Sparks

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  I woke with the sun, washed my face, and dressed in my new striped coverings. New to me, anyhow. Rather than sew patches onto the ones I'd brought to her, Igera made an exchange with me for other shirts that were already marked.

  I sat to tie the drawstring of my pants when the door opened. It was Avis, and I felt immediately conflicted. Is he here to give me another impossible challenge, or is he actually going to help?

  "In order to complete this Round, you must learn to fight another unarmed student without the use of your Spark. To prove you have successfully mastered this form of combat, you must defeat each and every Round Two student. Only then will I award your stripe. Use of combat techniques outside of my presence, or that of the combat instructor, will mean a free trip home." The smile on his face made it clear as day that my trip home was what he wanted.

  Avis led me to the dining hall, which was completely full-I guessed at least a hundred others. I had never been to the dining room so early, and the volume was just as bad as I feared. Aside from the audible roar of students at breakfast, their thoughts screamed into my head until I could do nothing but follow behind Avis like a dog.

  He pushed me towards a table and brought over a plate of biscuits and bacon. "What's this for?"

  "How are you going to fight anyone if you can't even lift up your little twig arms? Eat."

  I couldn't exactly argue with him; he was right. I was at a complete disadvantage compared to the well-fed students of Myxini. It's going to be a massacre. Not in the mood to deny the opportunity to eat, I shoveled it in my mouth and tried as best I could to not wince from the ache in my brain. Before I could even finish, Avis dropped a second plate in front of me. "Eat," he said again, and I ate. By the time we left, I was certain I'd never eaten as much at one time, and it didn't feel pleasant.

  In the center of the grounds was the combat training area I had observed while on various errands. There were at least twenty students involved in wrestling matches around the training area, their thoughts particularly loud. Where to throw a punch or which way to turn dominated-and with so many matches in session, it was impossible to tell which belonged to whom.

  Avis introduced me to the grey-haired combat instructor, Sinha. A scar that ran down his brow added to his intimidation, but it was his secure stance that told me he knew how to handle himself.

  "He knows the rules?" Sinha asked. Avis nodded in reply and walked away. Why does he keep doing that?

  "Today you'll be working with Parvani. She must yield in order for you to win. Good luck." That's it? No help, no instructions? It was trial by fire, and I had a sneaking suspicion I would to have some serious burns by the end of the day. I knew Avis must have had a good laugh about it all.

  Sinha pointed in the direction of a girl who looked to have no more than sixteen summers. Her coverings were red, and her black hair was tied back in a braid. "Hi, Sinha said I'm with you today. I'm Lar-" Her fist connected with my ribs, and suddenly I couldn't breathe.

  "Nice to meet you, Lar," she said innocently, before her foot lodged itself in my gut while I lay helplessly on the ground. I gasped for breath and barely had time to turn to my side before my breakfast came back up. I knew eating too much wasn't a good idea. Maybe that was Avis's plan, too? Humiliating.

  "I'm Parvani. Round Two Striker." I'd barely gotten back to my feet before another foot caught me in the ribs and flung me onto my back in pain. I had never been hit like that; I'd never fought someone I couldn't defeat. In fact, I'd never really fought anyone before Micha. It became increasingly obvious how difficult this Round would be.

  "Sinha, do I really have to match him all day? Can't I have someone who can stay on their feet?"

  The stoic instructor came over and thankfully provided a reprieve from the torrent of painful blows. "No one else will fight you. Until Patna's leg heals, you don't have much of a choice." Oh no. What happened to Patna's leg? I had no idea who that was, but I definitely didn't want to learn what they meant the hard way.

  Parvani seemed to lose interest in me, so I stayed on the ground, curled, with my arms clutched to my chest. I wasn't any sort of competition for her, so she asked, "Do you yield?"

  I coughed out an answer and watched her walk over to a small wooden bench on the edge of the arena. It could have gone much worse, I'd decided. I could have had my arm or leg broken, I could have lost teeth, or been bludgeoned to death, for all I knew. As it happened, though, it still took several minutes before I could recover enough to stand, and I had nothing else to do but go talk to Parvani.

