The victory over Jax bought Nola a seat at the table, but it cost him his anonymity. In the mess hall, the other Sparks whispered as he passed, their eyes darting to his hands as if they expected them to burst into violet flames again.
Nola didn't eat much. The "breakfast" was a grey porridge that tasted of salt and chalk, but it stopped the shaking in his limbs.
"You shouldn't have done that," Kael whispered, sliding into the seat across from him. He kept his head down, stirring his bowl. "Jax's father isn't just a Count. He's a high-ranking officer in the Central Command. You've made an enemy of a man who owns the air we breathe."
"He attacked me," Nola said, his voice flat. "What was I supposed to do? Die?"
"In the Spire, sometimes dying is the safer choice," Kael replied grimly.
Before Nola could respond, a shadow fell over the table. It wasn't a student. It was one of the silent, masked guards.
"Nola of Larkspur," the guard's voice echoed through the iron mask. "The Commander summons you."
The Heart of the Spire
Nola was led higher into the Spire than the trainees were allowed to go. The air grew thinner and colder, and the walls were no longer bare stone but covered in ancient tapestries depicting stars being devoured by darkness.
He was brought to a circular room filled with thousands of scrolls and heavy, iron-bound books. In the center sat Commander Vane, sans his heavy traveling coat. He was reading a scroll, a single candle providing the only light.
"Your performance in the courtyard was... loud," Vane said without looking up.
"I did what I had to," Nola replied, standing tall despite the pressure he felt in Vane's presence.
Vane finally looked up, his golden eyes reflecting the candle flame. "You used a Void Pulse. A technique that usually takes years of meditation to trigger. Tell me, Nola—when you hit him, what did you feel?"
Nola hesitated. He thought back to the moment his fist connected with Jax's chest. "I felt... empty. Like I was a hole in the world, and everything around me was falling into it."
Vane stood and walked toward a shelf, pulling out a book that looked like it was bound in human skin. "There are three colors of Shadow Magic in this Empire. Crimson, the path of the soldier—physical, bloody, and hot. Silver, the path of the spy—elusive, cold, and deceptive."
He laid the book on the table. The cover was etched with a violet eye.
"And then there is Violet. The color of the Void. It is not 'magic' in the traditional sense. It is the absence of existence. You don't create fire or ice, Nola. You delete the space between yourself and your enemy."
Vane leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But the Void is hungry. If you do not give it enemies to consume, it will eventually consume the vessel. It will eat your memories, your emotions, and finally, your soul."
The Secret of the Well
Vane opened the book to a page showing a map of the continent, but it was different from the ones in the village. This map showed veins of energy running through the earth.
"Your village was built on a 'Leak,'" Vane explained. "A place where the Void seeps into our world. Your mother knew this. She stayed there to keep you hidden, hoping the mundane life of a woodcutter would keep the spark from igniting."
Nola's heart flared. "She died for a lie? You killed her for a secret I didn't even know I had?"
Vane didn't flinch at the accusation. "I killed her because she was an obstacle to a weapon the Empire needs. The Broken Kingdom to the West is stirring. They have found something ancient, something that can kill even a man like me. I need a Void-user to stop them."
Vane pushed a small, black iron ring across the table. It was set with a dull purple stone.
"Wear this. It is a limiter. It will stop the Void from eating you while you sleep. But during training, you will take it off. If you want your revenge, Nola, you must become strong enough to survive the very power that killed your innocence."
Nola looked at the ring. It represented his chains—but it also represented his only path to power. He picked it up and slid it onto his finger. The constant humming in his veins quieted instantly, leaving him feeling strangely cold.
"Go back to your barracks," Vane commanded. "Tomorrow, Master Thorne will not be using training swords. He will be using live steel. Try not to let the Void eat your head before the sun sets."