James blinked as he realized he'd finished his jesper meat. His eyes shifted once again to the whisp that sat on the side of his plate. Whisps were a sweet desert that James was overly fond of. They could be made into many different shapes and sizes, but Bron always made his to be around the size of James’s fist. As for the shape, they looked like a tall, pointy hat on a head that was far too small for it, causing the point at the top to flop down to the side. Bron was a master at making them and had recently began designing them, etching patterns into them the way kids did into the metal of the vessels. In texture, they were firm, but not so firm that they couldn’t be eaten or have a piece broken off from it. James lifted it to his mouth, taking a large bite from the side of it near the base. As soon as the firm substance made contact with his saliva, it melted into a sweet liquid that James swished around in his mouth and swallowed. Celeste eyed him with jealousy in her eyes. She always ate her whisp first, which meant dinner often ended with her staring at James as he ate his.

“James,” she said in a hushed voice. He turned to face her. Her expression was already in the state of pleading.

“No,” James said with an air of indifference. He took another large bite.

“James.” This time her voice was not hushed, but rather direct and sharp. He turned to her again. Her expression of hopefulness that he might share with her had shifted to an expression of warning. It was an expression he saw quite frequently. It said, if you don’t do what I say, then therewill be consequences. James shoved the rest of the whisp in his mouth, ignoring her silent warning. At first, it looked like she was going to get mad. Then, her face drooped, and she groaned, grabbing her stomach. “It’s never enough. I always want more.”

James chuckled to himself and nudged her with his elbow. She focused on him. With a mischievous grin, he pulled open his jacket and showed her the additional whisp that Bron had given him. Celeste’s face lit up in excitement.

“Give it!” she demanded.

“I’ll give you some,” James said. “But only when we get back to the room.” Celeste sighed, which James usually interpreted as her agreeing.

Just then, a flash of eyes assaulted the peripheral of his vision. Feeling a stab of panic, James shoved the whisp back in its place and closed his jacket. After a few nervous seconds, he scanned the room. Had someone seen? He swore that he had spotted someone looking at him, but when he scanned his surroundings, he was met with no curious glances. James breathed out in relief.

“Ready to head out?” he asked Celeste. She seemed to consider his question, looking first at him, then at the empty plate that sat in front of her, and finally at his breast pocket where the bulge of the whisp could be seen.

“Yup!” she declared, standing to her feet. James followed her lead, picking up both his plate and the one Celeste was about to leave behind. They walked over towards counter where Jarl still stood. Directly to the side of it was a small counter that contained a slit to the kitchen. James put the plates on the counter and slid them through to the other side. Jarl eyed them curiously.

“Leaving so soon?” he said in his voice that seemed to drag itself along the ground, stretching and elongating his words. Both James and Celeste gave him a nod, which seemed reply enough to him. “Very well. But keep an eye on the passing time. You don’t want to miss the Spark Ceremony.”

With that, the two turned to leave. They made their way through the door and shut it behind them. As soon as it clicked closed, James felt a shove from behind that sent him stumbling to the ground. He could feel the whisp in his breast pocket crush against his chest. He looked about in confusion and locked eyes with Celeste, who was bending down beside him. Her gaze was not directed at him, however, but instead at someone behind him. He twisted his head to see Zeke standing in the corridor. James seethed internally and by the look on Celeste’s face, she felt the same. Zeke was an unpleasant person to know, to say the least. He was at least four years older than James and three years older than Celeste. It seemed his sole purpose in life was to impact James’s negatively. Tailing him were two of his partners in crime, Mach and Fin. The faces never stayed the same. Zeke would always have different people with him, recruited from different vessels. They came and went, but if they were with him, James knew they were bad news.

“Fin tells me you’ve been getting the special treatment again,” Zeke said, taking a step closer.

“And? What’s it to you?” James said, hoisting himself to his feet.

“Unfair is what it is. Getting special treatment simply because your parents died. A reward for their mistakes,” Zeke clicked his tongue several times. “No, we can’t be having that. Hand it over.”

“Hand what over?” James asked, trying to sound confused, which was hard to do with his heart beating so hard. Zeke clicked his tongue several more times.

“Where did you say it was, Fin?” Zeke asked over his shoulder.

“Inside pocket of his jacket. Left side,” Fin said. Something about his smirk nauseated James.

“Mach, if you would be so kind,” Zeke said.

James could feel the level of enjoyment that Zeke got from saying those words. Rather than replying, Mach simply chuckled and cracked his neck. James couldn’t place his age, but he was fully aware of their difference in size. Mach stood about a half foot higher than James. He wasn’t muscular by any means, but James could tell that his extra arm length would see him as the victor in a fight. Mach walked forward, approaching James with a hungry look in his eyes. Whether he was hungry for violence or hungry for the whisp in his pocket, James didn’t know. Mach stopped an arm’s length away from James and looked him up and down. With an air of carelessness, he reached for James’s coat. James made no attempt to ward of his hand. This was not his first run in with Zeke and his goons, and his past experiences taught him that fighting back only led to bloody noses. Many bloody noses.

