Shift

Spark

"Don't move." Alcander's voice is dry and crisp, like lightning striking from the heavens. He appears casual, one hand on the soldier's arm, but his face is dark enough to blot out the sun.

The soldier tenses. Hatred burns in his eyes, a look I know well. Yet he doesn't kill me, and he doesn't turn on Alcander. Instead he just stares at me, those fire burning into my soul.

"Move away," Alcander orders. His voice softens slightly-the only reason I know he's talking to me-and I slide away from the tip of the blade. The soldier seems to be frozen, his arm quivering from the strain of holding a sword at a strange angle.

Slowly, the soldier begins to move. He lowers his arm in jerky movements and backs away from the carriage. Alcander moves past him, but keeps his arm around the soldier.

"Drivers, please begin our journey," Alcander calls. In my panic, I had forgotten they existed. They look strong. Why didn't they help us?

Just as the carriage begins to move again, Alcander throws the soldier out the door, a burst of light following the body as it slumped to the ground. The door slams shut, and Alcander slides into the seat across from me.

Alcander looks half dead. His breaths come in short gasps, and his hands shake on the seat beside him. When he had first greeted me, there had been a certian authority to him. Now, he looks as weak as a newborn. Occasionally, a surge of light ripples in his veins. Sometimes it's faint. Sometimes it's bright enough to show through his clothes.

I fidget with my pants, picking at the already weak seams. I've never seen a power like that before. I'm not even sure what power he has, only that he is exhausted and we are temporarily safe.

Slowly, his breathing starts to deepen. The light flashes less often, and his hands stop twitching. Little by little, Alcander returns to his former self. A small smile even graces his lips when he realizes I'm fidgeting.

"You can talk to me," he finally says. "Ask questions."

"You said you would only tell me what I needed to know." My voice is suprisingly cold. No, not cold. Worried. Panicked. Scared. Of what? Of my lack of ability to protect myself? Or of Alcander, and that darkness in his voice?

"Well, I think there's more of a demand for answers now, yes?" Alcander tries to sit up straighter, but he winces and falls back to his former position.

I pause only a moment. "What did you do back there? I've never seen anything close to it."

Alcander grins weakly. "That's my Mark. Electricity." He raises his hand and an arc of pale yellow light dances from fingertip to fingertip. "As for what I did, I simply rerouted his thoughts. Made him forget us. In an hour or so, he'll wake up with a headache for the ages, but won't remeber anything that happened."

"So you can control people," I reply. The grin falls from his face, and his hand tightens into a fist, wiping out the light show.

"That is none of your business," he replies sharply. I think of the way he had looked at the soldier and a shiver creeps across my body.

I quickly change the topic. "We're traveling today because..."

"Because Rowan wants you to start training as soon as possible. Desperate measures had to be taken." Alcander says. His voice is crisper. Okay, so asking about his Mark was not the way to start the conversation. He averts his eyes, as if he just committed some kind of betrayal.

"Rowan?"

"Your Full Mentor." He averts his eyes, as if he just committed some kind of betrayal.

"Why me?"

Alcander crosses his arms across his chest. "That's a question you'll have to ask him yourself."

I pull up the curtain. We've entered the city proper, though we are in the slums of the city. A gasp escapes my lips, and Alcander turns to me. A familiar part of a familiar city. 

"Lyvian," I whisper. Beggars litter the streets. Many of them crowd the carriage, banging on the sides and yelling. Alcander reaches across and yanks down the curtian.

But I'm too numb to care about seeing the sights. Memories wash over me, plunging me into a sea of emotions. Hunger, when there was no food for days. Hope, at collecting spare change to move out of the city, and despair when it was all stolen again. Joy, at watching my little sister play in the streets.

My sister.

Her smiles, her laughs. The hugs she used to give when I spent the whole night searching for scraps, only to come up empty handed the next morning. When she used tell me everything was going to be fine, even through I should have been telling her that.

The day she died.

The crowd.

The blood.

Alcander shakes me. He's calling my name. No, he's been calling my name. The carriage has stopped moving.  The pounding outside has stopped, too. Tears pour down my face, but I don't remember starting to cry.

I try and stop the tears. I do. Yet they continue to fall, ripping open the seams I had sewed into my broken heart. Everything is raw. Everything hurts.

"Breathe." It's the first thing that Alcander says that I actually hear. His arm is wrapped around my shoulder. "Breathe."

I try. All that I can muster are short, hiccuping gasps. I push away the memories of her, of my little Angelica, and try and patch the damage inside. I try to forget, but every breath feels like poison. Old questions rise. Why should she die and I live? Why couldn't I stop it?

Eventually, the tears don't run anymore. The pain, though, persists. Alcander is still beside me, still trying to comfort me. He wipes away the last of my tears.

"Are you strong enough to go inside?" he asks. His voice is mild, tender. "Rowan is eager to meet you, but if you are not ready yet-"

"No." My voice is weak, but I force all the courage I can into it. "I'm ready."

Alcander knocks on the carriage. The carriage shakes, and a moment later the door opens, revealing a darkening sky. Alcander gestures for me to exit, his eyes meeting mine.

"Then let's go, Kella. It's time to meet your new Mentor."