  Farther from the crowd, her thoughts were more distinct, though at times I still wasn't sure. Why does she feel remorseful for beating me? Why not just stop before it gets out of hand?

  "What happened to Patna?" I asked.

  She thought of the day she destroyed his leg, and I had to fight not to cringe at it. "I broke his leg the last time we fought. He wouldn't yield. He won't be recovered for months."

  "And you're stuck in Round Two until he's ready to fight again?" She nodded her agreement, filled with frustration and regret. She hadn't wanted to do it, but she couldn't get him to yield and she was desperate to move on to the next round. As it was, she was already one of the oldest students in Round Two.

  "I'm sorry I hit you so many times, Lar."

  "Actually, it's Lark."

  "Like the bird?" Yes, like the bird.

  "Do you think you could teach me how to stop someone from beating me so badly? I don't mind yielding to someone who is better than me, but I want to make sure I have all my teeth when we're done."

  She laughed, then agreed. For the rest of the day, she attempted to hit me-or rather, she successfully managed to hit me while I barely blocked a few hits. "Use your forearm to block rather than your hand. It's stronger and has a broader surface area," she would say before another punch would hurl toward my gut. Plenty of times, I'd actually manage to get my arm in the right position, but her strength won out and broke through my block anyway.

  By dinner time, I was starved, exhausted, and bruised beyond belief. Everything hurt, and I wasn't sure how I would manage to make it to my room. At least she didn't hit me in the face.

  "You did great for your first day," she told me warmly as she patted my shoulder, though her thoughts revealed exactly how untrue her statement was.

  "Thanks for your help. See you tomorrow." I limped my way back to my room and collapsed gently into bed, confident that I would never get past Round Two.

  As I nursed my sore body, I wondered how pleased Avis would be with how terribly I'd done. He was almost nice to me at breakfast, but now I was sure it was just a ruse. He had been well aware of what I would face and had done nothing to warn me.

  I could hardly believe what I heard when a knock came at the door. I'd totally forgotten about what I'd promised until Micha opened it. "You look terrible," he said when he walked inside. I hardly needed a reminder.

  "Hi to you, too-and thanks." We laughed when I told him about my introduction with Sinha and Parvani, and the rest of the story that detailed how I got all my bruises.

  "If you're that bad compared to her, then how am I supposed to win? You flattened me last time." It was meant to be a joke, but it made him think back to his bear, and I allowed myself to cringe when his pain resurfaced.

  "I'm sorry, Micha."

  "It's alright. When I think back on it, I'm glad you did what you did."

  "I know." Yet it's no easier a choice to make just because it's the 'right' thing. I wondered how many more times I would find myself in such a position and hoped the number would be few.

  For the rest of the night, Micha and I talked about history with a few conversations strayed into stories of the combat area or home. I blamed my many injuries when I convinced him to get us both dinner; in reality, I didn't feel ready for the dining hall. By the end of the evening, we were both fed and in good spirits, and I wondered why it had taken me so long to make a friend.

>   The next month passed in much the same way as my first day of Round Two. I ate breakfast once the crowd in the dining hall died down, and then I went to combat training with Parvani. My blocks got better by the day, but that was the only sort of progress I seemed to make; I couldn't land a hit to save my life.

  Micha would visit after training, and I'd help him review the history and study the maps. He already knew how to read before he came to the school, so it amazed me that I could translate faster. His biggest downfall was that he couldn't remember the facts.

  During our sessions, Parvani taught me more about Myxini and the various Sparks, the kinds of things Avis should have told me. Each student was identified once they entered the school. Their Sparks were recorded, and they were given coverings that represented their rate. Fellers wore bright green; Puffers wore light blue; Strikers wore red; Riders wore tan; mentors wore grey, and so on and so forth for the many different rates.

  It would take the average student five to eight years to get to Round Ten, but only a small handful of those who made it that far would ever graduate completely. As she told me, I swore that I would be one of those few.