Mach’s hand reached his coat and began to lift it open. In the same moment, a blur swept passed James’s vision, and the sound of collision echoed through the corridor. It took James a few seconds to realize what had happened. Celeste stood next to him, her fist clenched in fury, and Mach stood a few steps to the side, clutching his jaw.

“Don’t touch my whisp!” Celeste hissed. James could do nothing but stare at her, dumbfounded and little prideful. His sister had punched Mach square in the face. If they made it out of here with the whisp, he wouldn’t just give her a piece; he would give her the whole thing.

Mach seemed much less impressed by her actions. He raised his fist attempting to strike Celeste with a powerful right-handed blow. James’s instinctively stepped in front of her. It seemed he needn’t have bothered, since Zeke caught Mach’s arm before it impacted anything. Zeke put a hand up to calm Mach’s anger. Mach ripped his arm from Zeke’s grasp and took a step back, muttering incomprehensibly to himself. Zeke then turned his gaze onto James and Celeste. Though his face remained calm and condescending, his eyes showed the truth of his emotions. He was excited. This didn’t surprise James. He’d had enough run ins with him to know that he enjoyed it better when his victims resisted. He found very little entertainment in picking on people who didn’t fight back, like winning a race when all the other opponents refused to participate. It was meaningless unless they fought.

“You get too many things from your mother. Your hair, your eyes, and even your stupidity. Do you plan to tumble off the ship like she did? A Vinci stumbling and falling beneath the clouds. Pathetic.” Mach and Fin laughed with hearty condescension. James could feel Celeste take a step forward, most likely to do to him what she did to Mach. He held her back. Zeke cast his gaze on James. “Ah, yes. That’s right. The stupidity ran through both your parents. Your mother’s clumsiness and your father’s foolishness in descending down the ladder after her. You need only look at their deaths to understand why the two of you ended up so hopeless.” He finished with a sneer that sent daggers of rage pulsing through James’s veins.

A door opened, and Zeke was abruptly pulled from the ground and pressed up against the wall. He hung off the ground by the collar of his jacket, which was gripped in Jarl’s hand. Mach and Fin looked at each other, nodded, and took off running down the corridor. Jarl payed them no mind.

“I don’t tend to interfere with bullying matters,” Jarl said in his calm, drawling voice. “It usually only ends up making it worse. But I draw the line at the mention of their parent’s deaths.” His voice was growing harder with each passing word. “I want to make sure you understand. This is not me coming to Jameson and Celeste’s aid. This is not me stopping an act of bullying. This is happening because you spoke of Liza and David’s deaths within my range of hearing. Are we clear?” Zeke nodded several times, grabbing his collar and hoisting himself up so that he could breath. Jarl put him down. “Good. Now run off before I decide to tell your mother of this.” Zeke shot once last seething glare at James and Celeste before taking off down the corridor. Jarl watched him leave, his back facing the two siblings.

“Th-thank you, Jarl” James said when the shock had finally worn off.

Jarl didn’t look at him. “Don’t thank me,” was all he said before returning to the dining room. James caught a glimpse of his expression as he walked in. Was it Pain? Remorse? Regret? Or perhaps a combination of all three. James couldn’t place it.

“Come on. Let’s go,” Celeste said with a sigh. She started to walk away. James quickly caught up with her.

“You were incredible!” James said. “You punched Mach! And not just a slap or anything, but a full-on closefisted punch!” He swung his hand out in front of him, imitating her. She blushed.

“It wasn’t that big of deal. What Jarl did was much crazier.” The words sounded like praise, but her tone was more concerned and suspicious. “Why do you think he interfered?” she asked after a few seconds of silence. James gave her a perplexed expression.

“To help us?” he said, as if it were obvious. Celeste pursed her lips.

“I don’t think so. I believe what he said. If Zeke hadn’t mentioned our parents, he wouldn’t have come out from the dining area.” Celeste put her finger up to her mouth in thought. “He feels like a shadow sometimes.”

“A shadow?” James questioned. Celeste nodded.

“He’s hard to read and always seems like he’s hiding something. Like a shadow,” Celeste said with a smile.

“Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad he intervened. We still have our whisp because of him.” James patted his chest pocket, which now contained a large amount of white powder.

“You mean because of me,” Celeste corrected him. James rolled his eyes at her and reached into his pocket, withdrawing all the white powder that he could. He placed it in her hands and watched her eyes light up. “All for me?” she asked. James nodded, and she shoved the entire handful into her mouth, causing her cheeks to puff out on both sides. “Thank you,” she said in muffled words. James waved his hand, dismissing her gratitude. They both walked on in the direction of their room.