed softly before turning away. I tried a few more times in vain to bring it up, but it seemed she just didn’t want to talk about it. Or maybe she really could fall asleep so quickly.

  Perhaps I should’ve slept that night as well.