Approaching home
Did we do the right thing? Halari wondered, letting each step towards her house bring a new answer to that question. Despite Callan’s advice to not let it bug her for too long, she just couldn’t shake it. She figured the decision was justified, at least under Callan’s new laws which were still being written down. ‘Codified,’ he’d called it. Those protestors were actively stopping the smiths from working, and that definitely wasn’t ok.
If the metal stopped flowing, then they’d have less Cells to trade or parts for their homes. Even the hour or two the protestors had commanded probably clogged the forge for the day. Knowing all this, she understood why they needed to be locked up, but seeing her people in those cages…
“Callan’s right,” she whispered sullenly, shaking her head to clear it up as she passed from the street to her home’s gravel driveway. That question’ll eat me up. I’ll talk to him about it tonight.
The guard watching her house’s front door, a guy she knew from around, Rilot, she thought his name was, stopped her with a raised hand.
“Seriously?” she asked, glaring at him bemusedly.
“It’s, uh… just protocol, Lady Halari,” Rilot said. He blushed under her annoyance.
“I know, I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh, forcing herself to soften her tone. “Good job, Rilot, but I’ll be fine in my own house.”
The cadet beamed, clearly very proud of himself for doing a good soldier’s work, and moved back into position at full salute. Halari internally chastised herself for making him feel bad at first; she was still getting used to having words that had weight with others in this new order.
Moving past the cadet, Halari slipped inside quickly, hoping to get to Tel before her father returned from overseeing work in the mines.
But, judging by the muffled yelling coming from her brother’s room, Fedro came home early. Her mother wasn’t in the kitchen, which meant she was either out running errands or helping with the new Finance Sector get up and running.
Halari drifted over to her brother’s room and pressed her ear to the door.
“-done it anywhere else!” That was her father’s voice, and he sounded pissed. She heard an unintelligible reply get cut off by more yelling, then decided to interject before her father truly flew into a rage. He was a patient man, but when he got mad, it was like a Flame Cell detonating: infernal and eruptive.
She opened the door to yet another red-hot yell.
“You’re lucky the man who owns that forge is a good friend of mine!” Fedro shouted, pressing a finger into Tel’s chest. They were about the same height, but in this moment the older man he looked like a feral Cragbeast. Telero, brave and stubborn Telero, actually stared his father down unflinchingly. “But I’m still gonna have to work some magic to get this embarrassment off our family!
“I’m embarrassing?” Telero snarled, fists balled at his sides. “What’s embarrassing is watching my family now before that… thing! What’s embarrassing is everybody’s sudden love of heresy!”
“Get your head out of that book, son!” Fedro said. “And look around! The Quarry’s ten times better than it was just last month!”
“At the cost of everyone’s damned souls!” Telero shouted. “If I don’t stop him, everybody here is spending eternity in the Abyss!”
Fedro shook his head and glanced at Halari, pleading with everything but words.
“Tel, what were you thinking?” she asked. “You got your people arrested. They’re sitting in cages right now. How could you do that to them?”
“Leave this place, Halari,” Tel murmured. “I don’t even want to see you right now.”
His words stabbed her right in the gut, stoking a new anger along with the sad pain of his demand.
“You idiot!” she spat once she regained her composure. “I’m trying to help you! I’m the only reason you’re here instead of some dark hole like Callan’s laws say you should be. You organized a crime, Tel! You should be a lot worse off, but thanks to me you’re home! So answer the question!”
Telero glared at her, his bearing a mix of rage and disappointment, but he slumped, then slouched into his room’s only chair.
“I didn’t know…” he mumbled, all out of energy now, “how loyal the militia is to the fiend. I believed if they saw us all unified like that they’d help our cause.” He sighed and sunk further into the seat. “I thought they’d see the strength of the Visionary’s light and return to the good.”
“Of course they’re loyal,” Halari said, pained by her brother’s sadness. “Callan’s given them a real purpose in defending our home. Do you maybe see that now?”
“I see his hooks dig deep,” Telero said without a second’s delay. “I see I have even more work cut out for me than I thought.”
Did I really expect anything else? Halari sighed heavily. “Well maybe a few days in here’ll change your mind. I’m done trying to tell you he’s only here to help.”
“Like I said earlier, Hala…” Telero stared at the ground. “I don’t really even want to see you right now. Or you, pada.”
Fedro bristled at the disrespect, but Halari shook her head and gestured for them to leave; this conversation was clearly going nowhere. He followed her out and closed the door behind him.
“Never realized before now how stubborn of a child I raised,” Fedro said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Children, pada,” Halari chuckled tiredly. “All three of them are like that.”
“How did I ever survive?” Her father hugged her firmly, smelling of stone and oil from the mines. “You three’ll send me to an early grave.”
“Only after we’re done putting gray in your hair, huh?” She hugged her dad tightly, then pulled away and glanced at Telero’s door. She vaguely heard muttering and some loud thumps coming from within. “He seems unreachable lately. I just wish I knew what to say.”
“He’ll…” Fedro looked like he wanted to say, ‘come around,’ but changed his mind. “He’ll figure it out.”
