SWORD ACADEMY (censored)

I volley a feral groan. “Why do you keep trying to piss me off?”

“Why do you keep not being pissed off?” Nick backwinds, looking suspiciously pleased I broke the silence embargo halfway through our walk to the underground chamber.

“Oh, I’m pissed,” I lie.

I’m tired from not sleeping, but I’m not mad. I’m actually just sad, and lonely, and homesick, and maybe a little hungry because I didn’t eat my breakfast. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I want Asher’s breakfasts.

“Yes, but I want you to be really, really pissed.”

“Well, I am really, really pissed,” I dryfire, “and you’re really, really freaking annoying. You need to cool your jerkwad jets.”

I know what he’s trying to do. He wants to de-ice the plane which he thinks might make my notvacation more pleasant. Not just me. All of his charges get the same treatment. Only, I’m not like any of these squibs. Sure, they’re mad or sad or lonely, but I’m certain none of them want to go home as badly as I do. What I have with my family is precious, priceless, and rarer than the spark forcing me away from them. Their absence leaves such a hole in my heart it aches. So, regardless of his well-intended efforts, Nick won’t make this any kind of pleasant, and honestly, I reckon he can’t even make it tolerable.

“I want to wind you up so my air spark can unwind you,” he finally admits. “It likes dispelling tornados.”

“You want to mess with my emotions without consent?” I quickfire.

He drags his brow. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound as good as it does in my head.”

“We’re moving toward the Healing Sect,” Elaina explains. “We aren’t used to our efforts coming with quite so much…turbulence.”

I shrug, and I can literally see Nick’s lip quivering from my emotional drawbridge slamming back up. But he quickly recovers by moving on to gather the other charges around him. I click a sigh when Elaina hangs back. It’s harder to be curt with her. She reminds me too much of Asher with a softness I’d fight to the death to shield.

“We’re trying to understand you,” Elaina tries again. “You’re not exactly an open book.”

“It’s a waste of time,” I slamfire, “for me and you.”

“It’s really not.” Her warm smile invokes the tiniest tug of guilt. “I know it seems like that for most…for many…but we’re really hoping to change that perspective. We want to see improvement in how this entire process functions, and we fought for this position to lead the charges as a means to that end. We want to be here for you, for all of you.”

“Well, I’m not interested in being your social experiment,” I scoff.

When her lips downdraft, my guilt niggles more forcefully. “I just want to go home.”

“You will,” she chimes reassuringly.

I try to reach for the solace in that truth. Four more sleeps. I can surely survive four more sleeps.

“Pissing me off won’t make me want to go home less,” I accurize.

She chinkles her chimes, a soft musical laugh that forces the tension from my shoulders. “Anger is the easiest to navigate. Strong emotions are clearly visible and can be clearly managed. As we grow with this sectional, we’ll get better at navigating more complex emotions.”

“You know what else is a strong emotion?” I fire back. “Love or joy. You really need to stop playing mental health solitary.”

“That’s good advice,” she pings.

She turns toward Nick when he begins speaking to the group, seeming conflicted about whether to go to him or stay with me.

“Giddy-the-heck-up then,” I shoo her away, heading a little closer myself but making sure I’m still the furthest from the front.

I cross my arms over my chest, resisting the urge to plant my hands on my hips and just scowl at them. The charges are trying to pay attention to them speaking their encouragements, but curiosity is getting the better of them. They keep looking at the gaping rainbow vortex in the center of the room resting atop a large wooden platform. It’s a perfect circle with a thick outer rim that’s half white and half black. Inside the rim, the center of the ring looks alive, swirling with a rainbow of energy which I assume are the spark elements.

Nick follows our gaze and takes off. “That’s the Spark Ring.”

Elaina speaks next. “You’ll walk through the ring and wake the spark within you that’s been sleeping until now.”

Nick flies on. “For some of you, the spark will stay awake. For others, it’ll find the endless sleep.”

The ring is a defibrillator. They’re going to shock the spark awake, and it might live or it might die in the process. No one speaks for several minutes like they’re absorbing the true significance of this moment for the first time. Spark life or death. That’s what the ceremony offers. Absolute balance.

I look around the room at the four separate groups. Ours is the only one to have two leaders. It has to be due to their weird connection that makes them more of a unit than an individual. There are about eighty-eight charges in the room in total, meaning only four in the whole dang place will end up sparkling. Good odds for any game. I find myself anxious to get it over with.

Everyone gapes at me when I break the silence. “So, all I have to do is walk through that giant rainbow vortex, and I’m done with this crap shoot?”

“No,” Elaina tinks warmly. “Over the next few days, as we mentioned before, your spark will be weighed until full saturation occurs.”

“But once we’ve saturated, we’re done, right? All done. No more horsecrap ceremonies or kidnappings or retries for ignition?”

Elaina whizzes up a brow in question, but Nick catches on quickly to my train of thought. “If you don’t sparkle at the point of saturation, you can leave, even before the end of the week.”

There are cheers and grumbles in equal measure around me, but I’m definitely on the cheer squad this time.

Head.

Freaking.

Cheerleader.

If I can shake the dead spark dust off me quick enough, I might even find myself in my own bed before nightfall. Zero sleeps!

“When can we start?” I ask eagerly.

“When you’re ready,” Elaina offers, and suddenly there’s a barrage of questions.

