The Tsar had been in excellent spirits. Since the death of Count Mercurac, the Northern Faction had been scrambling and the fighting had ceased. It was only a matter of time before his majesty could welcome the return of his favorite nobles from the frontline, and he had been constructing a lavish new ballroom in honor of the occasion. While the craftsmen worked the Tsar would supervise and scold, he wondered if this was how General Tsea felt when he was inspecting the troops. Wirac interrupted the Tsar's criticism of the new mural of Solaris with a most unwelcome message. "What do you mean Lord Rhenac has returned to the Northern Faction? I thought he was disowned by that bastard Mercurac! What does this mean? What of my party?!"

General Tsea made a quick entrance to placate the angry monarch, "Your majesty, this could be good news!" he suggested, "Lord Rhenac has always advocated for peace. His grandfather had sent him to the Romdel Islands because their opinions differed so greatly. If his Lordship becomes the leader of the Northern Faction it would be a great boon for us!" The Tsar paced back and forth in the great ballroom. Stopping in the center of the large space, he pointed an accusatory finger at the General, "Why was he not intercepted? So what if he talked of peace, does that mean he'll cede Silverwood to us and ignore the rest of the faction? There's no telling how he'll act with an army at his command and General Alac whispering in his ear! He should have been taken care of before he got as far north as Abunrom! If things fall apart now I will hold you accountable, Tsea! Wirac, has Ironac returned yet from Biathia?" The Tsar's servant cautiously stepped forward, "I believe he is yet to depart for the journey your highness..." he said with a meek bow. "Delay the Prince's return until the envoy has made contact with Lord Rhenac" ordered the Tsar, before turning to address the craftsman still working at the far side of the room, "And you all!" he shouted, "Be thankful for the added time you have to correct your mistakes! I wanted suns painted above these windows!" Wirac and the General hurried off to tend to business, it was clear that the Tsar had no more attention left to give them.

Not far from the Palace, two men were standing in Count Ironac's winter garden. "Have you ever brought forth your spark... Seren?" asked Jerel. "Only once" confessed the boy, "...on the day it killed my father. I didn't know before then what I was capable of." Jerel extinguished the spark in his hand. For most noble children, they were born with a gentle energy that increased in strength after puberty. At nearly nineteen, Seren should have known of his gifts long before. Even if he was different from the other nobles, his first spark should not have had the power to kill. "Seren, I want you to think very carefully. Was there any time in your childhood where you felt... a crackling of energy in your body, or where you touched someone and made them jump? Even if you saw a little spark in the air that you didn't understand... is there a time like that you can remember?"

Seren tried to think back, the majority of his memories were of his commonfolk life. Aside from the eyepatch he was made to wear, he lived as his peers and parents had done. Except. "There is something" he told Jerel, "but it can't be that." Seren was planning to dismiss it, but Jerel urged him to continue. "Anything could help, Seren" he told him, "it might seem ridiculous to the commonfolk, but remember; you are also a noble." Despite his hesitation, Seren decided to share his story, at least he was able to talk about himself and not the Prince he was pretending to be. "When I was very little" he began, "my mother used to take me outside when there was a storm... she'd tell me to point into the sky and see if I could make the lightning appear. But it was just a game you play with children, to make them feel like they're powerful..." Jerel thought back to the stormy night when he first met Adalina. Before they arrived at the inn, the sky above it had been lit with lightning bolts. Was it really the work of that six year old boy...?

Seren could sense that Jerel was taking him too seriously. "It was just the storm, really. I'd try again the following day, and nothing would happen. I remember my father shaking his head at me as I stood outside pointing at the sky." Jerel resisted the urge to ask more about Seren's parents, particularly, his mother. If Seren really released such torrents of energy, it was no surprise that he would suffer long bouts of fatigue. But how was it that a child could make lightning? At most, noble children would show off manipulating candle flames until their power grew stronger. Was Seren really in possession of so intense a spark? "Like I said," continued Seren, "it can't have been that... Can it?" The last rays of sunlight had disappeared, and Seren's noble eye was glowing brightly in the darkness. "There's something we can try... but I need to take a trip to the merchant first. Don't do anything until then, just learn what you can from Nurse Lida." said Jerel. As he prepared to leave for Mr Ruth's Emporium, Seren stopped him. "Can you tell me," he asked, "how did the Count know to look for me...?" 

