While the nobles' birthrate was dictated by the palace, the commonfolk faced no such restrictions. Their birthrate was instead dictated by poverty, illness and the scarcity of resources. Inferior in every regard, the powerful nobles of Electrum cared nothing for the affairs of the commonfolk, and condescended to allow their self-government among the barren landscapes of the Empire. Should they deign to encroach on noble land, the nobles would simply beat them or burn them with no repercussions. The races were separate and by no means equal. As Count Ironac had said while noting the ants in his garden; 'Why should I concern myself with the business of an inferior species? Let them live in the dirt. I only need crush them under my foot should they dare to come closer to my home.' That's not to say that every noble thought as the Count did. There were rumors the Northern Faction even allowed commonfolk servants in their homes, but it was difficult to say if it was truth or merely propaganda that served to shock the citizens of Electrum.

From the creation of the universe, the nobles and commonfolk had been predetermined. There wasn't a being in the capital that hadn't learned of their history. Thousands of years before time began, the heavens had fallen in love with the earth and swelled with the gift of twin sons; Lunis, the moon, and Solaris the sun. After nine months, Lunis was born into the universe. He cast but a faint light among the heavens, and from his beams the first of the commonfolk stepped out onto the earth, stumbling weakly in the dirt, and building their homes of wood and mud by the dim light of the moon. The heavens looked down upon their descendants with shame. Unwilling to accept the failed attempt of their firstborn, they imbued the unborn second twin with the infinite power of the stars. In the tenth month the dazzling Solaris was born, his powerful rays illuminating the earth as the bright and brilliant nobles lit the world with their sparks, and the commonfolk bowed to their light. As brothers they looked similar, walking on two legs they could speak, bleed, and age. But only within the eyes of the nobles burned the power of the sun, heaven's favored children.

One eternal truth had maintained the division of the races; only two noble parents could create a noble child. If either parent were a member of the commonfolk, the child would gestate for only nine months, and would not possess the spark of a noble. In the early days of the Empire it was learned, that if the mother was noble and the father commonfolk, she would even lose her own spark whilst giving birth to the commonfolk child. There were those that did not want to believe this inherent rule, and noble and commonfolk women alike had died while trying to extend their pregnancies to the ten month gestation of a noble. That a half-breed might exist was almost impossible to believe, and yet twelve years ago, Ironac was sure he had seen a spark in that child's eye. With nothing left to lose, he planned to confirm his suspicions.

The Count called Jerel to his study, "We are going to the Cinder Vale", he told him plainly. Jerel simply nodded his head and kept his eyes turned to the ground. It had been over a decade since he'd made a fool of himself in the Cinder Vale. He thought never to return there, leaving the fragments of his broken heart behind him in the dust. His master had given the order to go back, there was no possibility of refusal. Those painful traces of the past would be revisited. Ironac smiled at his servant's discomfort, "No time to rekindle old flames" he laughed, "we just need the boy." Jerel knew their destination was The Skin & Chalice. As he packed for the journey in his master's room, he caught sight of his face in the looking glass. Jerel had been disfigured since he was a child, a large scar ran across his face, and the passage of twelve years had deepened the lines and wrinkles on his skin. The valet felt shame and sadness, that this was the face he'd have to show.

It was rare that a noble would set foot in the barren wastelands where the commonfolk lived. Nobles lived predominantly in the capital, with others in the smaller cities to the west and south, where resources were mined under order of the Tsar. A great royal road had begun construction some twenty years ago but had never been completed; the passing nobles were forced to travel through the Cinder Vale using commonfolk roads, but since the start of the war few travelers had made that journey. Stelion to the west and Abunrom to the south had sent men to fight and closed their gates for all but the Empire's traders. The threat of the Northern Faction kept their diminished numbers contained, but the Tsar would not heed the cities' calls for expansion, and their birthrates were in decline. If not for the precious metals they shipped, they would have felt themselves abandoned. Above all else, the Tsar's efforts remained concentrated on preserving the glory of the capital.

Jerel had served Count Ironac since his rise to power at the start of the war. In the two decades that followed he was largely confined to the Electrum City to serve his master. During his service he had traveled twice by sea to the mansion in the Biathian Highlands, and twelve years since, to his hometown of Stelion, for which they had crossed the Cinder Vale on horseback. To reach the city they had ridden from dawn until dusk, through the towns and villages that dotted the dusty plains of the vale. Jerel had been twenty, and it was his first time becoming curious about the commonfolk they passed; he wanted to look closer but they rode at too high a speed. In Stelion, Count Ironac settled a minor financial dispute with Count Tac on behalf of the Tsar. Jerel was left outside where the scar on his face would not upset the Stelion nobles. As his master enjoyed the entertainments of the west, Jerel laid down and looked up at the moon, casting sparks into the sky to dispel the boredom.

