Emberlight

11. A Speechless Goodbye

Feya

Torrents of heat doused her shield, and Feya fought for as long as she could. Flames cooked her skin and boiled the air around her. Her head and hands throbbed. Her heart raced in her chest. Nausea stirred within her the more she pushed.

Week two of training felt very much like traditional, biblical hell.

Martel's voice sounded distant as he called, "Turn it up, Hearth."

Feya groaned as a tear rolled down her cheek. The heat. The pressure. Dark spots danced on the edge of sight, purple and gold. So pretty. The side of her shield melted as hot flames licked at Feya's arm. She shrieked in pain.

And then the fire ceased.

Feya's shield disintegrated. Her knees buckled, and once again she knelt on the training room floor. Over the last week, she had become quite acquainted with this particular section of ground, and felt oddly fond of it.

"I said up, not off!" Martel snapped.

"And I decided she's had enough," Isadora Hearth said just as fiercely. The white cracks in her deep blue eyes gleamed, and the orange streaks in her hair darkened.

Martel scrunched up his nose, rubbing at his stubbly beard in thought. "You realise witches can attack us at any moment?"

"Exactly. How will she defend us if she can barely stand?" Crossing the room, Isadora hoisted Feya back to her feet. "Come on. You need rest."

She let Isadora help her away. The air in the hallways outside the training room was cooler, helping Feya find her strength. "I'm fine," she told Isadora, gently pulling free of the Ember's support. Her shoulder was a shade of furious red, but Yemi could heal that in a 'tick', whatever that meant. "Thanks, though."

"You're not strong enough," Isadora said. "And we're on borrowed time." There wasn't a hint of malice in her world, just the blunt truth. The honesty terrified her.

"I didn't want this," Feya said.

"That's the problem. You have no focus. Your shield is all or nothing, and you burn through your energy without a care for what happens next."

"I don't know what else to do."

"You need to want it," Isadora said, frowning at her with pity. "For your sake."

"But I can't—"

"Then do it for someone else."

Feya closed her mouth, the line of argument harder to battle. The others needed her. She had to be stronger for them. A shimmer skimmed over her hand, and her mentor smiled.

#

Kelsey

Day fourteen, and Kelsey hadn't told anyone, not even Feya, about her mother's charming visit. She assumed Oliana had received a court order to take her home, and was probably looking for her right now. She sat on the front step, awaiting her doom.

Ester was wrong about magic. It wasn't evil, but it was struggling. If only Kelsey could show a spark, then she could live to prove her mother wrong.

Frustration rumbled inside of her at the thought of returning home. Life here was easier, and the impending Bloodwitch attacks didn't scare her like she thought they would. The only thing that scared her was becoming filled with blind hate for the Embers. For Feya.

This was her last chance to find a smidgen of magic within herself.

She cupped her palms together and sighed. She really did want magic after all.