Spark of War (Progression Fantasy)

"Uh…" El started, not exactly sure how to respond to a nine-foot-tall skeleton offering tea. "Are there biscuits?" she settled on.

Brilliant save, El. Top notch.

"Unfortunately not," the skeleton replied, the disappointment clear in their voice. "The warehouse with flour in it spontaneously combusted recently, and let me tell you, that's been a real hindrance to baking class."

"… baking class?" El asked. "Why would a skeleton be baking?"

"A skeleton…?" the skeleton asked.

"It's a golem," Sol spoke up. "Wirockian, I believe. Am I correct?"

The skeleton-golem lifted a finger to point at Sol, indicating the man had guessed it in one. "Though, technically, I am a Vestish citizen now. What's left of Vestis, anyway."

"Okay, a golem, sure," El said. "Doesn't explain why you'd need a baking class. Do you even eat?"

"Oh, it's not for me," the golem replied.

"The wolves?" Dayne pointed at the three pups sitting attentively around the golem.

"Them? No, they don't eat either."

"I believe they are another kind of golem, unless I miss my guess," Sol said.

"Oh, you're on a roll," the skeleton said. "At least, sort of. I take care of the museum here, and I needed somebody to go foraging. Too dangerous for anybody else to leave the library with the Depths out there running around. A few modifications to some of the specimens we had here and… voila." The golem held up their hands, and each of the three wolves stood, did a little spin around on the spot, then sat back down.

The wolves are golems too… underneath the skin. That explains the scar.

"They have Sparks, though," El said.

"Part of my Spark," the skeleton-golem answered.

"I have so many questions," El said with a shake of her head. "Let's start with the important bits though. You said anybody else, and you had baking classes. You're not the only survivor?"

"No, though there aren't many of us left now."

"How many?"

"One-hundred-thirty-two," the skeleton said. "The last of the great Vestish academia, unless some managed to escape the city when the Depths came."

"You're quick to answer our questions," Dayne spoke up. "Aren't you worried about the information you're sharing?"

"You have a Spark," the golem said, pointing at Dayne. "While this one seems to be a follower of the Rime – rare as that is – based on the earlier chill. While you, young lady," the golem said to El, "are… frankly, I have no idea who or what you are. Still, none of you are members of the Depths, which means we're all on the same side – the side of looming extinction. So, back to my earlier question, tea?"

"Tea would be wonderful," Sol said before El could respond.

"Excellent, this way," the golem said, gesturing as they turned and ducked back through the door.

"Can we trust him? Her? It?" El asked quietly into the communication magic.

"If they work in the museum, and there are others from the Vestish Academy here, they should know a lot about the contents of this library," Sol said. "And they knew what to call the Depths. They have information we need. Trust is irrelevant."

"Fair," El agreed, following along with Dayne as Sol likewise headed through the door. "Hey," she said louder. "Do you have a name?"

"I do," the golem said. "Though everybody here calls me Bones, for obvious reasons."

Following Bones through the door, El quickly found herself in what she could best describe as a workshop. It had a similar feel to Felps's lab, though with more dissected animals in various stages of taxidermy than weapons of mass destruction. Honestly, between the two, it was tough to say which was more disturbing. Bones, for their part, continued past the pleasingly organized workstations to what looked like a casual area near the back.

"Thought you said there were others?" El asked as she looked around the room. While there was evidence of ongoing work – lots of it, in fact – there wasn't another soul in the room. Not counting the three small wolves that'd followed them inside, one of them snagging a rope connected to the doorknob between its teeth. An adorable tug-of-war later, the small wolf had closed the door silently behind.

Maybe Bones will let me keep one.

"We keep ourselves somewhat separate within the library," Bones explained, going to a large cabinet off to the side of the rest area. A couch, a pair of armchairs, along with a table and its chairs, along with a small kitchen made up most of the space tucked comfortably into the corner of the larger room. Obviously once meant as a place for the workers to take breaks during their shifts, the space had a much more permanent feel to it.

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Bones had been there for a while.

"In case one of you is found?" Dayne asked.

"Yes," Bones said, gesturing from Dayne to one of the armchairs.

Maybe El was imagining it, but despite Bones's stone-skull features, she could swear she saw a hint of compassion on the golem's face as Dayne carefully lowered himself down into the chair.

"While I have an idea where the others are, I don't know for sure," Bones continued while pulling teacups and a teapot out of the cabinet.

What is it with researchers and their tea?

"How do you know there are others here, if you don't know where they are?" Sol asked.

Bones pointed with a teacup to a series of what looked like three tubes running down one wall, from floor to ceiling. There seemed to be a small sliding door in two of the three, while the third had something like a funnel in front of it.

"Ah, I see," Sol said.

"Glad you do," El said flatly. "Care to fill me and Dayne in?"

"If you can explain, please do," Bones said. "Steeping tea properly is an art that deserves my full concentration."

"Do you even drink tea?" El asked, but didn't get an answer before Sol spoke up.