"We saw you once" said Jerel, "when you were very young. And now..." Jerel curbed his painful memories of the inn, "Go and eat something, you'll need your strength tomorrow, your highness..." he bowed and left Seren alone with the plants. Before long, Lida found him and called 'the Prince' for supper. Count Ironac had been absent from their meals, but today he came to share the news. "The Tsar has given us a respite. Since there's movement in the Northern Faction, the Prince's return has been put on hold. Increase his highness's lessons and try not to embarass yourself with your ineptitude." After giving the command to Lida, the Count returned to his study and decanted another bottle of wine. "You're doing an excellent job" Seren told the Nurse as her lip started to quiver, "Don't mind what Ironac tells you." Lida sniffed, "Your highness shouldn't call him by his name like that, only the Tsar would be permitted such an informal address" she informed him, "Your highness should use noble titles when addressing someone beyond the class of servant." Seren ate a mushroom from his plate and nodded his understanding. "Thank you for correcting me, Nurse Lida, I almost forgot my manners. Don't mind what Cunt Ironac tells you." Lida suppressed an involuntary laugh, in spite of the tears that had welled in her eyes.

The following evening, Seren was called again to the winter garden. Jerel had been working in his room with the materials he bought from Mr Ruth, and was now ready to test out the contraption he'd made. Looking around to make sure they were alone, Jerel once again dropped the pretense that the boy before him was the young Prince. "Seren" he said, "give me your dominant hand." Seren extended his right hand, and Jerel turned it over so the palm was facing the sky. On it he placed a small round metal disc, coiled with wires. "I charged it myself" he told him, as he wrapped the wires around his hand and to the ends of his fingertips. "You'll need to channel your energy into this hand only for it to have a chance of working..." When he was done he asked Seren to clench his fist and test the movement of his hand. "What is this thing?" Seren asked. "Something that could help turn your lightning into sparks" answererd Jerel, "Try it."

Seren looked at his hand and then at Jerel... "How..?" he asked him. How was Jerel to explain something that should be as natural as breathing? Seren's spark had been suppressed or dormant throughout his life, he hadn't learned to harness it as he should have. "What happened... that night with your father?" asked Jerel. Seren had been trying not to think about the past that led him here, worried that the guilt would overwhelm him. "It was an accident, Seren" Jerel prompted, "But if you can recall the feeling you had at that time... it might help you remember how to conjure your spark" The feeling?  It was the feeling that his mother was going to die if he didn't do something to stop his father. Seren closed his eyes and pictured that scene that had scared him to action. His skin started to tingle, and he felt a surge throughout his body that wanted to find release. "Your right hand, Seren! Send that feeling into your right hand and hold it." Seren opened his eyes, his noble eye glowing brightly and reflecting off the metal wrapped around his fingers. 

Jerel stepped aside and Seren stretched his arm into the open space, he could feel the vibrations increasing, the energy was starting to crackle. "Take a deep breath and let it out, Seren." From his hand, a stream of sparkling blue energy flew into the air, it shimmered in place before dissipating. Seren smiled at his success but Jerel looked concerned, "I'll need to make some adjustments..." he said. Even with the limitations of the metal device, Seren was still producing power beyond his expectation. Jerel was strong, and when he tried the device on himself, even at full power he could only create a tiny burst of energy. There was really more inside Seren than he could have guessed by the disparity of his eyes. He really felt this boy could make lightning appear.

"How do you feel?" Jerel asked, "Do you think you could do it again? Or would you need time to recharge?" Seren felt the tingle in his arm again, "I think I could do it again" he told him, "I can still feel the energy inside my body." Several times over, Jerel had Seren release his spark into the air until nothing was left, and Jerel was satisfied with the experiment. "Next time, you'll have to learn to keep that feeling inside and not let it out carelessly. To be a noble means to be in control of your spark, and not be controlled by it" said Jerel, as he unwrapped the coils from Seren's fingers, "We'll work more on your resistance once you've recovered from the fatigue. Let me know when you're ready, and in the meantime I'll turn down the output. I'll find you a pair of gloves too, so you can wear the device freely."

"No need" said Seren, "just bring me some fabric and sewing supplies, I'll make a pair myself." Jerel was surprised but agreed to Seren's request. He wondered if Adalina had taught him how to sew in the Cinder Vale, and if it was time to send someone to check on her recovery. There was no way for Doctor Flax to send word to the Electrum City; messengers from the commonfolk wouldn't even make it to the gate without being turned away. Seren was the closest there had ever been to allowing commonfolk into the capital. If Adalina was to see her son again, Jerel would have to find an opportunity for him to leave the palace in the future. In the days that followed, Seren would spend his mornings and afternoons taking lessons with Lida, learning about the Prince's 'life' before and after he arrived in Biathia. His evenings were spent in the winter garden with Jerel as he learned to use the device. 

On the fifth day, Count Ironac gave them the news to ready themselves. While the Count and Jerel were to publicly board the ship to Biathia, the others were to be stowed away in disguise. Before they left Seren donned his gloves, embroidered with biathia lilies, and was ushered in to the Count's study to demonstrate his spark. Ironac nodded his approval, "Steen is off the hook this time" he told Jerel, much to Seren's confusion. "Take the Prince and his servants to board the ship" ordered Ironac, "Don't let a soul see them in the city. We leave for Biathia tonight."