The light of the fire burned at her retinas just as fiercely as it burned the small logs giving it life. Her eyelids ached to close, but she kept them stubbornly open, her gaze searching through the flames as if it could provide the answer to the question.

The stars above, Tiberious al Sola had told her, were physically made of the same material as fire, like a dress made of the same fabric as a shirt. He was long since dead, taken out by the same illness that had taken out her aunt nearly four years ago.

So may she had lost. Her mother, her aunt, her tutor, her cousins, her brother, and that wasn't even the half of it. So many had died, and so many more would die, if she didn't prove capable enough to stop Ahmet with the aid of the other trainees seated around the fire.

Garnet blinked and turned her head away from the glaring heat. The other trainees started up a conversation, but the words didn't fully register. Her gaze landed on the ocean a couple dozen meters away.

The waves that washed against the shore were both opposite and alike to the flickering flames. She matched the rhythm of her breathing to their regular irregularity and the effect immediately calmed her.

The memory sprang to mind of a time she'd been to the beach before. She had been six years old then, six months after Diamond had first told her why she should be perfect. She hadn't yet managed the art of aiming for perfection just yet, and the glistening beauty of the waves in conjunction with the allure of being able to splash around served as the ultimate temptation. Diamond had stopped her before she could enter the water, and no matter how many times Garnet had begged and pleaded to be allowed to swim, her sister had not budged.

"I shall return shortly," she said, rising and interrupting whatever one of the girls had been about to say. She almost expected them to make odd remarks or stare at her contemptuously, but most nodded, some with understanding looks. Somehow this was more infuriating than if they had treated her with contempt, but the spark of anger would not catch inside her.

She wandered along the coast of the shore, her path slowly bringing her to the place where waves kissed sand and slithered away. The pattern repeated before her once, twice, and a third time, all the way her mind flashed through images of her big sister reprimanding her for wanting to play. The water rapidly approached.

"I just want to swim around for a little bit. I'll clean off when we get back to the house, I promise."

The water froze an inch away from touching her bare toes. It sleekly slid away back to the ocean it had come from. Back to its family. Garnet had no family.

"That doesn't matter. You can't go in the water, and that's that."

The water timidly crept toward her, but it stopped even farther away than it had before. Garnet closed her eyes.

"But why not? I promise I'll be good. Please Diamond, please; why can't I go in the water?"

Her eyes flew open, and her eyes stared straight across at the horizon. She could almost see the faint outline of Diamond standing in front of her, demanding Garnet remember everything she'd once lived for.

"Because you're going to be perfect, and if you're perfect, you can't go in the water. That's not what a perfect person would do, Garnet. That's not a perfect way of life, and a perfect life is the only life worth living."

Garnet shook her head, and the illusion of Diamond disappeared. All that was left was the water, reaching out for her once more.

"If the only good life is a life that doesn't let you play, then what's the point of anything?"

She held her arms out. The sea breeze ruffled her hair and tousled it out of place, but her hands didn't move to fix it.

"You'll never be perfect with that attitude."

Garnet stepped forward and crossed the near invisible boundary between dry sand and wet. Her toes and left imprints on the dark sand. Her ankles reached the water, but she didn't stop until she reached the breaking point. A couple meters away, a wave crested.

"I'll never be perfect, Diamond," Garnet whispered. "I never was, and I never will be."

She closed her eyes and let the water wash over her.