Diffraction

Chapter Four: Stormclouds Brewing

Then Diligence in work that wells up from a heart kept still.

Patrols on the Woodwall around Northridge glanced up at the cloaked Devoted perched in an oak at the town's edge. Most said nothing. Some murmured snide comments to their partners. Lyllithe paid them no mind.

Thick storm clouds slid across the night sky, obscuring the stars. In the west above the Snowtips, wisps and clusters of clouds flashed, their bolts of lightning shrouded in shadow. Each spark revealed hidden layers and depths within the storm. No thunder reached Lyllithe's ears, which made the display even more captivating.

A short rain at dusk brought damp leaves and cold, humid air. Strands of aera tangled with ripples of aqua floating in Lyllithe's vision, but she ignored the elemental energies.

Pebbles and pinpricks of light hung in the air around her, like tiny stars fallen to the earth. Combined, the brightness compared to two or three candles. But in the overcast night, an eerie glow filled the tree and cast long shadows on the ground.

Her heavy fur-lined cloak kept most of the chill at bay. Still, she shivered whenever she stopped straining to produce light.

Lyllithe considered the inadequate cloak and welcomed some misery. One more thing that's not quite good enough.

Two of the seven twinkles faded, and Lyllithe sighed. She looked down at the Gracemark on her right hand. It gave no glow of its own.

Lyllithe raised her fist and squeezed. Her teeth gritted and her muscles clenched. Ten seconds passed. A new pebble of light sprang from her palm.

The sudden absence of crickets chirping followed by soft footsteps in the grass alerted Lyllithe to a new arrival.

"Neat trick," a woman's voice called up from below.

Josephine, fantastic. Lyllithe avoided looking down. The perfect Soulforged daughter of the Light-Shield himself. She'll probably instruct me in what I'm doing wrong as a Devoted.

"The stars are beauty enough, Lyl," Josephine said with a chuckle. "You don't need to make your own."

"Everyone needs to practice," Lyllithe said. Another light faded. "I heard you had a bit today." She concentrated again and created a new speck.

"Some ne'er-do-wells from the Militia picked a fight," Josephine said. "I picked back. If you come down, I'll tell you all the bloody parts."

Lyllithe laughed but remained still. She studied the largest light-pebble with a frown. "Not sure I'm up for hearing about it tonight, Jo."

"Another fight with your Dad?"

Lyllithe shrugged. "We don't do much else anymore." She heard Josephine's feet shuffle in the grass below. "I'm not devoted enough to be a Devoted, according to him."

"But your Gracemark must—" Josephine stammered. "I mean, it's not a mere Brand etched by the Abbey, it's a blessing direct from Aulis. Light Himself. An Aspect of the Divine. Your devotion is obvious."

"Well, it's obvious my father knows the mind of our Aspect better than I do," Lyllithe said. "And what good is a Gracemark with no power?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing I do works, Jo," Lyllithe cried out. Her self-control broke, like a person holding her breath as long as possible then finally gasping for air.

"I try to heal, and I can't. I know how to summon Light, how to mend wounds. But I cannot make it happen. Not when I have to perform and prove myself.