"Due to the size of the library, they use a pair of rather ingenious methods of communication between floors," Sol said. "The first is that tube on the right, there, the one with the funnel-shaped apparatus connected to it. If I remember correctly, there are some switches on the side of it that allow you to choose the destination, but speaking into it transfers your voice through the tubing using vibrations.

"The second uses the other two tubes beside it, though they don't carry sound. Instead, there are specially prepared capsules you can place small objects or messages inside. Dropping them into the tubes through the openings quickly transports them to a location selected through the manipulation of more switches."

"You know quite a bit about it," Bones said without looking up from their tea steeping.

"I spent some time in the library when I lived here before," Sol said.

Bones's head turned until they were looking right at Sol, the dancing flames within the eye sockets compressing until it looked like the golem was squinting at the man. "I have been working here for a nearly half a century, and have become quite familiar with the limited faces that visit. I would remember you."

"It was before your time, it seems," Sol said, clearly not intending to elaborate any further.

"So," El interrupted the tense silence that followed. "They use the tubes because they don't have anything like our communication magic?"

"Correct," Sol said.

"Not correct," Bones added almost immediately. "Well, not completely. Here you go, young lady," they added a second later, handing El a teacup. Two more quickly followed to Sol and Dayne, while Bones set a fourth in front of themself. The golem even went so far as to put three small bowls on the ground near their feet for the wolves to come over and join.

"There's another reason for the tubes?" Sol asked.

"Ah, no. That part is correct," Bones said, taking a sip from the teacup. Where the tea actually went, El could only imagine, but maybe they weren't a complete skeleton under the long robe? "The incorrect part is the young lady's reference to 'your' communication magic. It was not originally Pycrin's magic, as I believe that is what she was referring to."

"What do you mean?" El asked. "We've always had it."

"Let me ask you this, then," Bones said. "What magic does your Spark provide? What magic is bestowed by your Ember?"

While part of that seemed like a trick question, El went ahead with her answer. "Well, our communication for one. And the ability to ignite things through our electrum foci, like our wings." She thumbed over her shoulder as she said it, even though her wings weren't out – and she didn't have electrum nubs there anymore. "Our wings mean we can fly, though not all of us I guess, just the strongest. Oh, and our flame armor."

"Interesting," Bones said. "Haven't you ever wondered why what you described sounds a lot like four distinct and different kinds of magic?"

El's brow furrowed while she took a sip of tea, the fragrant smell filling her nose. Huh. Bones has a point. When I think about it like that… they do seem different. They all come so naturally, like part of a package, I just assumed they were all our magic.

"You're saying those four things aren't Pycrin's magic?" Dayne asked.

"One of them is," Bones said. "What you call flame armor. That was the ability originally granted by Pycrin's Ember, and the one that allowed your ancestors to succeed so marvellously with military expansion. It made your soldiers exceptionally durable and strong – and still does to this day, I guess."

"I thought it was our wings?" El asked.

"Eventually. The advent of your wings – along with the mobility they provided your troops and the advantages in combat – were the next great leap forward your people took. They were what allowed you to cross the seas and oceans before the – What do you call them? Ah, yes, newts – before the newts could. This was probably the greatest turning point the world had seen in millennia, and heralded in one of the longest dark ages in recent history."

"Dark age?" Dayne asked. "The storm?"

"Oh, no no," Bones said. "The Storm pales in comparison to the damage Pycrin did by stealing Embers from around the world. Whole civilizations vanished in fire and blood during the wars to consolidate the Embers in one location. Those that did survive, like Vestis – or my home Wirock – for example, found themselves struggling without something they had long taken for granted.

"Take Vestis. Their magic provided ease of travel. Simple, and while it had some military applications, it was primarily used for mercantile or academic purposes. A large portion of the food consumed in Vestis was imported in, using this magic. When the magic vanished along with the Ember, the vast holes in supply lines became catastrophically obvious.

"I could get into the timelines of what came to be called the Food War, the following rebellions, and the effects all of this had on the nation, but there are several very accurate volumes on it within the library. I can point you in their direction if you're interested. All of that is to say, by the time the Storm rolled around, the nation of Vestis had already found solutions to many of these problems. While the snow was difficult, they were better prepared for it."

"The Storm wasn't so bad?" Sol asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

"Oh, no, it was terrible," Bones said. "Just not as terrible as what had come before. And, what turned out to be truly fascinating, was those who were 'frozen to death' in the cold and snow didn't actually die. When the snows melted a few months ago, people who'd been thought lost decades ago suddenly woke up.

"Which, in retrospect wasn't so fortunate as the Depths arrived shortly after. Now, look at me, I've gone completely off topic." Bones took another sip from their teacup. "Back to my point. Each nation's Ember only provided one specific effect. For Vestis, it was the magic they used to travel, causing a single step to cover vast distances. For my home nation, Wirock, the Ember allowed us to transfer all – or part – of our Sparks into other constructs.

"I'm not sure if you're aware of the Isles of Pili further to the east, but their Spark allowed them to power ingenious devices with a touch. And, of course, for Pycrin, it was your flame armor."

"Then how come we can fly? Or have the communication magic?" El asked.

"Simple," Bones said, taking another sip. "You stole them."