“So how bad’s the damage?” Halari asked. “On the forge?”
“Delayed production,” Fedro huffed. “Enough to put quotas in a crunch.” He plopped down on to the den sofa like a sack of tams and groaned. “I know Cleome, though, the owner. I can fix it.”
“Good,” Halari said. “It’s definitely best when the forges are at full output. Those Cells really pay for themselves when we trade ‘em.”
“You’re doing good work,” Fedro yawned, eyelids dropping. Once he sat on that sofa it wasn’t ever long before he passed out. “I’m very proud of you.” After a few seconds of quiet, he started snoring lightly. Halari giggled, then kissed the man on his forehead and retreated to her own room.
A fantastic shower cleaned off the wasteland and smell of heated metal from her time with Callan practicing his abilities, and a short nap helped relax her from everything else. Feeling clear-headed, she at her desk and pulled out her magni-pad and stylus. It currently displayed a short list of ideas for shooting lessons with the captains, but she wiped that jotted down a new header: ‘Law ideas.’
She spent some time scribing thoughts regarding the currently imprisoned Quarrymen, and by the time the sky started to smear black across the horizon, she had one idea that she thought might actually work.
Halari redressed into something comfortable, then grabbed a couple canisters of ash buds from her home’s dry storage along with a couple of flavored syrups from the refrigerator unit. It was probably gonna be a long dinner with the ideas she wanted to run by him, so she grabbed a couple of canteens of salted tam milk as well.
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Callan stood waiting for her at the stair landing, small bag of tams in hand. He’d extended his podium for a makeshift table and acquired a couple chairs.
Suddenly, she felt strangely nervous as she got closer. It wasn’t by any means the first shared dinner between them, but they usually just sat on the steps or stood watching the town. This felt… formal, no, meaningful? It wasn’t even close to what courting traditions called for, but—
He doesn’t know what ours are! Halari realized, trying not to let the epiphany change her face. She knew he’d been observing their culture worked so he could better relate with the people, but this part wasn’t something she’d talked with him about. Was this an old ritual that he remembered? No, don’t think too much into it. Pay no attention to your fast-beating heart.
She stepped up to the table with a nervous smile that she prayed look more warm than anxious. It clearly didn’t take.
“You’ve got an odd look on your face,” Callan said, pulling out a chair for her before sitting in his own. “Everything go alright with Telero?”
Oh thank the Flames. She held a sigh then nodded and started placing the food on the table. “Good enough. He’s really mad at me, though. And somehow even more fanatical.”
“I really should read James’s book,” Callan said, twisting open the top of the ashbud canister and plucking a few plump ones from the top before handing it over. He left her the biggest that were always packed near the bottom like usual, which she appreciated. “I’d be interested to see what he’s written that has such a hold on your brother and his friends. Have you read it?”
“More was forced to listen,” Halari answered. She recalled the mornings spent trapped by Telero while she refurnished the trawler’s barren chassis. He’d always read it in such a grand way, much like the way he’d come to speak in the last year thanks to its influence. “Tel’s always been devout, but uh, you’ve really kicked him into top gear with his whole preacher bit.”
Callan grimaced awkwardly. “That’s mostly what I want to know. What does James write about me?”
“You’ve heard most of it already,” Halari said, straining to think of the correct passages as she chewed on a big chunk of flavored ashbud. “Just a bunch of different words saying the same thing: that you’d destroy the world. Try to remove free will and all that. I can get you a copy if you’d like.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Callan said, smiling warmly at her. “Although you might need to bring an extra if the first one catches on fire when I touch it.”
Halari laughed softly, then found herself scooting a bit closer to him, supposing that even if this was an old tradition on his part that it wasn’t so bad. She lightened up and allowed herself to fall into lighter conversation.
After the better part of an hour of pleasant talking, Halari found a good time to turn the conversation towards her ideas for the detainees, then immediately regretted it. Callan’s face fell for just a second, and she realized that she’d spoiled a perfectly good moment away from the workings of the day like he’d probably hoped for in her company.
“Them being in there really bothers you, hm?” Callan asked, sipping at his half-empty canister of salted tam juice. He sparked his lightning in his fingers and used it to heat the drink until it steamed in the chill air of the evening.
“I guess I just feel kinda responsible,” she said. “Tel got them there, so… I don’t know, I just want to help them somehow.”
Callan nodded next to her, dragon eyes searching for something in her face. If she wasn’t so accustomed to his unnatural gaze, his intensity would have made her shrink back. But she liked his eyes now, so all she did was meet his look with a steady one of her own.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked after a moment. “They have to rectify their errors somehow.”
“Or…” Halari said, tipping her canteen back to finish off its contents. “We can show them that you really aren’t what they think you are. Even a bit of mercy might break them out of that stupid book…” She told him the rest of her idea over the next few minutes, and he listened attentively, nodding along while she talked.
“We can go through with it,” Callan said. “On one condition. It has to be you, not me. Their thanks must go to you.”
“What, why?” Halari drew back an inch from where she’d unconsciously drifted closer to him while speaking. She blushed a bit realizing just how close she got.