“Won’t there be a speech?”

“Do we have to recite a vow to the spark?”

“Should we bow to the light and dark?”

“Are the Royals coming to watch?”

“Is it being recorded for posterity?”

“No to all of that. You just have to…” Nick whitetrails, “walk through the ring.”

“You should wait until you’re ready,” Elaina whirlwinds.

“How will we know we’re ready?” Fiona squeaks.

I draw in a long breath. How long or short this wait period is will vary greatly by charge. I scan the room again. Even those excited before look scared now. It’s going to hurt like the worst pain we’ve ever experienced in our lives. On top of that, there truly is a significance in knowing one hundred percent whether you sparkle or not.

Still, that five percent chance for ignition is a dream come true for me, the unlikely probability of me winding up sparkling giving me tingles. And I don’t mind being the first. There’s power in that, a semblance of control these squibs have taken from me in every other way.

“Is there a line or something I need to stand in?” I ask.

Nick yaws his head.

I roll my shoulders and step forward but am stalled by the sound of a swelling voice to our left.

“You’re going through that ring on your own two feet, or I’m throwing your stern through!” he billows.

“Who’s that?” I point to the man berating his charges. They look like they might be ready to crap themselves if they haven’t already.

“That’s Luke. He’s a water wielder,” Nick says with some serious salt in his tone, like that explains everything I need to know about the white horse wave across the room.

“His waves are full of piss and vinegar.”

“Yeah, he’s always really, really pissed,” he sputters.

I’ve seen that kind of animosity in my life as a regular occurrence. Unjustified rage bubbling over the surface and spilling out to scald everyone in the vicinity. Unforgivable reactions that should forge an uncrossable chasm. Yet, I’m always forgiven. My family carries on building every bridge I selfishly destroy. I’m the monstrous white horse wave in my family, and looking at myself in someone else stirs something in me.

“Go undrain his tub before it overflows,” I press.

“That wild wave cannot be surfed,” Nick tailslides.

Luke continues to spit curses at his charges, and when he swashes one of them upside the head, the clockwise stirring in my heart rotates counter clockwise. My feet are stomping in his direction faster than Nick or Elaina can get hold of me. I step between Luke and the battered charge, snarling like a wild animal. He glares at me through blue rings with swirling white flecks, flaring his nostrils like a moron.

“Do you have a rusty nail in your foot or what?” I roar.

He doesn’t dignify me with a response, but his rigid posture tells me just how much he appreciates my question. So, I do the only logical thing there is to do. I lay the heck into him. “These people, for the most part, didn’t ask to be here. They’re absolutely terrified and confused, and you’re verbally and physically assaulting them like some crusty crab?”

When he takes a step forward, I reach my hand up and jam my index finger in his hard chest, poking out each word. “Stop. Being. A. Jerkwad.”

He shoves into my finger to intimidate me, but I’m not scared of him. I turn around to his charges, completely putting him at my back to show exactly how intimidated I’m not.

“If you want to go over there with our group, we have some real soft pillows for leaders named Nick and Elaina. You can sit your scared sacks down on them and listen to some cheesy pep talks while they braid your hair to gear you up for that ring walk. You might have to be here, but you don’t have to take this slug behaviour from White Horse over here for a single second.”

I can practically feel Luke’s eyes funnelling a hole in my spine from behind me, but I don’t give him a single second more of my attention.

“We’re all getting tossed one way or another,” I snick, “but you don’t have to be thrown through like you’re a piece of garbage.”

More than half Luke’s charges follow me when I storm away. It feels like some small victory over our oppressors.

“I found stray dogs,” I report, meeting Nick and Elaina’s worried gaze.

They don’t question me or tell me I broke some secret rule of engagement. Instead, they get busy with introductions followed by calm encouragements to ease out some of the fear Luke poured into them.

I look over to the ring. No one’s in line. No one’s moving toward it at all. Some people have turned away, unable to bear looking at it. I roll my shoulders again and pull every single bit of love I feel for my family to the surface. I’ll carry them through with me, their love strengthening my heart like impenetrable armour to protect me from any pain this dolt doles out.

Silence falls around me as everyone turns to watch. They want to see what this gaping rainbow vortex will do to me before they let it swallow them. Not so much as a heckle comes from the crowd as I start up the platform steps.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

I pause before the ring, awed by its enormity. The contained sparks are a rainbow whirlpool of energy. They tug me forward, a magnet trying to suck me into the abyss.

I cling to my love for my family. For Adley. For Asher. For Atlas. For Archie. For Dad. They’re all with me, fused to my soul in glorious balance.

I intend to step through the expanse quickly as if that single desire of not wanting to linger might further reduce my ignition odds, but as I enter the inner ring, time slows around me in defiance of my wants. For the first, single second I feel nothing. No pull or push. Certainly no pain. But that doesn’t last. In the next second, electric energy slams into my heart, a surge of lightning that branches out, burning, ripping, and tearing through every single vein. Every nerve ending aches. Every cell is alive yet longs for death to relieve the pain.

I’m lit on fire, vacuumed out completely, washed clean, and rebuilt from scratch, like everything I ever was never really existed at all. I’m blinded by a light so intense it burns out my surroundings, a blizzard of white so pure I can’t even see myself. Then a rolling darkness sweeps through, curtaining my soul in the embrace of absolutely nothing, swallowing me entirely.