Emberflame's Arc

Chapter 6 of 11

Morning broke quiet, but the quiet had weight. Emberflame unbolted the lab door and stepped inside. The sealed room was safe now — no crew hands but theirs could touch the bench. That was the win. But the shelf where raw fiber stacks usually waited was thin. The chief's lockdown had cut more than crew access. It had cut the runners who hauled in fresh stock. Emberflame counted what was left and felt the math go tight. The formula was protected. The supply that fed it was not. Emberflame traced the intake line behind the bench and found the proof. The feeder cable had been pulled at the seal, copper ends frayed, dust already settling on the bright wires. No power, no pull, no fresh fiber. Emberflame cut a length of finished weave from the back roll and bound the cable ends together, sealing the break with their own cloth. Then they walked to the chief and asked for one runner under their name alone — no crew, no contract change, just one hand to feed the bench. The chief agreed. The lab had a thread to the outside again, but it was a thread Emberflame held in their own fist now, and if it snapped, no one else would tie it back. By afternoon the runner came back with the first load. Emberflame cleared the bench to receive it. What landed was not raw fiber. It was a tall shard of jagged gem crystal, packed in straw, the only stock the outside markets would still sell under the lockdown name. The runner shrugged and left. Emberflame set the pillar upright and tapped its side. A bright shower of glittering fragments broke loose and scattered the bench. The supply line was open, but the goods had changed. The weave needed fiber. The market was sending stone. Emberflame pulled a fresh sheet of paper and started a new plan — work the crystal or starve the bench. At the gate a small green sentry had been posted, a turtle with a jet pack strapped tight to its shell, blue lights blinking slow. It was the chief's mark, a stamped reminder that nothing left or entered without a nod. Emberflame met its red eye through the slot and pushed the door shut. The lab was fed again, but on stone, not fiber. The lockdown held, the supply bent sideways, and the weave would have to learn a new partner before the next showing.