“They have to thank you,” Callan repeated. “You said you feel responsible for their current condition, so take some actual responsibility for their freedom.”
“I don’t want that kind of attention,” Halari insisted, putting her hands up defensively. “It’s a bit too close to being… revered, I guess. And that’s all you.”
“They won’t follow me,” Callan said. She really wished he’d just yield this topic, but she saw the sense in what he said. “But they might follow you over your brother. Just give it a try.”
“Ughhh, fine,” Halari groaned. “But if they start praying or something. I’m running away to live in the city.”
Callan laughed and Halari joined him a moment later. She let him weave the conversation back into less official, far more enjoyable topics, and this time, she made a point to not disrupt the discussion again.
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We should rebuild this or something. Halari frowned at the stockade as it sat warming under the white glare of the mid-afternoon. It was such an ugly building; really more of an eye sore than the ruins of Atlanta were being inside the town itself. Its squat, trapezoidal face stared at her like a stupefied man.
“I still can’t believe your dad spent a night in there for a fight,” Callan said, a truly amused smile on his face.
“Never cheat my pada in cards,” Halari said. “The idiot that did got a nice black eye for the day.”
Callan chuckled. “Ready to go in?” He held an open hand toward the detainment center.
“After you,” Halari said, pushing him forward lightly. He always did that, attempting to let her go into places first before following. Maybe it was some kind of gesture or ritual like dinner two nights ago might have been? She tried to keep her mind off that particular uncertainty as they made their way inside the stockade.
The smell smacked her upside the head again as soon she crossed the threshold from community into something more restricted. It was stale, like an ashbud that sat out too long or was accidentally dropped in a bucket of water for a few too many days. A sour, damp scent that made her want to take a shower.
“Detainees, rise,” Callan commanded. The guards already stood at salute, but the prisoners rose slowly from their cots or floors. They looked pitiful, ragged and sad. She was happy to see they’d been bathed and fed well, but her heart hurt seeing them peer out to her from behind bars.
Callan, in his ‘I’m the King’ manner that she found both amusing and a little dramatic, even if mostly genuine, turned towards guards. “Free them.”
Murmurs of confusion and hope immediately broke out among the imprisoned Quarrymen, but the guards didn’t hesitate to grab the keys and move for the cages.
“Detainees, your sentence was three full nights and days,” Callan said as the guards set about to free the line. “However, Lady Halari gave me an impassioned argument as to why you should be shown some leniency.”
Here it comes. Halari flushed under the grateful eyes that instantly fell on her like heavy raindrops.
“Make no mistake,” Callan continued while the cage doors slid open and hopeful faces stepped into the free air, “another offense will put you right back here and no argument will fall on my ears. Lady Halari pointed out that due to the recency of my new laws, some leeway should be given, but this is your only second chance. Use it well. And show your gratitude. Telero got you into this mess, his sister got you out. Remember that.”
Each of the prisoners walked up to Halari and gushed their thanks out like starving children given food. Two of them even cried and knelt at her feet, which made her extremely uncomfortable. She considered running like she’d joked with Callan, but a reassuring nod from him set her feet with a little more strength.
The last man, Galiar, straight up hugged her. She froze for a second, then gently patted the man on his back. He released her and turned to Callan, then bowed deeply.
“G-Great Flame, thank you for your mercy,” he said face to the floor. “I see the truth now. I see how I was mislead. I am sorry, my-my lord.”
“Your gratitude is best shown as a father,” Callan said. “Rise and go home to your daughter, Galiar. And if ever she asks for somebody to look up to, you tell her of Lady Halari and her compassion for the people.”
Lay it on thicker, why don’t you? Halari flushed deeply, but didn’t contrast him. This was the plan, after all, even if it was a bit more emotional than she expected.
“I will, Blessed Flame,” Galiar said, standing and wiping his eyes. “Thank you, Lady Halari.” At a nod from Callan, he left the stockade. Halari watched him go until he jogged around a corner and disappeared from view.
“Did you have to be so dramatic?” she whispered, giving him a good-natured glare.
Callan shrugged with a sly grin, then patted her gently on the arm. Her skin buzzed a bit where his fingers touched. “Well done, Lady Halari. Your idea was perfect.”
“I know my people,” Halari said. “They love their work, their freedom, and their families. Taking them from that is agony. At the end of the day, they always just want to go home.”
“I understand that.” Callan's eyes went distant. She saw the reflection of his old city in them and grew sad. He still missed that place, she knew, even if he was really coming around to this new world. “It’s good that you’re connected to the people like this," he said, returning. "Despite your aversion to… reverence.” His sly grin morphed into a more mischievous one.
She slapped him on the shoulder lightly and rolled her eyes. “If they ever kneel at my feet again, just know I found a good spot in the ruins to live out the rest of my days. It’s got a really scenic view of the toxic pits and mantile nests.”
“Will I be allowed to visit?” Callan asked as they left the stockade.
“Only if you stop pushing your luck by putting me in the mine light,” Halari giggled. “I mean it, Callan, no more after this.”
“At this point,” Callan said. “It might be out of my hands.”