SPARK: Dark Water Rising

Prologue

Omar paced relentlessly across Headmaster Stonehart's shadowy study. The dark of night had flooded the room and only the small flicker of a modest fire lit the towering man's path. With each step, he delved deeper wondering how things could have spiraled so out of control. He had always kept his child on a tight leash. Kept her grounded, surrounded by people who could guide her in the proper direction, and who would let him know when she strayed from the path he laid out for her. The problem with fate, however, is that it cannot be stopped no matter how carefully one attempts to plan around it.

Filivandr had told him just that eleven years prior. That night as he paced the ancient floors of Silverwood Academy, Omar worked hard the avoid the creaky old man's judgment and I-told-you-sos. He sat next to Stonehart, taking up the shadow just outside the flame's reach, watching Omar. Stroking his long white beard, he listened to every clunk the Archon made. Back and forth, back and forth like a tired old clock. From the beginning, Filivandr had advised against secrecy. She had a right to know who she was, especially after what had happened to her mother. After that, the Brotherhood could have protected her and guided her the traditional way. But Omar had always been a stubborn Alkeban bull.

"I won't accept it," he said finally stopping somewhere in the middle of the hole he was wearing into the floor. "I don't care what the fates say, she is not the one. I will not allow it." Omar barked the words with all his authority, but it made no difference to the gods. Filivandr gave a brisk sigh as he turned his runes over in his withered hands. Those little carved stones knew more than Omar could ever fathom.

"She is and always has been," Filivandr replied in the direction of Omar's continuing rhythmic stomps. "I told Ase this when the girl was born, and I told you once Ase was gone. This is her destiny."

Omar knew from his time at Silverwood, that Filivandr was a seasoned Spirit Mage who could see many things. The past, the future, and the wisdom of working together in preparation for what was to come. But, what the blind old professor couldn't see was Omar's searing scowl. It took all the strength the Archon could muster to not launch himself at his old spindly teacher. None of this would have happened if it weren't for him.

"And I told you, Filivandr, she is my child." Omar spat. He had kept her safe this long without his help. He was determined to continue. "She does not belong to the fates."

"Nor does she belong to you," Stonehart finally interjected, earning a glare. It was an odd thing. A room full of old men arguing about the autonomy of another person, especially a young woman such as her, and yet they were so used to having the conversation. Stonehart continued to the point that was always made, "If she must belong to someone, in the end, it will be the boy."

"She will not be owned," Filivandr growled, uncharacteristically. He clutched his runes hard in his frail hand and threw them onto the ash table. He felt his way around each etching when they settled from their clattering, though they said what they always did. "While the fates guide her to him, it will be a partnership. One cannot proceed without the other." The Archon stopped again and scowled first at the runes then back to Filivandr. He was a large man, a war hero of Alkebu, and a fearsome fire mage. His stern face and hardened body intimidated many, but to Filivandr he was the ill-tempered boy he had always been.

"If she has been guided it is by your hand, not the hands of the fates," Omar barked as he marched his way to the table. sneered as he stared into Filivandr's foggy eyes. "Your interpretations are not law and you do not speak for the gods!"

Unintimidated, Filivandr forced himself up out of his seat and shook his long finger in Omar's face. It was clear the power and comfort of being the sovereign had gone to his head.

"I was taught the ways of Seidr by Freyja herself; I am as close to the gods as you will ever get, you arrogant fool!" Both Filivandr and Omar steamed through their argument which had been bubbling from afar for over ten years. Stonehart's tired head fell into his hands as they continued to bicker. The fight only broke up when the door suddenly swung open.

"I have saved him, Headmaster," a skinny little man with a thin mustache and beady eyes declared as he flounced through the room. His flashy entrance allowed Filivandr and Omar both to lay off each other and focus on someone else for a change. He was followed by a nurse, who wore a blood-soaked apron and a look of disdain.

"Yes," she sighed, "because the hours of dark suturing I did while you rooted around in that poor boy's broken mind, was clearly not as helpful as your contributions, Aldis."

The weasely little man called Aldis paid the nurse no mind as he took up a seat at the table. She stood with her arms crossed, as his ego had filled the rest of the seats.

"It was a close call," Aldis said, helping himself to a leftover dinner roll from a barely touched plate. "The boy is so filled with darkness, it was difficult sorting out what belonged and what was cursed."

"And the girl?" Stonehart inquired. Aldis chewed slowly trying to work over the question.

"What of her?" he finally said opening his mouth just long enough for another bite. Stonehart looked down his nose at Aldis disapprovingly. "You mean to say that whelp is the boy's Phoenix? She could barely piece herself together let alone the boy."

Omar clenched his fists at the jab. He wanted to defend his daughter but also refused to admit that she was the one. Aldis Fenwin wasn't someone he wanted to find himself agreeing with. Leaving his daughter undefended, the woman drenched in blood covered the role.

"She performed extraordinary magic just to keep him alive. She's come farther in these three months than ever before."

"Yes, because she is the one. She has developed under his care." Filivandr pressed the point. "There is nothing more anyone can do. The prophecy has been set in motion. It is up to them now to fulfill their destiny."

"Gods be with them," the nurse muttered.

Stonehart nodded as he fiddled with a bulky garnet ring, "Gods be with us all."