The next evening his master had a young lady he needed to avoid, and it was decided to cut their trip short and ride home through the night. At first a light rain fell, but soon storm clouds came overhead, and violent winds were hindering their progress. A huge flash of lightning threatened to tear the sky in two. "Towards the storm, Jerel! I know a place we can shelter!" shouted the Count above the deafening thunder. He laughed as he rode towards the flashes of light, across the vale to the Skin & Chalice. After stabling the horses beside a stall of worried sheep, Jerel was sent ahead to the large, dark inn. No candlelight shone from the windows, but he could just make out a faint glow of embers coming from inside. His fingers trembled as he knocked upon the door. As Jerel waited, his knocks became banging as the freezing rain soaked him through.

At last the door creaked open, and the innkeeper held aloft a light to the visitor's face, the candle sputtered and spat as raindrops were pelted inside by the fierce wind. As soon as he caught sight of the flickering sparks in Jerel's eyes, he bowed deeply in greeting, backing into the room to allow the guest to enter. "I require two rooms," the noble told the innkeeper, "one for myself and the other for my master." Jerel looked around the spacious but under-furnished parlor by the light of the candle. "Prepare a room and bath for my master, I will wait until he is served." Jerel walked to the dying fire, threw a log upon it and drew forth his spark to bring the flames to life. The innkeeper bowed and went to the foot of the stairs, "Adalina!" he called, "We have a guest to tend to, light the fire in the largest room and ready the hot water!" 

As Jerel prepared to report the situation to his master waiting impatiently in the cold stable, a door on the upstairs landing opened and a small glow of light began descending down the staircase. Jerel's eyes glowed brighter, drawn to a beautiful young woman, whose delicate features and golden hair were gently lit from the candle she held. This commonfolk daughter would put the prettiest nobles to shame, and as she ran to the back of the inn to prepare his master's room, Jerel was compelled to follow her and offer his assistance.

The Count had grown impatient, surely Jerel should have arranged their lodging by now, installing his master in the best room, and rescuing him from this dirty, animal-infested shed. As Ironac raised his cloak over his head and ran to the door of the inn, he came upon the old innkeeper fetching water from the well outside. "You're still here, innkeeper!" cried the Count in great spirits, shouting above the sound of the pouring rain. The middle-aged man recoiled at the sound of that voice, and dared not meet the maniacal smile or his burning eyes. Ironac laughed and continued his greeting, "She's not still here too...? Is she? Is she?" The Count's demonic grin widened as he raced inside and shook off the water from his body. "Jerel!" he shouted, "Where the fuck are you?!"

Jerel had just lit the fire that the pretty young woman had laid in the largest of the guest rooms. When the young lady flinched at his master's call, he felt the urge to protect her, "Don't worry," he reassured, "it's just my master, there's nothing to be afraid of." Jerel smiled, then worried his scar would frighten her, his hand unconsciously covered his face. "Thank you," she said, and smiled gently back at him. Jerel found it hard to look away, but as his master called for him once again, he bowed and ran to greet him in the lobby. "Master, the room is almost prepared. Forgive the delay." Count Ironac wagged a finger at his servant, "It's not like you to disappear... what were you up to?" Jerel's face flushed red and he cast his eyes to the floor, as he mustered the courage to explain himself. "I was helping the innkeeper's daughter to prepare the room" he confessed. "The innkeeper's daughter, hey?" jeered the Count, "She must be terribly pretty that you'd forget your duties to your master..."

The young woman in question walked into the room with a towering stack of bedding in her arms. "Let me" said Jerel, as he unburdened the woman of her load. When she caught sight of the gentleman standing with the young servant, her brown eyes seemed to widen in shock. Ironac threw her an inquisitive smile, "The innkeeper's daughter..?" he asked, as he held back his laughter. Jerel turned to the young woman, "Where should I take these, Miss?" he asked. Adalina came to her senses and led Jerel to the kitchen, leaving Ironac alone by the fire. As he stretched his arms out to warm them, the innkeeper came in from outside with the pails of water he'd drawn. "I don't remember you having a daughter, innkeeper" said the Count, with his back to the man. "Not my daughter, sir" came the simple reply. Ironac smirked before his face turned fierce; stoking the flames in the fireplace with his wicked spark.

In the kitchen, Jerel placed the bedding into the laundry basket and watched as Adalina heated the water for his master's bath. "You needn't be afraid of my master and I" he told her, "I know nobles may seem scary, but I promise we won't hurt you. I've never even met the commonfolk before... your eyes..." he said. Jerel looked into the brown shining eyes of the young woman, devoid of the telling, noble spark that raged in his own. "They're so peaceful" he said. Adalina stared back at him, marveling at the sparklight reflecting back at her. As the raindrops on his hair dripped down, Jerel closed his eyes, breaking the spell between them. Adalina handed him a clean towel to dry himself, and prayed that come the morning, these nobles would be gone.

Ironac and his servant stayed for three days in the inn. The events which transpired there became a wound which ached more than the scar on Jerel's face.