《Margrave's Divinity (Rewrite)》Chapter 3

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The sound of a door and his mother shouting woke him.

“Lyle! I’m leaving! Don’t be late for work!”

Damn, I haven’t told her yet?

Lyle tried to peel his eyes open, rubbing at them furiously. What time was it? He’d had a weird dream…

And there was a burning ache in his chest. He pressed his hands to his chest and gasped with the pain, trying to rub it away but achieving nothing. His fingers began to heat up, and he realized his chest over his heart was feverish. Rushing to the bathroom, he grabbed his glass and refilled it then swallowed the entire thing as fast as he could to cool himself down. He downed three more glasses before the burning began to subside, all the while holding his hand over his heart.

As he looked in the mirror, it all came rushing back. The cave, the dragon—Tiamat, a... goddess? Had he met a goddess? That thought was too much for him to process this early in the morning. Whether it was the truth or not, the encounter had been nothing short of miraculous—mostly in that he’d come out of it alive.

And he was an Ember now, according to the dragon. He thought back to the night before again. He could remember her reaching a claw out to touch him, as he tried his best to hold his ground while the monstrous limb approached. Somehow, the touch was gentle, but a blazing light and scorching pain tore him from reality in the next instant. He wasn’t injured, but still he could feel the heat within him. He focused on it. If he were truly an Ember now, he should be able to feel the power burning within him, and perhaps even achieve something with it.

Lyle looked inwards, trying with his mind’s eye to find anything that wasn’t a flight of fancy. Some metaphysical oddity, some difference. And there it was. Plain as day, a pool of bright power beckoned to him. He looked more closely and found it wasn’t a pool at all. The Emberflame burned within him, golden light spilling off of it. Sparks drifted off of it into the darkness, eventually dimming as their distance from the Emberflame grew.

He raised his hand and grasped at the power with his mind, pulling at it gently and willing it to manifest. For a moment, nothing happened, but as he focused on the power, it began to shift. Before his eyes, a light, like a golden puff of smoke, drifted off of his hand. It moved easily at his mental command, and in the mirror he saw the smoldering flames burning in his irises with a subdued but potent light.

Lyle laughed in giddy excitement. He was an Ember. He had succeeded. Well, he’d taken a bit of a detour, but he’d gotten there eventually. The fear and dejection was worth it.

The light extended towards his toothbrush as he willed it, wrapping handily around the handle and attempting to lift it. Lyle frowned when it slipped right through the solid object, as if it weren’t even there. He tried again, but his power was like a ghost. Nothing reacted to its touch.

Lyle tried using the power to touch himself, or itself, or he tried to will it to do different things, but while he was able to tie it into a knot by willing it into a strand that he could manipulate, it still had no visible effect on the world around him. And holding the knot was hard, as the power struggled against his will.

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The heat in his chest grew once more, forcing Lyle to stop and breathe deeply again to try to push it down. Once he stopped playing with his ineffectual magic, the ache dulled to a more manageable state, though. Lyle took a quick shower and readied himself for the day, hoping that it would continue to fade to nothing.

There was only one thing to do, as much as he didn’t want to do it. He had to visit the DOER branch office where he’d quit two days before. He needed a license if he wanted to enter a Tower, after all, and perhaps they could tell him what his power actually did.

If he’d been Kindled at the Bunker yesterday, he’d have received a license immediately, or at least quickly upon taking several tests to determine his aptitude. After all, they had to be discerning about who entered the towers or they would have deaths on their hands.

And so he found himself standing outside the doors, contemplating the building. He needed the license, and their analysts' expert opinions on his ability wouldn’t hurt. But seeing his old boss, Thomas, again… or really anyone in the office wasn’t something he was excited about. They mostly knew who he was, and he didn’t want them to think he’d come crawling back. Maybe he could find out more about his power on the internet, and go to a different DOER office for his license… but no. He was already here. It wasn’t worth the extra effort to avoid his old coworkers. He could handle a little discomfort.

Lyle took a breath in preparation and walked into the big metal and glass high-rise building. Technically, this DOER office only occupied the basement through the third floor, but it was colloquially called the DOER Building anyway, like the Kindling center was called the Bunker.

The receptionist was someone he didn’t recognize, thankfully. After a brief conversation with the man, he was directed to the basement, which acted as the testing facility. For the sake of ease, Lyle listened and nodded without informing the man that he knew exactly where to go. He felt awkward doing so, but the receptionist didn’t seem to notice.

He managed to get in the elevator without seeing anyone he recognized.

