Page 53 of The Spark that Ignites
“Do you remember what I told you back over the gate? About thekhaosflame being a rare gift.”
Emmery narrowed her eyes, taking a step back. “I do. But what’s—” She choked on the lump forming in her throat. Something was off. Why did he drag her here? “What’s going on?”
“We’ve—” He tugged a hand through his hair, cursing softly before he continued, “Well, we’ve been searching for almost a century, but no one has held that magic since the Goddess Kahlia ... Until you.”
Emmery’s heart slowed and each sound heightened around her—the whistling of the wind through the temple pillars, the erratic chirp of a far-off bird, and the scuff of her boots on the perfect temple floors. “What does this have to do with me?”
“We need you to relight the flame with your gift.” Vesper wove the words like chinks in armour, and while each link should have made it stronger, something was broken and it crumpled to pieces, rendering it useless. Because he had to be wrong.
As Emmery stared at him, trying to sift through what he was asking and find the bit of information she was missing, a stifling silence swelled between them. If she thought she couldn’t breathe moments ago, she was wrong. This fire in her veins was the last thing from a gift. He had to be joking. This was some sort of ... prank. It had to be.
Emmery’s jaw clenched, her teeth gnashing, as doubt and embarrassment sank in. “This isn’t funny. You’re making this up.”
“I’m not,” he pressed.
But Emmery wasn’t convinced. “So, what, I’m supposed to relight the fire? Shoot some sparks in there and call it a day? Is that it?” The words sounded ridiculous, and she barked a harsh laugh. “You don’t need me. I’m—I’m nobody.”
“You certainly aren’t nobody. And deep down, you know it too.” After catching the crazed look in her eyes, Vesper kept his voice tentative, soft. “We’ve been waiting for you. To save us. To relight the flame.”
This had to be some sort of mistake. Her cheeks reddened, her heart roaring, and the new magic in her blood sparked to life, the verykhaosflame they spoke of striking out.
And it was angry.
What did he mean they’d been waiting for her? She was over a hundred years old and across that gate all this time—runningand hiding because she was too weak to save herself. She’d donenothingwith her life, and he was saying she’s some saviour?
What the fuck did that even mean?
The temple became too stuffy, and she tugged at the neck of her tunic.
“Look, I’ll do it, if that’s what you really want, but you have the wrong woman ...” She paused at the hesitation on his face. “What now?”
Vesper’s brows creased, his face drawn. “I wish it were that simple. There’s more. And it’s ... intense.”
It was unnerving to see him so serious. Emmery’s stomach sank as he fiddled with the strap on his glove again, seeming to ready himself for the next scrap of information, sure to be worse than the first.
“There’s a prophecy,” he said, slowly, eyes tracing her frame to gauge her reaction.
Worry slithered through her gut as the flames roared, and she squeezed her eyes trying to staunch them. “That’s—ridiculous. It’s ridiculous.” Anger rose and she spat, “This is nonsense. Why are you doing this to me?”
It couldn’t possibly be her. Could it? All she wanted was to be normal. To belong here and live a normal life. And now it was all being ripped away.
Vesper’s eyes widened, tracking the flames climbing her hands. “Take a few deep breaths. Your emotions are heightened from the magic joining your blood.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Emmery stood and paced, unable to contain it all. The lid she had clamped over her emotions was leaking steam, billowing out smoke, and she was boiling over.
“I just need to get this out. Will you listen?” She didn’t acknowledge him, and Vesper snapped his glove clasp. “You can take it or leave it, but I promised someone I would say it. That I would bring you here and set things in motion.” He sucked in asharp breath, like it would give him strength. “An oracle named Zyphira visited me and told me about the prophecy, but all I remember is a flower and silver and gold. There was a line about burning and sparks igniting and it referenced the origin story of the gods. The Ballad of Beginnings.”
“Alright, but—” she argued, her cheeks hot, “how do you know the prophecy is about me?”
Vesper raised a brow. “Really?” He gestured to her hair and eyes. “Silver and gold.” Then her hands. “You have thekhaosflame at your fingertips. It's pretty evident.”
“It could be anyone,” she muttered but she knew in her shrunken heart it wasn’t true. It seemed too convenient to be a coincidence. “What else do you remember?”
“There was something about six saviours, three men and three women, who have scars like ours, Hollow and Fallen, and the mark of theShadowheart. The prophecy says two gods will save magic with the help of the disciples. Izzy and I have the scars but that only makes two of us. And you fit the rest of the prophecy.”
A silence spread between them. “Sounds like—”
“I know how it sounds,” he countered. “I don’t know if I believe it myself but having both scars must mean something. Zyphira gave me the guidance I needed to find you and set things in motion. About Izzy too. And she’s an oracle, so she has to know, right?”