  Then the day I dreaded finally arrived: another Round Two student challenged me to combat. Her name was Edith, and she appeared to be about my age despite being several inches taller. She had long, blonde hair and the dark blue coverings that were worn by Drifters.

  Sinha watched from the sidelines while we stood apart from each other, prepared to engage. Others gathered, most of which chanted for her, and I wondered how I'd managed to garner such little interest.

  She charged first and threw a fist to my right side. I blocked, just in time to see-and block-her other fist as it plummeted toward my jaw. She threw everything she had at me, and I had to admit she was fast, but somehow I'd managed to be faster. I blocked each and every hit she threw, and she wasn't strong enough to get through them like Parvani. I supposed that was proof that I'd begun to get stronger, if only a little. I never once tried to return a punch. I was torn: she was a girl; at the same time, I knew I'd never graduate from Round Two if I blocked all day.

  Whether it was thirty minutes or an hour, I wasn't sure, but Edith gave up exhausted. I was ecstatic that I'd made it out of my first official skirmish with my body intact, and even more so that I'd managed to retain most of my pride. It didn't count as a win, though; a win could only be achieved if the opponent yielded, and I'd hardly given her a fight worthy to make her do so. I hadn't even thrown a punch at her. Still, after that, others became interested, just in time for Micha to graduate to Round Two no less. We never had the time to chat like we'd had before then. One by one they challenged me, to the point that I had two or three fights a week for the next several weeks.

  I managed to hold my own, and one at a time, I stayed them off. Even though I didn't win, I stopped them in their tracks all the same. Their anger as a group grew, and I could hear them wonder if I'd cheated somehow, if I'd used my Spark to win, though they couldn't figure out how a Tracker was supposed to manage that. For two months, I'd successfully blocked and dodged any and all attacks that came at me.

  Winter descended in full force and covered the grounds in snow for a week or two at a time. A thick blanket, made of furs patch-worked together, was added to each bed. We were given heavy jackets to wear over our coverings, but many-including me-opted to not wear them for Combat Training. The thick leather impeded movement too much, and the heat from our exercises was enough to keep us warm. It didn't hurt that I had started to put on weight, too.

  A point came that turned the seemingly frozen tide; Shaz challenged me. He had fifteen summers and was an entire head taller than me. His brown coverings identified him as a Shaker. I didn't need to read his thoughts to know he intended to destroy me; his face was an open book that described how much he wanted to be the one to put me down.

  It started much like the others. Shaz went on the offensive with a series of punches, only to be blocked. In the excitement and frenzy of the gathered students, I could also feel his anger. It was a matter of pride for him to be undefeated. Once I realize that, though, it was too late. He was too angry, and I realized he was liable to seriously hurt me if he got the chance. I had no choice but to defend myself.

  After he missed a punch at my face, and I blocked another aimed for my stomach, I felt the impossible. My feet slipped off the stones beneath me, and I crashed onto my back. Shaz seized his opportunity, and dove on me. His fists pummeled into my face, but I managed to get my hands in the way a moment later. The damage was done, though; my eye started to swell, and I could taste the metal of my blood.

  "Yield!" He shouted down at me, but my blood boiled, too, and I refused to give him the satisfaction. In the end, like all the others, he gave up: too tired to lift his arms and frustrated without a victory.

  He stalked off to the dining hall, furious, and I stayed behind to clear my head. With the crowd gone with him for the most part, I could finally get my thoughts under control, even with all the pain. I didn't expect Parvani to come sit by my side as she did, tenderly evaluating my injuries in a way that reminded me of my mother.

  "What happened? I've never seen you lose your footing like that. Didn't I teach you anything?" From her perspective, it seemed like I had just jumped backwards and landed on my back.

  "I slipped on a rock. It happens. But tomorrow I want you to teach me to attack someone else."

  "Look, just because you got your ass handed to you doesn't mean you're ready to start challenging him." Of course she guessed my intentions immediately, but I didn't want to tell her that. For once I was glad that I was one of a very small population of Readers. At least I have my thoughts to myself.