Once he hit the basement, he stepped out into the well-lit complex. Several large rooms filled with what appeared to be big medical scanners greeted him. A couple technicians looked up, and he recognized them, of course—more was the pity.

“Look who came crawling back!” drawled Ian Sanders, a tall, mid-twenties kid with just the barest hint of facial hair. “It’s been less than a week. You kidding me? Your resolve’s really so weak?”

Layla Freed chuckled beside him and shook her head, looking back to the computer screen she was typing away on. She was the older manager of the technicians and mostly avoided the drama.

“No, actually,” Lyle replied. “I’m here to get a license. Then I’ll be outta your hair.”

“Pffft, you, a certified Ember? Wishful thinking alone won’t get you there,” replied Ian mockingly. “I appreciate your optimism, though.”

“Well, test me anyway.”

“Whatever, man, your dime. Come sit here.” Ian patted a chair, which Lyle sat in. Ian took some baselines for his vitals, then stood him up again and pointed to one of the larger rooms in the basement—the gymnasium.

They gave him shorts and a t-shirt to change into, then had him lift weights, jump, sprint, and jog for as long as he could. They opened up a cover on the floor, revealing a small pool of water underneath, and told him to jump in and hold his breath. Each of his achievements became a note on Ian’s clipboard.

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“Well,” Ian said once the physical portion of the tests was done. He was raising an eyebrow as he flipped between a couple different pieces of paper. “I guess you weren’t kidding, unless you could have tied Usain Bolt the last time we spoke.”

“Definitely not.”

“You’re not particularly powerful, but that’s not surprising if you were Kindled yesterday. Give it some time.”

A hint of a smile broke out on Lyle’s face. “Aww, thanks. I appreciate the reassurance.”

Ian scrunched up his face. “I’m not… whatever, dumbass. Just keeping your expectations reasonable. You’re above the baseline for an Ember, so cool, but don’t get cocky. Even as careful as we are, people still get killed in the Towers.” He looked at Lyle meaningfully. “Especially when they’re new to it all.”

“Don’t run in by myself. Got it.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Do you know what flavor your gift is?”

Lyle started to shake his head, then stopped and shrugged. “Kind of? Not really. Thought maybe you guys could help me figure it out.”

“Layla!” Ian called. She was back on her computer in the other room, having gotten bored halfway through Lyle’s feats of physical prowess. She’d seen far more impressive Embers—he wasn’t much to write home about.

Lyle and Ian saw a hand wave through a glass pane that protected the space while leaving it feeling relatively open, then Layla approached them thirty seconds later.

“Sorry, had to finish up a Tear analysis. The one from yesterday wasn’t done yet. Do you need something?”

“Lyle doesn’t know what his power does,” Ian said.

“Describe it.” Layla was looking at Lyle intently now.

Lyle told them about his experience this morning in the bathroom, and how he couldn’t seem to affect anything with it, but he was sure it was there.

She hummed, tapping her chin with a pen pensively. “Golden light… Can you summon it now? Maybe it’s actually just light magic.”

Lyle complied, manifesting the golden light just above the palm of his hand. A spark appeared, more easily than the last time he had tried, and a glow radiated outwards from it. Even if he didn’t quite know what it did, it was incredible to hold such power that he could see.

“What the hell?” Layla murmured after a moment. She was staring into the air where his hand was, but it was clear from the intensity of her unmoving gaze that she couldn’t see the thread.

“What?” Lyle asked.

“I can’t see anything, but I can… feel it,” she said slowly. “I also see the fire in your eyes, so that’s pretty good confirmation you’re an Ember, in case the physical stuff hadn’t been clear. That’s weird, though…” A shiver ran down her body.

Lyle considered her, then willed the light towards her and Ian. Instead of the spark at the source moving, waves of the radiating glow gently wavered and then flowed towards them. The waves slowed the further they got from the spark, then slowly snapped back towards Lyle’s palm. Neither Ian nor Layla reacted, instead continuing to stare at his palm. With a push, the glow brushed against them, and phased right through their bodies. Lyle was not met with any stolen knowledge or awareness of their minds, to his disappointment.

“Uh… I just touched you with it, and nothing happened. Did you feel that?”

Ian frowned and started to open his mouth, but Layla cut him off and gave Lyle a stern look. “Lyle, please don’t do that without permission. But no, I didn’t feel anything else. I can feel the… intensity, though. Look at my arm. I’ve got goosebumps.”

Sure enough, she looked like she should have been crackling with static electricity. Her hair stood on end like a startled cat.

“Then what does the power do?” Lyle asked.

Layla shrugged. “I don’t know. They come in lots of different types, so I would just try using it once in a while. Have you tried, like, willing it into existence, or getting it to burn, or something?”