  "I know, but the sooner I can start winning some fights, the sooner I can get to Round Three and end this. As long as I'm in Round Two, I'm a target to the others." I knew the moment she decided.

  "Alright, we'll start tomorrow."

  It took a few days before the inflamed tissue around my eye shrunk down enough that I could see out of it, so when I returned to training, Parvani was eager to begin her lessons.

  "The thing to remember is that they're so busy trying to hit you, they forget to defend themselves. The only way to beat someone is to keep up your blocks and still get in a few solid hits. You don't have to land a lot of them but, when you do, make it count."

  My instructions were simple: hit her without getting hit. The blocking part I could handle, I'd been doing it for months. The hitting part was a little awkward.

  "No," she lectured me. "You can't just throw your arms out and hope you make a hit. You have to wait for an opening." She moved her arms to show me the difference between a block I couldn't get around and one that I could effectively attack. It was a simple enough concept, but one that also seemed much harder to put into practice. It took a week before I felt as if I'd made any real improvements.

  I'd been in Round Two for four months; it seemed like it was time to move on, so I made an uncharacteristic choice to issue challenges of my own. I waited until after lunch and found my mark by the far wall of the training area.

  "Edith, I challenge you to combat." I'd heard the words so many times before, yet it felt so strange to say them myself. I'd only yielded to Parvani, so I was eligible to pick whomever I wanted. Edith was the first to challenge me, and I chose to return the favor. I wish I could say it had been difficult, but she yielded after a few minutes and never landed a single hit.

  For the next two weeks, I fought another student every day and earned a yield from each. There were only a handful left, but I knew those would be the most difficult: Shaz, because I worried my anger would cloud my judgment; Micha, because he was my friend; and Parvani, because I wasn't confident I could truly beat her.

  Just when I thought I was about to have to make a hard choice, a new student arrived at Combat Training and I knew the hardest one was still ahead of me: Khea.

  She wore light blue and held her blonde hair out
of her face with a braid. She looked better than when I last saw her: she'd put on a few pounds, which got rid of her starved look, her clothes fit properly, and she was clean. Girls at Myxini wore brown fitted pants, and her narrow knees were the only hint of what she'd been like before.

  I could have jumped and yelled from excitement to see her. As soon as I saw her I ran over, but the blank expression she wore made it clear she wasn't all that pleased to see me. It had been months, and I'd almost thought she'd gone home-or hadn't had a bright enough Spark after all.

  "Khea?"

  "Lark, have you met my mentor, Mathias?" She turned to look at a middle-aged man who stood behind her. I couldn't get a read on either one, though it was hard to tell in the commotion of the training area. He wore the grey coverings that all mentors wore and, despite the age on his face, his golden hair matched the yellow pendant-inlaid with a black stone spider-about his neck.

  "Where have you been all this time?"

  "Training, of course. Haven't you?"

  "Well, yes, but... Why haven't I seen you?"

  "Mathias is responsible for all my lessons." She was cold and dismissive, almost as if I bothered her. I couldn't believe it. Why is she being so weird? I only wanted to make sure she was safe, that she was protected. What happened?

  With a wave of dismissal, she walked past me to challenge Parvani. I was sure my mouth dropped to the ground. Does she have any idea what she's doing?

  "Is she crazy?" Micha asked. He seemed more worried for her mental faculties than her general well-being, though I couldn't disagree.

  They stood and faced each other as Sinha commenced the fight. Khea was at least a full foot shorter than Parvani and looked like she could be her toy. I didn't imagine Parvani was going to let her down easy.

  In a moment of what must have been suicidal desire, Khea lunged, blocked a punch, and landed her fist square on Parvani's cheek before the larger girl dropped onto her back on the ground. It was the most impressive display I had ever seen. Once she knew what she was up against, Parvani put in real effort to fight and, for a while, it seemed as if they were evenly matched. The final blow came when Khea grabbed Parvani's wrist, spun around her, and forced her to the ground. "Yield," Parvani let out, defeated.

  Without a word to me or Micha, Khea walked back to Mathias, who quickly led her away. It was all I could think about the rest of the day-and into the next morning. What happened to Khea? Where has she been all this time and why is she so distant now? And since when was she some sort of combat master?

  The next day Khea returned alone and challenged Shaz, a move that made me feel that Micha might have been right. Unlike Parvani, Shaz only lasted a measly few minutes before the pain in his leg prompted a yield. That time, I was able to catch her before she left.

  "Hey, Khea. What's going on? Why won't you talk to me?"

  "I'm sorry, I'm not allowed."

  "You're not allowed? Says who? That Mathias guy?" It seemed outlandish that anyone should be prevented from seeing me, particularly Khea.

  She nodded before she replied, "I'm not supposed to talk to you. Please leave me alone." Right then, a boulder fell from the sky and crushed me. I just wanted to make sure she was alright. Why would someone prevent that? What made it worse was that she went along with it. She hadn't fought against it or refused to follow his rules. My insides ached with a new kind of pain.

  She began to walk away, but she turned around suddenly and leaned in close. "Meet me at the gardens after dinner," she whispered. A wide smile pressed into my cheeks; my friend was in there somewhere. Mathias may have convinced her to follow him publicly, but somewhere and in some small part, she was still my friend.

  I had no choice but to go to the dining hall during the rush that night. I couldn't miss dinner or I'd surely pay for it the next day in combat, but I didn't want to miss my chance with Khea either. I choked down a plateful of roast pork and beans, and I all but threw my plate into the pile of dirty dishes before heading down the corridor to the gardens.

  "What's this, Simon?" echoed strangely from around the corner.

  "It's a little bird."

  "An ugly, grey bird."

  By the time I caught up to the voices, I witnessed a scene that would change my course at Myxini. Shaz and his friend, Simon, were on either side of a person so small it could only be Khea.

  "It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

  Aside from their verbal assault, their thoughts were vile. Shaz hated her for his humiliation in the training yard, and thought of ways to humiliate her in return. I knew I couldn't fight either of them. It would mean leaving school, going home to face the parents I left for a few plates of food. No matter what happened, I needed to keep learning about my Spark, to make it all worthwhile.

  "What should we do with it?"

  "Let's take the ugly bird back outside where it belongs."

  A picture of the girl naked in the snow popped into his head, and I snapped.

  I screamed and charged him. Anger took over me completely then, and I slammed his face into the ground before he had time to react. Then I did it again. And kept doing it until he didn't move anymore-maybe even after that. It was a blur. When I stopped, and my senses came to me, Simon stared at me wide-eyed, and scrambled away from me as fast as he could. I was left with Khea and Shaz, in a pool of his own blood.

  Before I could stand fully, Khea latched her arms around my neck and sobbed violently. "You don't need to worry," I said, but when I looked down, I could imagine how it might not look that way. I picked her up and carried her the rest of the way to the gardens to spare her from the sight.

  "Khea, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" What? What did I just do?

  "Thank you," she managed once her sobs stopped, though her eyes remained puffy in the moonlight. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have let them keep me away."

  "Why don't they want you to be around me?"

  "He said you're dangerous." Well that I couldn't deny. Just ask Shaz.

  "I don't think you are." She added.

  "Do you think he's-" Dead?

  "No. He won't look right for a while, though." I could have sworn I saw her lips quirk in a thin smile.

  "Why were they calling you a bird? Did they know we were friends?"

  "A khea is a bird from the Oakwick. My father visited there once. He thought it was very exotic."

  "What was he like?"

  "He was a fisherman; he worked really hard."

  "Yeah, I got that. Khea Fisher." In fact, nearly half the village had been Fishers, some more related than others.

  "He would tell stories all the time, about his trip to Oakwick or this one about a really big fish he caught once in the cove." She seemed to drift into thought. I wondered if she would ever tell me the rest one day. She was the only connection I had to Lagodon, and it felt nice to think about it again.

  We talked for as long as we could before we needed to get to bed. With training, a lack of sleep was the last thing either of us needed.

  "Just come find me, if you need anything," I told her as she walked away, but I wasn't sure if she'd heard me before she turned down the corridor.