“I think I did. Maybe I did it wrong, but nothing happened no matter what I tried.”

“That should be all there is to it,” Layla said. “You’ll figure it out eventually,” Layla said. “For now, it’ll develop slowly, but just keep trying stuff. It’s weird though…”

“What is?”

“I’m not an Ember, as I’m sure you know,” she said, “which means I usually don’t feel any hint of an Ember’s power unless they actually do something with it. That makes me think that what we feel is exactly what your power does and we just don’t understand it. There’s just… an intensity about it, though. Like… I can feel the air shivering, or something, like it’s… how do I describe it? It’s like it’s waiting for something to happen, which is why I feel like we don’t understand it and also think that’s not all it does.” She shivered again. “Even now, I feel the little bits of static running up and down my body.”

“Sorry,” Lyle replied. He waved his hand, and the light disappeared.

“Ah, it’s gone.” Layla stood up. “You let it go? Thought so. I’m obviously convinced, though, and you’ve already been screened, so let’s get you that license.”

“You’ve already been screened?” Ian asked as he handed her his clipboard, and she immediately scanned the form.

“Yeah, went to the Bunker for a Kindling,” Lyle said absentmindedly.

“And yet you had to drop in here, sans appointment, for a license?”

“Oh, uh… I didn’t actually get Kindled there,” Lyle said, wondering how much he should say. How would they react if he told them a dragon had given him the power? A part of him wanted to share, since it was so interesting, but he figured it wasn’t worth it at the moment. “That was my first option, but it didn’t work, so I didn’t get a license,” he finally said.

“Gotcha. Mysterious-like.” Ian gave him a funny look, but didn’t press any further. Lyle could only shrug apologetically.

They took a picture of Lyle, then printed an Ember ID for him. He thanked them and slipped it into his wallet.

“Alright, well, thank you guys. See you around.”

“Hey, wait a second,” Ian said. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Lyle paused, and then nodded. He slipped them a debit card, which Ian quickly swiped in a card reader that was attached to a tablet then handed back to him.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Ian said with a grin.

Lyle smiled back. “You too. Stay safe, guys. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Hopefully not because you end up working here again,” Ian quipped.

Lyle laughed. “You want me gone that much?”

“Nah, man, just don’t want you to be that desperate! That’d just make me sad!”

Lyle chuckled again and bid them farewell, then headed back up to the lobby. He peered out of the elevator, recognizing no one, and walked casually but quickly for the door. If he was quick enough, Thomas wouldn’t catch him even if the man did recognize him.

His hopes came crashing down as a sarcastic voice called out.

“Lyle Margrave! Hey, guy, I thought you quit!”

The voice spoke his name slowly, threateningly. You dare come back here? it asked. It sent annoyance mixed with nervousness shooting through Lyle’s body. This wasn’t going to be a comfortable conversation.

Lyle sighed and turned to face his old boss. His anger at the man started to bubble up again, but he pushed it down and settled on being as blunt as possible when he spoke. “Thomas, I did quit. Why I’m here has nothing to do with you, so please fuck off.”

Thomas raised his thick, brown eyebrow towards his receding hairline. When Lyle had worked here, he would never have been so curt or offensive with the man. He would have kissed the man’s ass just to make his paycheck and bear the most remote chance of advancement into a position that wasn’t quite so menial. Unfortunately, all his efforts had been in vain.

“Did you, now?” Thomas said. Two others stepped out of the hallway behind him, both large men who carried the air of confidence that many an Ember possessed. Lyle recognized them—they’d practically threatened him two days ago, and Thomas had laughed in his face when he’d brought it up. Apparently Thomas had put them up to it. “See, my friends and I didn’t get to say goodbye, and that’s a real shame. Why don’t you come get a drink with us?”

Anxiety rose up inside Lyle at the sight of the other two men, and he forced himself not to retreat a step. He was outnumbered now, but he didn’t want to give any signs that he was intimidated, so he just replied simply and honestly. “I would rather gouge my eyes out with a wooden spoon.”

Thomas sighed. “See, that’s just rude. Here we could have been such good—” Thomas’ companions both darted forwards, grabbing onto Lyle before he could react despite his newfound speed. “—friends.”

Fear and adrenaline suddenly surged through Lyle’s veins. He hadn’t thought they would assault him! He struggled, yanking his arms inward and rocking the two men from side to side. They were all seasoned Embers—even Thomas—and stronger than him. Their numbers advantage helped, too, but fighting even one of them would probably have been suicidal.

He quickly realized it was futile and stopped struggling. He would have an opportunity to escape—he hoped—but fighting all three of them wasn’t it. No, a direct confrontation was a losing proposition. He glanced over at the unfamiliar receptionist, who watched with wide eyes but didn’t move to help, or even call the police.

“Now, now,” Thomas said, taking up a position mere inches from Lyle’s face. Close enough to spit on. “Where were we? Oh, right! You were humoring—”

Lyle smirked as the man came within range and took the opportunity that Thomas had presented him with. He slammed his head forwards, smashing it into Thomas’ nose. Pain flared momentarily at the point of impact on his forehead, but Thomas got the worst of it. The man yelled in surprise and leapt backwards as the agony and blood burst from the center of his face. Droplets sprayed onto both their shirts, and globs ran over his mouth and chin, giving his already ruddy face a macabre pallor as his skin contrasted with his blood.

“You—you broke my nose!” Thomas shouted. “You piece of shit! I’m gonna—”

“Thomas, Thomas, let’s be civil with each other,” Lyle interrupted, his voice casual through his gritted teeth despite his predicament. “There’s only one way this plays out, and that’s your henchmen letting go of my arms and me walking out of here no worse for wear. Because if you do anything else, those security tapes are gonna get flagged, and you don’t have the authority to erase them. Everyone’ll see you attacking me in the lobby of a DOER office. You’ll go to jail for the rest of your life and then some. So,” Lyle said, smiling as best as he could while pushing down his fear, “choose wisely.”

Thomas spluttered. “You—you—just because your fucking brother—”

“What about my brother?” Lyle said when Thomas stopped speaking and just glared at him.

When Thomas continued to remain silent, opting to look over the hand holding his nose like a petulant child, Lyle glanced at each of the two men holding him and frowned harshly. They looked much less certain of themselves now.

Lyle continued, anger infusing his voice with confidence he didn’t really feel at this point. If they were willing to go this far, they might be willing to go farther, but he couldn’t leave the comment about his brother unchallenged. “Carson’s been dead for three years. What does your obsession with me have to do with my brother?”

Thomas glared balefully at Lyle, but the effect was dulled by his continued grip on his burst nose.

“Obsessio—fuck you. I don’t give a fuck about you. It’s just fair. I would have gone to New York if not for him!” he suddenly shouted, causing the receptionist to startle at the edge of Lyle’s vision.

Lyle’s eyes slowly widened in disbelief. “Really? Is that why you don’t like me? You should be grateful to him! If you’d gone, you’d be dead, along with everyone else that was there.” Lyle took a deep breath. “And, honestly, you’d be missed a lot less than Carson.”

“No!” Thomas said. “The city wouldn’t have fallen if I’d been there. I would’ve seen what was happening, and stopped the Break. I’m the best analyst DOER’s got, but they stuck me here just because of one—”

Lyle snorted, distracting Thomas from whatever he was saying. The man broke off.

“What?” Thomas snarled.

“You’re the best DOER’s got?” Lyle asked mockingly. “We’re doomed. I guess it was a good run while it lasted.”

Thomas was shaking with rage, his already ruddy complexion turning redder and redder.

“Now,” Lyle continued, his laughter subsiding. “Are you going to let me go, or are you going to jail?”

If Thomas didn’t let him go, Lyle was pretty certain that would be the outcome, but at the same time he didn’t particularly want to be assaulted. Despite being a decent analyst—that much, Lyle could admit—Thomas was a bully and a coward at heart. He had held the power before when Lyle depended on him for a paycheck and advancement, but no longer did Lyle rely on him. There was nothing that Thomas could do to him that wouldn’t result in far worse for Lyle’s old boss.

A vein twitched in Thomas’ temple as he considered Lyle’s words with narrowed eyes, likely weighing the risk that he would have to take for his satisfaction. One hand still held his nose, but the blood flow was slowing now. Finally, he broke eye contact and looked to the man on Lyle’s left.

“Let him go.”

Both men released Lyle at Thomas’ command.

“Good choice,” Lyle said, turning to walk away.

“I’m gonna remember this,” Thomas said.

“Good,” Lyle called over his shoulder, trying to maintain a casual demeanor as he stuck his hands in his pockets and tried to keep his pace casual. “Hopefully you learn something from it.”

As soon as he got a few steps down the street, away from the front of the DOER building, Lyle nearly collapsed as the adrenaline left him. He pushed his shoulder into the wall for support and lifted his hand to where his head had impacted Thomas’ face.

Lyle groaned, massaging his forehead, and wondered if there would be a bruise where he’d smashed Thomas’ nose. “That wasn’t fun.”

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